"- don't be so quick to knock it. People don't usually part with the weird shit they personally know because they know how easy it will be to punch holes in. Now I'm tellin you somethin. It's for you to poke through the soup and find the meat." John Patrick Shanley's 'the dreamer examines his pillow'

Monday, May 29, 2006

doing homework 8:22 May 29, weekend

I have this tendency to get hopeless, I realize that. Yes. And communication is next to impossible – real communication. NONE OF THIS PRETENDING, or worse, what withers me, is real emotion, stopping it, and then expressing it in a cliché way because that’s the only way you’ll be safe and understood. That’s the only way to stop yourself from really feeling something, is saying ok, I know this emotion, here I go expressing it, I know how to do this. I want to get caught off guard, or feel something familiar and let it be there, rather than putting every reaction in a box. Fuck that!

P.S – or whatever you say in the middle of something – M.S.? - I am reclaiming this space as my journal, you can read it if you want but it’s for me. I’m not writing on paper cause it takes too long, my ideas get stilted and I can’t read it later. I’m posting it ‘publicly’ cause maybe it’ll make you disagree or get pissed, and that would be probably the best thing that could happen. Do what you will with it. If you don’t read my stream-of-consciousness that’s cool. I’m not gonna try to tailor this to my audience.

What was I saying? Oh, communication.
Right, my revelation.
My roommate is in a relationship. Hallelujah. She deserves that more than anyone I know, and is one of the healthiest, most whole and beautiful and inspiring people I know. And she is now in a relationship with another incredible (god I hate words) woman who excites and intrigues and challenges me as well, although I hardly know her. GOD I’m so happy I’m depressed.
So there’s that. Communication. Right – my realization. Ok, so in-the-moment communication is nearly always impossible. We’re always putting up masks and moving to a place outside of ourselves in order to meet at a superficial place because we’re desperate to meet somewhere for God’s sake. Elizabeth, you idiot. Yeah, yeah it SUCKS ass. But what about the other – no another dimension – the INEXPLICABLE appreciation (I won’t call it love cause I hate that word – too many societally-prescribed expectations and qualifications) for another human being. I … ok, I love Catherine. Whatever that means. What I feel for her is unlike anything I feel for anyone else. I appreciate David. I feel something from him that make my.. what, my soul, my heart, my bones, my mind, something, respond and say, I know this is… well, I don’t know what they say, but there’s something in me longing to be connected to him, and to Ayaunna, and to Lenny, etc. etc. etc. etc. So what is that?

It’s ok. It’s ok that I don’t know. It’s ok that doesn’t mean I can ever communicate with these people the way I want to. It doesn’t mean the world is solved, it, like every other idea and plan, is NOT a golden ticket to life. But girl, it’s not hopeless. I guess it’s another thing that makes life worth living.