Thursday, December 6, 2012
This morning it was cold outside and I overburdened myself with too many things to carry. The most difficult thought I could entertain was how the hell I was going to open the door. As luck would have it, a man was standing near the entrance, so I asked him to help me out. He obliged, but he said he was only doing so because I looked like a nice young woman who voted for Romney. If I had voted for Obama, he beamed with confidence, there's no way he would have opened the door for me. That shit's funny, huh?
Once, when I was six, I got a new baby brother. As the earth would spin, this baby grew up. Tucked in there, between then and now, we had this one shining moment when we jumped hard on my bed in the cold room and sang Farmer in the Dell as loudly as two blonde Andersons could. We sang and jumped and jumped and sang until our feet and throats were bloody with so much love. The moment stayed in time. But, goddamn, how far away.
Once, I overheard my cousin getting beat in her bedroom for not sweeping the floor.
Another time, Monica told me in the gym that daddies pee inside mommies every night. I couldn't handle this, so I ran away crying.
Early, one morning, I watched my childhood home burn to the ground.
Each life composed of tiny, pin-head moments that craft something beautiful. And something awful.
Monday, December 3, 2012
"Woke up @ 3:00 am - took Seroquel to sleep, but still woke up. Finally went back to sleep @ 4am - didn't wake up until 6:00am./Did not have very good morning - messed up a recipe & it hurt her feelings./Throughout the morning she became agitated on and off./As the day went on she got a little better./Started her Paxil mid-day. Will start tomorrow for longevity @night time./Her spirits got better towards evening./ Morning sugar: 80 Evening Sugar: 116."
Boring, I know. But let me tell you - it's nice to tell someone everyday how one of the most important people in your life is doing, even if it is just a $2 notebook from Wal-Mart. Sometimes when I finish I feel devastated. Others, light. But altogether, better, you know? Writing can do that. Strike that - writing does that is what I meant to say.
I snatched a few moments from the universe this afternoon to tell you that my writing is the love of my life - I wish I had more time these days to be the suitor she deserves, but I don't. I do pine for the quiet tip taps of my keyboard and crafting a sentence with my own hands -- one day, I'll be married to words. Right now, I'll be content with the moments we get to make out in the sunshine.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Today, I woke up $800 poorer. Someone somewhere landed my identity and paid lots of money for make up and pajamas and shoes. If that bitch only knew what it was like in my identity, she'd apologize. She'd probably say, "oh, you poor, sad girl. Your grandma is broken? And you're deathly alone? And you feel panic everywhere? I'm sorry," she'd say. She might hug me and say that she's had a rough year, too.
But, it's just another thing in this world.