crows: (face)
Oh. Is the world back? I don't want it. Tell it to go away.

It's the same old, same old, same old story. Terminally restless. Yearning for intangible things. Every never singing and thirsty. Soon I will be on my knees, begging the weather to break.

Like the old script above the humming timepiece, a place where happy home has no meaning. I'm not really looking for happy, but I think I'm still trying to nail down home. I'm better than I was, then, when all those words were written. But this is still no place of shelter.

Who are we kidding? Shelter. As if.
crows: (Default)
So many inarticulate things about the space and nature that is home. I'd love to tell you about it, but I don't really know. Yesterday was very difficult, and very bruised, and very tired, and in that run-ragged way fatigue has of making you feel every imperfection, every pea beneath the mattress, I was much more aware than I sometimes wish I was about just how wrong the shape of things here is.

Today, however, I have energy for mischief, energy for pushing back and laughing in its face. And I plan to.

Let's get this party started.

And then.

Feb. 27th, 2012 08:27 pm
crows: (caw)
Today ended up being something of a mental health day. I worked, but I didn't go to class, and frankly didn't do much else that wasn't related to the kind of self-care that usually, to me, feels like trying to push all the sand of my consciousness back into a pile. I read a little tarot. I remembered how much better my life is when I'm keeping a god damn paper journal that nobody else is allowed to touch (oh, yeah! Number one tenant of life among the unseen! WRITE THAT SHIT DOWN YO!)

I'm stressing a little about Things that I should have used this time to do. And last night. And Saturday when I had a migraine. But really... I will be all right. I can fake through French tomorrow before class, and if I work on Nonfiction in my breaks between classes I'll be ready for Wednesday. For now, breathing, and words. Mostly I feel the way I do right at this moment because I haven't had enough sleep and a lot of things are terribly exciting right now.
crows: (black raven)
A solid day and a half with a short interval of sleep running around the Iowa/Minnesota back-country alongside the companionable wanderlust of [personal profile] auto_destruct. So much ground covered. So many photos. So much mad, wild Weird howling down the empty road on the edge of our tail lights. Holy shit, man.

So that happened. )

Consider this a statement of intent.
crows: (Default)
It's time. This is the year that there needs to be some kind of daily practice again. Like writing every day, magic gets better when you work at it. I'm well-footed on my own internal mountains again that this is a possibility.

I'm not entirely sure how to get the most out of this, though. Or what it's going to mean to me, now, probably a good ten years down the line from when it was last a really common part of my every day existence. There was a coven then, effectively. I don't think there will be, now, though already more of this is being shared or at least seen by external eyes.

This is a thing that needs to happen, however, in 2012. Especially if the world is going to be ending.
crows: (red)
Part of this is hoodoo and part of this is whinging.

This week, I'm tired of being a college student. Yes, I know I'm only in my fourth semester of this shit if you don't count my online courses last summer. But there's so much I want to do that doesn't particularly involve being in school. There stands to be a lot of travel this summer; in every instance something that will be a wonderful experience with people who mean a lot to me. Things I know I will regret not doing, if the opportunity arises and I do not take it. Things I need to make work. And it just... it just underscores how, if I weren't in school, I could be working full time, or looking for a job that paid better than I make (not that I don't love my job, I do), and still have loads more time than I do right now. Time where I wouldn't so keenly feel the things I'm putting off.

Part of this attitude is the weight of the sleep debt I've incurred over the last couple of weeks (a balance which I continue, largely, to default on, but is present nonetheless). I don't feel particularly excellent in my skin today; I need to reset some things. Hydrate. Detox. Eat a little bit cleaner, especially as we cruise into spring (mmm, renewal).

Really, I shouldn't be complaining. That thing which is at the root of my angst is actually a profound excess of creative energy, ideas, and cool fucking shit that's not even all that out of reach. Much of this I've already plunged into, much of this is stuff I'm doing and I would just like to be doing more of. There's so much writing. There's drawing happening again. And... music. I'm feeling easier in my voice the last few months than I have for a long time, and I'm beginning to feel comfortable handling my instruments again. It's been so many god damn years that I barely recognize what it feels like, but the reminder of why I surround myself with this kind of thing and why it's important to me is pretty refreshing. It's scary though, too. I've taken on a couple of things that are going to be a significant challenge to my sensibilities in the next couple of weeks, re: performing, and performing in ways that I'm not 100% comfortable with. Being on stage with the choir, or even as part of our 8 or 9 person ensemble doesn't really rattle my nerves (an improvement, over previous intervals of my life), but being up there by myself (which I will be), and being up there with an instrument (which I will be), these things... are going to give me an ulcer.

Sooo... yeah. Also, also! People in my life. Yes, you there, you who may read this and many of you who won't ever. Stop being so fucking fabulous, brilliant, clever, sexy, and interesting. Seriously, knock that shit off. My heart can't take it. Let me get bored enough to do my homework and get some fucking sleep at night.

(I kid.)

And then, there's the work. It is, as it has always been, small things fit in the in between, a color to my relationship with the night, very tiny rituals that aren't conducted in a language symbolically or otherwise that I expect anyone else to understand (though as it happens people do, from time to time). These things, I am remembering too, and open to more of. It's a reminder of how much of life is still this perpetual journey out of the fog, that I have to keep my eyes always forward because I could at a moment's notice turn around and become lost again. Which is not to say that I feel so close to peril, as I certainly have in former years. I'm steady on my feet these days. It's nice. I'm trying not to take that for granted because I daresay a majority of my life to this point has not been able to claim that among its virtues.

So, I continue to come out of things that have hampered me, or things that I have simply outgrown, perpetual nautilus building another temple, and another. Currently, there's a great deal of reconnecting and remembering going on, and I am wondering again, as I have occasionally in the last six months, whether there's a time approaching where I will be practicing with other people again. I wasn't sure I was ever going to pull away from feeling as private as I did about all of that business after I moved to Los Angeles. I really did think the door had closed forever, but now there are more people in my life than there have been for a long time that know some of those deeply secret things, and it wasn't a labor to confess them. In a lot of ways I'm back in a country of my own people, at long last.

Meditation

Dec. 15th, 2008 09:34 pm
crows: (Default)
But suddenly I knew, that you'd have to go, your world was not mine, your eyes told me so.

I'm back to being in love with phantoms, with the haze of mythos behind my own eyes and nothing that I will, in this world, likely ever be able to grasp. I remember what this was like, when I was young, and loneliness wasn't so profound because the heart wanted different things and hadn't had anything to feel as though it had lost. But then I fell in love, for a while, with people that were here and real and... we did that. For a few years, more than a few really. I guess it has been a while.

But here I am. I'm back again; I wonder if Dragoneyes is laughing at me, somewhere out in that shadow I see through one eye while the hard world fills the other. I think I feel like, now, those two worlds are much more separate than I did when I was a child. Or that my ability to exist in both of them is growing slowly less... No, not so much that, as ever more realization that the desire to share my life with another person cannot coexist peacefully with that dual nature that I've grown up with. I can only share one half my life... and while that's sustainable for varying periods depending on the other person in question, I'm not really sure how convinced I am that it will ever be 'forever'. That wholeness can be achieved between two people in such a state. At the root of this is the fact that I'm not really sure how much I believe, anymore, that I'll meet someone who shares the other side of it in the kind of harmony I need.

It's alright, right now. A week ago it wasn't. Some time before that it was. Some time after this it won't be again, and then it will be. I'm not really quite aware of the transitions in my attitude enough to say whether or not the peaks are growing, or the valleys, but at least I'm not in fear of being permanently stuck in despair on the matter. I'm trying less to determine exactly what I believe; the world exists around me in too much unpredictability for me to say in good conscience that this will or that will not occur... it's more a matter of being prepared, being at peace, if all those wordless wishes don't ever come to pass. Tonight, it's alright. I'll stay here as long as I can.

Alright, enough of that. I have to go sew a dress.

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