Jon used to bring in little weird pieces of the great outdoors and "put" them around the house. He put leaves on the kitchen light. He put a long piece of hay in a hole in the wall. He even attached a bumble bee, a large one, to one of the leaves. He used to cook weird concoctions in the kitchen. And then leave the nastiest dish mess. All over the counters.. food everywhere. And the dish rag ALWAYS squished in the corner of the bottom of the sink, covered in food and soaking wet.

He built perfect fires.

I want to be lost with my overalls.

Its my bird-day. I'm twenty-six. So disappointing. But nice for it to be my birthday. I'm at work. Nothing for me to do right now. My boss doesn't mind. The view is nice, at least. And twelve dollars an hour is nice. I just had lunch with my dearests. It was delightful. It was paid for. I am full now, and tired, and want to go home and change out of skirts and tights and high heels. Into overalls. Funny about my overalls... I can't find them. I think about them often. They were light blue with a green zipper. I had them in my Previous Life. They have come to signify all the comfort that has been lost. Lost like, I don't know where they are. What happened to them. I can't find them. I miss them. I am uncomfortable, now. Without my overalls. I can't slip into them and go do comfortable things. There is no garden of linten roses to lounge in, with them on. There is no kitchen table next to a window to look out, with them on. No fireplace to sit by, with them on. No husband to slide his hands behind the big open space in my overalls, to touch my back. Now, not even any warm summer air to bask in, with a tank top and flip flops, under my overalls. But that, and that only, of all these things, is temporary...

I am sorry if you readers of my blog get tired of my grief. I am tired of it. It will not, stubbornly refuses to, go away. I miss you all too, if it means anything to you. I miss myself! OH, so hard today on my birthday to still long with every fiber of my being to be lost and gone, dead, instead of alive, like my overalls.

Good Morning!

9 degrees outside! And God is so good. Tears in my eyes this morning just thinking about the option I have to have my soul near His. Its thrilling. Scary. Wonderful.

May I begin to live in such a way where my soul finds a well beaten path easier to take then a mountainous trek. And as Patrick finds comfort under the flap of my coat, may I take comfort, find sanctuary when I am near to the heart of God.

Lord! I wish I had a forerunner old school worship service to go to this morning! I would dance my heart out! (I tried dancing in my kitchen... just wasn't there.) Anyways...

Today I am going to hide. Probably tomorrow too...

shwewhhhhhhh. officially possibly the worst day of my life yesterday.

i feel: Guilt, terror, anger, a sadness that suffocates, disappointment, grief, confusion that blinds, weight, a desire to die, and a heavy blinding blackness. I have a close knowledge of "evil". Too close. I know more than i want to, more than i asked to know. i have spent much of my life scoffing at naivete, but now i value it, treasure it. I know why adults and parents worry and guard their children or any child's knowledge in this world. I am terrified to have children. Scared of what is out there for them to know, to experience. to be disappointed by. The disappointment is one of the worst things about it, about life.

Pain is so strange. It is itself an objective, physical thing. Like a nose ring. Or a rock. I wonder what I would have to do to make myself immune to it? I don't think that my personal life experience is any sort of standard to measure pain and disappointment by. It has, however awakened me to the possibilities. It is of those that I am afraid. For you, for my future children, for my family, for everyone. I do have hope of experiencing joy again, of living. But today I am going to hide. Probably tomorrow too.

When i think of survival today... i think about Patrick, my cat. And how this morning he sounded like he was dying outside my door, wanting to be let into my room. So I let him in, even though I was hurrying to work, and picked him up, which I knew he wanted b/c he was hanging from my sock with his teeth while i moved about. And after I picked him up he put one paw on one side of my neck, and the other paw curled around the other side of my neck. and then he put his little head down on my chest, just under my chin. And held still.
i think about beer. and how i like the taste of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. how it costs money, and so is an investment. and investment in life, in living. in living and working and tasting on purpose.
i think about my friends. (by friends i mean family too. one group, dammit.) and how they need me, and how i need them. how beautiful they are, how precious. what i want for them. how i want to live because they are living.
i think about music. how i know for a fact that i have music inside of me that people need to hear. that i have things to say, that are already known but need to be heard again. and again. like joseph's music. joseph's music brings us a strange peace. i think its the beauty of it.
anyways.

i always start my day...

dizzy from a cigarette, nauseous from the coffee, and hurting from the heels.

Befuddled. As usual.

Relationships are easy. Its dying to your Self thats hard. Yes, that is what I mean to say. I woke this morning lonely again. With the great Remembrance much to close to the cusp of my conscious self. So close I could see the glow of its big monster eyes spying me from the darkness of the cracked door. Shewf. Terrifying. Will it ever go away entirely, some year perhaps? I was also made presently aware of the War this morning. In a book, in a song, in video, in a conversation. Three times, maybe four. Just since waking this morning, with the terror and sadness haunting me, I have been made aware of the War, of the Greatness and glory and Story, four times. Why?

I do feel more peaceful just with that awareness. more hopeful. wonder why? what does the great war have to do with my sadness? Is it possible that my sadness could be swallowed? Engulfed in beauty, the beauty of a greater drama with a Redemption wilder than my half hearted imaginings? Perhaps if I lose myself... then this external objective "thing" that is my sadness will have no where to exist.. perhaps it will even die. starved of a soul to feed off of. Perhaps.

I don't know if it is wrong, in the true sense, to go off now, away from my computer, and look to fill the loneliness in me... but it cannot be any better to sit here, or in my room, or on the porch, and be washed by it, wave after wave. dunno, really. but, BUT! thank God, I'm hungry. something to do. incoming..text...just now.... my sister. "We've got pizza..." How did she know?