My Secret.

I have a secret, and I'm sorry for it. It has been affecting my life and physical and mental health over the last two years. It comes and goes, and sometimes it lingers. Tonight it happened again. It has been happening more and more again lately, as these sorts of things tend to do. It hurts, physically and emotionally. This is the most public I've been about it ever, and that's not saying much as nobody I know actually reads this blog of mine. My secret consumes me and I cannot control myself when it happens. When it is coming on, I cannot shut it off. When it is over, somehow, I feel better than I did before it happened, but I still feel lousy. When it is over.... It is never over.

What is over, however, is my Biology summer course. I don't think I worked wonders on my final exam that I took at 6:30PM this evening. It sucks because I have been doing A-Grade work since the course started and I loved my class and I loved my professor, P.C. I hope it turns out better than I am thinking, and I'll find out soon enough once my grade is posted.

My head aches, and I think I should shut the lights and attempt to sleep. I am responsibly contemplating, because I want to approach my next relationship in the best way possible. The man that I am fascinated with and kindly interested in is involved in a whole whirl of his own issues that are in limbo and must be resolved before we are to engage in anything together. "Its almost like I don't even doubt anything at all," he'd once told me. "It's like I'm not even worried about anything with you," he'd said, cradled in my arms, upon me, soaked, loving. I can only hope, I can only pray, that this is real. That when the time is right, he'll be the one knocking on my door, asking me to come home.

"We're already there," I'll say.

"We're already home. We always have been." I'll tell him.
And then I will take his hand and kiss him forever.

In The Arms of Sleep

Lincoln Center. A vastly beautiful evening. The souls of so many forgotten, flourish this night. A woman sits in peace, surrounded by blocks of red and turquoise, spiced chocolates, tiny shots of thick, muddy, black coffee. Cherubic in her nature, starlight in her hair. In consideration of every fortune, talent, and potential she is blessed with, still, she knows there is something massive and magnanimous missing in her life. The pain associated with the emptiness is seemingly perpetual. Empty shell, empty heart. Motivated, driven, and trying so hard to not be presumptuous about too much of anything at all. Generally speaking, that typically leads to a very broken outcome- tangled heart, tangled neurons. I wait patiently for the man, whoever he may be, to sort of just....fit into place whenever the time is right. For me, I feel that the time is always the right time, but the variable is the person-- Finding the right person, and knowing that he feels so surely of it about myself as well.Still...... I can't quite help but continue to wonder about my darling friend, that electric eel........

How Ghastly Aglow, The Ravenous, The Piteous

WITHIN EACH CREVICE BETWEEN THE IVORY HOOKS and knobs which connect the bones, there exists space by which, if we carefully investigate, may actually serve to teach us something we may never have had the courage or knowledge to have learned before. How important it is to look in the most in-obvious of places, of those which had at some point appeared to already have been occupied. These illusions pay homage to all that we are actually already capable of- They awaken us. With one arm already disembarking, like a sail-ship from its foamy, salted shore: half-torn, half-life, ripping at the skin organ and unraveling at the seams, and then in an idle, illuminated moment of revelation, we are reminded of the abundance of our often disregarded fortunes. The left arm persists, pushing violently against all odds, truculent in the heat of passion, fighting for all that still remains, and then pushing, and pushing harder, such as the inherent and racy thrusting in the very fierce heat of the Passion, glistening silver spiderwebs brilliant in existence, and then, raw skin upon wet skin, and wet skin upon raw.