…but it seems right.
Sometimes when I pick up my needles at night, I feel connected to other people who are doing the same. I go through these motions knowing that I am not alone– these motions are being echoed across the continent, across the world. You’re stitchin’ with me, babe.
I live on a hill. I may have mentioned this. If I wanted to walk to the store, it would take 45 minutes, at best, and it would be scary. Adjacent to me is a really big mountain, and it’s stellar, it’s why I picked this spot to live, it’s why I stay here. This mountain, however, runs away into the distance as far as I can see, and my family and dear friends are on the other side. I can be there in half an hour, but I have to conserve fuel. There are days that I feel so incredibly far away from them, and I mourn. The town that is close by is inhabited by zombies, or they all think I am a monster, because no one treats me like a human when I go places here. They all cock their heads and look at me like, “So, what are you?” Sometimes I am just a transparent being. The cashiers at the grocery store continue to flirt with the bag boys, and none of them say a word to me. They just take my money.
I am thankful that I have you, other souls who I can relate to. I’ve spent a lot of time tonight reading blogs, and they have made me laugh and feel like part of something. I am especially grateful for it tonight, as I am consumed with FREAKOUT over a friend of mine who is dying. (Cancer… and he’s just lost consciousness today.)
There was a time not too long ago when I was stuck on this hill without even the internet. My babies make me smile when they’re being cute, but when they’re screaming at me for stuff they can’t possibly have all day, it gets a bit tiring. It’s so great to be connecting with people again, even if not face-to-face.
I keep a LiveJournal which is a lot more intimate than this blog. It’s mostly protected posts, and I have about 9 people on my friend’s list. It’s not exactly public. But I do want to share more with you folks, and I will try.
I will start with 7 things about me.
::1:::> I roll my own cigarettes, but no more than 2 or 3 a day.
::2:::> When it comes to art, I can either satisfy myself or others. Rarely both.
::3:::> I aspire for the title of ::BARD:: (with my own abstract definition/vision of the word.)
::4:::> I like to laugh, but I also don’t enjoy the company of people who cannot be serious.
::5:::> I’m freaked out by churches. I’m some kind of zen heathen.
::6:::> Most recent movies annoy me, with all the flashy people and drama and non-humor.
::7:::> I spend a lot of time trying to get back my roughness, crudeness, infatuation with dirt, with messiness, disorder, wildness, raw and shrill tones; at the same time, trying to crawl into an orderly Way, out of chaos and into peace.
I don’t expect I have many readers at this point, but for the few who have left comments–
Thanks and junk.