mothers daze

per a family members request, i am writing this morning...or should i say AFTERnoon. which brings me to a good point---->it is mothers day today. and i wouldn't have the luxury of waking in the afternoon (with the only pressing matter being my french press as it presses down my coffee grounds) if i WERE a mother.

so, i hope all the mommies out there have a special day, but lets be honest...shouldn't every day be mothers day?

strange we need to 'set a day' aside to lavish flowers and gifts on our mothers...does that mean that we can set aside the other 364 days out of the year to underappreciate?
just sayin.

i think im too selfish for children anyways. god probably looked down upon me and said, nope. not even a child will curb her selfish ways...that was a halfway joke...intended to be funny cuz it holds specks of despairing truth. hey i laughed.

im actually okay with that though. for the longest time i thought it would take a family, a man, children, to complete me in this life. in a traditional sense, i suppose we are. but the more reality takes its perverbial bat to my head, the more i realize that i, actually, am okay without kids and the family and the structure and all of that.

and fairytales? really...? get real. if you believe in fairytales, you should also believe in flying monkeys and honest politics.

yes yes, the tone of this entry has once again meandered down the oh so familiar road of brash cynicism...didn't mean to take you there...but here we are.

on another note, there is a small child who has been growling, yes growling, for the last 30 minutes just outside of my window and quite remarkably sounds like what i would picture the offspring of a hyena and a crazed wildebeast to sound like.

and with that being said, i will undoubtedly enjoy my next strong cup of pressed coffee as i leave you with this exert i wrote for my sister this morning:

"happy mothers day is that poo?
happy mothers day is that poo?
happy mothers day dear god it issss....
happy mothers day it is poo."

shed

its tuesday, and i feel good.
a fresh breath of air has swirled its way through my body, invigorating me and causing a state of peace simultaneously.
i am sanquine that this feeling persists, as the acerbicness of the last few months has left a tart shell around my body which i am currently shedding.
shedding. shedding.

monday.
there is a cloudy blanket covering the sky this morning, temps have dropped a few degrees.
i have alot to be thankful for.
i have my health.
i have my family and their health.
i have forest and rex.
i have a place to live, free of rent.
i have food to eat.
i have a soft bed to sleep in.
i have a car that runs.
my mind has taken a vacation... hopefully i find that soon.

red nails

well its day two of this therapeutic writing process i have assigned to myself.
i am not feeling too great this morning. better than most days but not as good as i'd like to feel. part of me just isn't completely happy. and at this point, i don't even know why. is it things that have set me off in the past that i cant get over completely? or is it that i am just not happy with my life as it is and i am just refusing to give up on it?
i have my first psycho therapy session today. preceeding my facial and after my nails get shelaced a bright shiny red.
festive for the holidays. at least my nails will be in the spirit of christmas. the rest of me falls somewhere on the wayside.

puzzled

well im back. i wish i could say that with gusto. but its more of a drawn out, lack-luster, sighed out greeting.
im back, meaning back to writing, because i feel i need to. i've lost so many pieces of myself along the way, that you can hardly make out the whole puzzle picture anymore. i'm scattered, i'm lost, and i'm disorganized.
writing has always brought me some sort of peace and a way back to understanding myself. so me writing now, is more of a therapy than anything else.
its hard for me to even post this after i write it, because i want my 'millions' of readers to think i'm well.
so. there's nothing new here. i've been to this place within myself before. i like to call it my perfect nightmare, where the days are as dark as the nights...where the sinister pains that lurk inside of me show their many fearful faces...where i push when i want to hold close, where i am green with jealousy, red with anger, blue with sadness. where i literally create this world around me, comprised of nothing more than my worst fears imaginable. come true.
and thats where i am right now.
i have created this world around me. i have created this misery and the pain. it doesn't need to be like this.
the only times i ever feel like this are when i am in love.
so, here i am again. i start out with this unparalleled, practically super-human strength, and not long after...i am a hollowed out shell of what i used to be.
so here i am, left with the casing of julia. and the casing is even deteriorating. i can't seem to pull myself together, even as i watch my dreams fall through my fingers.

weary

our weary souls march across these lands, the weight of the world on our shoulders. the injustices seem to seep into our bodies, creating contours, folds, and lines.
grimacing in the face of the betrayer, we stumble on.
life: a place of struggle.
life: a relentless beating of already tortured souls.
where is the fairness of this world?
where is the perfect order amidst the chaos?

we've touched the brilliance of peace and sanctity.
some more than others.
its there.
the peace is there.
now,
lets find it.

deep and dark

june 29th. 2011.
i am up early, sipping freshly brewed french roast starbucks, so deep and dark in its ways. naughty. the java is bathing in a hot pool of caffeinated bliss alongside a slightly ridiculous amount of cream and raw sugar, both carefree and totally nude.
the nevada sun is pouring through the bay windows here, designing geometric shadows on the round glass table i am sitting at. looks like its gonna be another triple digit day outside, not a cloud or breeze to be found.
in the background, rex chomps emphatically on his breakfast. And further down the hall, reggae music beats its way through thin air to find its way to my vulnerable eardrums.
even my coffee cup has a reggae theme.
and one more cup, please and thankyou coffee gods.

last night, during dinner, forest and i revved up vintage ideas and philosphies, including the suffering in this world, so deep and dark in its ways. and..in our quest for world peace (ahem), we nodded at the notion that it really is all about perspective. yea, thats a period there. i suppose circumtance weasles its way into unhappiness as well. and maybe even genetic makeup. but the majority of tortured souls have a choice. and what is this life for if not to be happy? how could we NOT desperately seek a state of well-being, as if our lives depended upon it? which they do.

and so it goes. heres to perspective.