Tuesday, September 28, 2004     9:45 AM

Point in Time

If she's writing a letter on a sheet of mica
to be left on the shelf of the cave
with the century's other letters each
stained with its own DNA expressed
in love's naked dark or the dawn
of a day of stone:
it's a fact like a town cross-haired on a map
But we are not keeping archives here
where all can be blown away
nor raking the graves in Pere-Lachaise
nor is she beholden or dutiful
as her pen pushes its final stroke
into the mineral page
molecule speaking to molecule
for just this moment

This is the point in time when
she must re-condense her purpose
like ink, like rain, like winter light
like foolishness and hatred
like the blood her hand first knew
as a wet patch on the staircase wall
she was feeling her way down in the dark. - Adrienne Rich

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there is apparently no such thing as an innocent question, because all have ulterior motives - or so i have discovered.

we all know this, but it bears repeating - we hurt the ones we love the most.

when one is always sick, it becomes hard to remember what feeling well is like. this is suckage of the highest magnitude.

feh.

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i had my first hot espresso drink of the season this morning, due in part to the cool air as well as my hopes that by acknowledging the arrival of Fall, it will come break through the oppressive cloak of summer and get here a bit sooner.

i missed my first ever Cruxshadows show this past Monday, and will most likely miss the one tomorrow as well. although i was a bit sad at first, but priorities are what they are and i had much more fun spending time with my most favorite person, watching a good movie and learning cockney rhyming slang.

of course quality time means less quality sleep, as i'm averaging about 2 to 3 hours a night. strangely, this is not bothering me so much.

saw Ani Difanco last weekend, in what was perhaps the best show ever. the energy was amazing, and although she didn't do many older songs, the unreleased ones she performed were spectacular. plus, again, the company made the night for me.

so, i decided yesterday that i need to dust off my creativity, which apparently i placed very far back on some high shelf. i've been casually looking around for a writing class to take, and hopefully i'll find something fitting for the Spring and maybe even get to take it with my favorite person.

this weekend is Scottish weekend at Ren Faire, as well as (i think) Elektroschock, so it shall be fun and eventful.

and, as a public service announcement for anyone who likes poetry and lives in the Baltimore area, Adrienne Rich will be speaking at Roland Park Country School on September 28th at 7:30 pm.

Addendum: never tell me the odds, it pisses me off.

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Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn't make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares still walking. When we hold each other we feel not safe, but better.'It's all right' we whisper, 'I'm here, I love you.' and we lie: 'I'll never leave you.' For just a moment or two the darkness doesn't seem so bad.

Sometimes I suspect that we build our traps ourselves, then we back into them, pretending amazment the while.

Charitably... I think... sometimes, perhaps , one must change or die. And, in the end,there were,perhaps limits to how much he could let himself change.

-Neil Gaiman

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you know what i'm tired of?

well, then let me enlighten you.

i'm tired of immaturity. i'm tired of stupid, silly games. i'm tired of the word "flirting" and all it entails. i'm tired of being sick, feeling bad, not knowing, knowing too much. i'm tired of feeling unloved, not cared about. i'm tired of feeling undesired. i'm tired of knowing i'm right and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

i'm tired of being tired.

i'm tired of love lost, stolen words, borrowed time, unrequited trust. i'm tired of being alone with my thoughts at 4 a.m. - i'm tired of having thoughts at 4 a. m.

i'm tired of misperceived misunderstandings, thoughtless reactions, unfair conclusions. i'm tired of unfinished sentences, unwanted gestures.

i'm tired of feeling like this is it - is this it, all there is?

i'm tired of the abuse, the misuse, the passive neglect, the active thoughtlessness.

i'm tired of knowing i'm too good and yet never being good enough.

i'm just so tired. my effort is spent.

so - wake up. it's your move now.

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