the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
strong enough to ache ~ August 19, 2006 - 11:44 p.m. I'm in that gland-swollen state of exhaustion that makes me not want to write because I fear writing will be all about my gland-swollen state of exhaustion. but anyway. here, and writing. listening to tom petty's latest. I've never gotten tired of him. and it's hard to say I made cookies tonight, and filled the house with smells of butter and cinnamon, which smell like love. watched a couple of episodes of alias and had a couple of good conversations with housemates. there's so much in my head right now, but all I want to write about is cookies and love. not true. I don't want to write about cookies and love. I want to wrap myself in them. I want to eat cookies in bed with someone I've just made deep warm delicious love with. I want to fall asleep in someone's arms, drift into dreams so effortlessly that I don't know I've slept until I wake and we're still warm and tangled arms and legs. I want to feel another heartbeat, feel sleeping breath soft on the back of my neck. I don't know when it started to feel like that was too much to hope for. when love goes away, you know that it will come again. when love stays away, waiting wears to a thin sadness that washes the color from hope. when love stays away too long, belief begins to tear and gape and let in the cold. it starts to hurt less to believe that love will never come again than to wait every day for the joyful gift which never arrives. so you stop. you stop waiting, you stop believing. you work hard and you get strong and you take up the armor that all those sweet loves past peeled from around your heart. you harden your eyes and find fierce joy in your own lioness might stalking silent and mysterious down this solitary path. and truly, I've loved this path. I've reveled in my freedom, embraced my strength, danced my joys and sorrows with my wild and widespread family who loves me deeply and well. but just lately, my heart's drawn me again and again close to others whose hearts feel like home to me. whose hearts feel like cinnamon and butter and afterlovemaking cookies in bed. I drink them in, and they breathe open my hard and aching chest, they enflame that bright and whispering ember that's lived there in secret all along. I've lost my will to disbelieve. I've taken up my worn and overtired faith and called it whole. I've opened the door, in spite of myself, and invited love to return. strong enough now, to be vulnerable, these years and miles down this road. open enough to breathe in the sunlight and dream of possibilities. courageous enough to ache with loneliness and fall to pieces dreaming of bodies and soft breath and cookies in bed. goddamn, I'm tired of being alone.
(((rings))) |