When the earth rights itself again,
And taste tries to return to the tongue,
Your body has slammed shut. Forever.
No keys exist.

"I Got Hit on at a Funeral", "Disappointment D-Day" and other Easter tales.

I could not begin to tell you what a terrible weekend it was to be me. Damned, doubtful, dumb-ass me.

Rest in Peace Aunt Florence. Aunt Flo. It is always so incredibly hard when a life is taken from us. So incredibly hard. If you have known them, if you have loved them, it is always so incredibly hard.

A lot of times, though, I feel like I don't have the right to cry. Me, who has held little more than the tritest familial conversations with, who has never given you a phone call, me, who with such staggering faith barely has a right to step into those church walls. I don't have a right to cry. So I hold it in. when everyone around me, everyone I care about is breaking down… I don't have the same pain that they have, and so I shut up and try to be a comforter, or invisible. Usually invisible. On those days, I just can't wait to go home and break down on my own.
Life is so fragile. I will have to watch people I love pass away. I will have to say goodbye to some of the closest people in my life. And I don't have the strength. I just don't.
The home-going ceremony. Everyone always fucking talks about how HARD it is to be a Christian how HARD it is to stand up for what you believe in. Well what about when you don't know what you believe? Can you imagine how incredibly hard that is? To go to your aunt's funeral and not be sure. Can you imagine? Can you understand.
Why the HELL has faith forsaken me? Why the HELL am I so confused?

I got hit on at a funeral? Have you heard of this? Why the HELL? "I saw you yesterday at the wake, but I didn't think it would be right to approach you with your mom there and all" good insight, buddy… just not good enough. At least he was nice about it, I wasn't some fine piece of ass, no, I was "the most beautiful girl he's ever seen." buddy needs glasses or a better line…" gave me his card and left me alone. I was incredulous and for some reason felt slightly violated… but whatever. Bygones, right?

Easter morning. Sunrise service. Was later at 5:40, no room in the chapel so had to sit in the other chapel and watch on the tv. Rev. Sanders was wonderful, as always… but not getting the power of the fellowship did not help revive me… and I felt like a traitor. Made dinner at aunt Roz's, dyed Easter eggs, which was wonderful. Grandma was slightly disappointed to realize that PJ was only studying religion and not becoming that evangelical she always wanted her own grandkids to be. Still proud of his religious pursuits… in ways, I feel like this weekend, PJ became part of my family, really, instead of just my boyfriend who they happen to really like. Uncle Arthur actually accidently referred to him as my fiance lol, not even as a joke… In the family pictures now beside the Dow men, it’s a different feeling, but I like it… except that in a way, it's making me expect more from you babe… not good in moments like this. I guess you've been so perfect lately, you're allowed to slip some days… and it is disappointment d-day, right? Still…

Well I even disappointed a best friend today. Without even realizing it, but I hurt her and I'm incredibly sorry. It was a weird misunderstanding that I wasn't expecting. Another bullet I didn’t think I'd have to take. It's been an incredibly hard weekend, and im back to a life that im growing tired of. Apparently, it's nowhere close to over.

b/c the "what's on your mind" thing on facebook could not fit this bullshit

AHHHHHHHHHHHH i'm losing my mind.

i can count on one hand the amount of things i've wanted as bad as a real chance in publishing. lol. it's so crazy. for being something that i've only been relatively recently introduced to, it's taking over my aspirations in an exponential manner to the point where I can't imagine anything i'd rather do for a career. it's pretty ridiculous. i have 3 people to thank for this: 1st, Jane Lee!!! for putting it into my head and getting me to research the industry enough to really pique my interest. 2nd, Georgia Fowler... my supposed academic adviser whom i've only met once, who posted in her email updates the open opportunity at the Press, and 3rd, Allison Hack... for liking me enough to hire me haha. and of course, the rest: the endless searching on bookjobs, penguin, random house, simon and schuster, hachette, subscribing to publisher's weekly, and all the other information and awareness I so eagerly hunt out, haha, that's all to blame on my hyper-active hopes for the future. the very same hyper-activity that's keeping me awake 2:30 in the AM trying to plan out the most efficient and realistic course of action for the next 3 years. lol. ugh. i hate it sometimes.
but right now, i'm eager and excited and ready to wake and write some cover letters lmao. probably not going to happen, but whatever.
anyway, this blog is just the product of too many hours of possibilities presented to me and my need to get back in touch with my normal consciousness. haha.

until tomorrow...

the poem

so i still can't do it. this poem is crap. it's a relation to a dream i had where i thought i was pregnant. thought i gave birth, but it turned out it was all in my head. it effected me more than i would have ever imagined.


I cannot
get out
of my dream.

I stood there
proud as a
life-giver
with vivacity growing inside me
as sure as my
identity

I was ME.
a not yet ripe
but deceivingly sweet
balloon of potency

and it was JOY
that overwhelmed me as I
stepped out into the sun

mixed with FEAR
that clouded my
consciousness...

i barely heard the doctors hurried directions
barely saw their blur as they lay me down
hardly felt the hands between my legs
bracing to hold the life of my

"baby boy."

they gave me
each word
like a sleeping pill
carrying my world to darkness.

until it was
completely.
inexplicably.
dead.

my son!
my son.
MY SON!

born
completely.
inexplicably.
dead.

and I knew.
as sure as my identity,
I knew.
as sure as my existence.

I too would be victim
of a too unstable world
If I wasn't held too tightly

quote the
strait-jacket
convincing me
of my insanity

and he -
he was just an illusion
an allusion to my future life

the ripeness-
in my head.
the sweetness-
tart enough to curdle my hopes

and I woke.

woke to a fucking
april joke.

stood up and felt the blood rushing between my legs
reaffirming my emptiness.

and when I went to breathe
each breath ached with
a mother's loss
of her only child.
the pain more real,
more sure than my own existence.

could not stand the rain so I
stopped
swimming.
lay back down
only to remember
the child that should be
laying with me.

I cannot
get out
of my dream.

his nonexistence
screams inside of me.

i miss someone who never existed
never really existed, even in my dreams.
i miss him with the pain of a lost love.

i promised myself a poem about it today and i only got about halfway through.
i cant seem to escape from it...
fucking april first.
no jokes, only rain
and the tricks of the mind