Obligations and Wolves

I’m feeling under somewhat of an obligation to post something else on here. I created it for a reason right? And that reason was to have a place to dump my feelings. Well I’m not putting this to very good use am I? But my problem friends, is that I a don’t often allow myself to let my emotions build up to a point where I need to dump them. Not sure if that’s healthy or not…

I live in Wolf Time.

Wolf Time?

Yes. Wolf Time. You heard (read) me right folks. Let me explain, I try and mostly succeed in living my life in a way where, yes, I know that there are stressful/ confusing/ anxiety making things going on or coming up in the future but I live in the “now” and don’t let the things those problem-causing-things interrupt my life. I’ve gotten very good at it. I call it Wolf Time because wolves or other feral animals live in a way that prevents them from thinking about what you wish something was, they have no need for wishing- wishing doesn’t bring them food or shelter. They deal with what they have as absolute and don’t get depressed or stressed about what they had last year or what the wish they had. If its raining a wolf doesn’t angry at mother nature for bringing the rain he accepts it for what it is and lets it roll off his coat.

If impending doom is going to be making a house call to me next Thursday, I will do what I can to prepare for it but there comes a point where you can prepare no farther and you just have to wait. That’s when some people let themselves get stressed and lose sleep with the never ending waiting and wondering but for me that’s when I activate Wolf Time (Wolf Time to commence blast off in 10...9...8...). Then, when I meet impending doom on Thursday I say ‘ Hi sucks to meet you. Piss off’ and then I deal with the earthquakes it leaves behind.

This works for me most the time and lets me float through the stressful times in my life still getting enough sleep and being able to laugh. The downside is that sometimes it can leave me a little numb and sometimes it doesn’t work. I’m not some emotionally impervious brick wall. Sometimes things build up and break my dam and I cant live in wolf time anymore. It comes out quick and in a flood, it makes me feel brittle and porous and makes my heart twist.

The Tale Is Told...

Up till now tireless reader, I have been jumping and dancing around the point. The reason I am lost, the reason I am without Mi Novio. I am afraid to write it down, to say it out loud. I am afraid that you, restless traversers of the global village, will judge me. Will condemn me for my life not being the way i always believed it would be. But I have always been one to lead with my heart and my feelings rather then logic and deduction.

I am going to document my experience the way I wrote it down in my journal the night it happened, now this is just a final ordeal in a long run of...ordeals...

What a nightmare. At this point I am numb, I cant feel my limbs they dangle at my sides like logs. My head feels heavy and swollen. It pounds and pounds like a black horse galloping through my skull. My wooden fingers shake and stiffen and make it hard to hold my pen. My stomach heaves and the sick feeling travels, I can feel it start in my stomach and it sits there heavy and loathing, then it moves, I can feel the nausea prance up my spine and take a break at my shoulders so that they slump and slope, then it traipses to my thighs.

At the same time my ears and heart and head are screaming, screaming all at the same time. No wonder my eyes are so tired. Not Mi Novio they scream! I want Mi Novio back they hammer, how could he? they moan. Not again. Not again. Not again. My teeth are ringing and wailing.

They came and desecrated my house again. Defiled it with their ashen presence.

A Bang Bang Bang on the door jerks me awake, they file in like gigantic black ants in a row, men in black vests. They have guns. Their black boots leer and growl at me, listen, one is talking. What is he saying?

"Remember me? Remember me?"

Glaring, aggressive. Full of armored arrogance and shielded with walls of ignorance. He keeps tightening the handcuffs, I can feel the metal bite eagerly into my flesh my bones. I'm scared but I don't cry yet not in front of the man who I remember.

They threaten me.

The man I remember leaves and still I don't cry.

All the men with the clumsy callous hands they paw and stomp through our things. They are tarnishing our home, Novio.

Get out I glare. Get out, I aim hatred at them they way that they aimed their guns at me. I want them to feel how little I think of them, how I see them as kin to roaches crawling over everything. I step on them.

They find nothing but they take everything, my pride, my safety, my dignity, and Mi Novio.

So now you know, or you can at least make an educated guess because i don't believe I have actually said it. Mi Novio is incarcerated. He has been for awhile. Longer then I thought possible for the crime.

I'm not going to sate your curiosity and tell you what he did, because I want to protect my anonymity. But I can tell you that he is not in jail for drugs, alcohol, stealing, battery, abuse, murder, or any kind of conspiracy. He is in jail for being young and dumb and impulsive. And the city is making an example out of him. They saw an opportunity to take advantage of a couple of poor and inexperienced kids and put away a good person and they took it...

I didn't think anything like this kind of injustice could happen in my America. I used to believe in the justice system and fair and impartial judgement. Now I know better. Now I know that you never talk to cops, the only thing you have to say to them is 'I want my lawyer' and I know that in order to get "fair" treatment you need at least ten thousand dollars...

Chimera

I had another dream this one is worse. This one is my worst nightmare, dear readers. This is my chimera.

I had a good night, it was the 4th of July so my family was in town and we were sitting on the porch watching the neighbors light off illegal fireworks and playing cards. I was able to put my dysfunctional life aside and pretend that everything was normal. I ended up sleeping on my moms sofa with a blanket that was covered in cat fur. I hate sleeping on sofas and I hate sleeping at my moms house so needless to say I wasn't comfortable and it took me longer then normal to get to sleep at all...

I remember the beginning fuzzily, the edges of everything was blurred slightly. I am there but I am older, years have gone by and I'm standing on a pedestal in a white dress, a gown. I look at myself in the mirror and realize that I am wearing a wedding dress and my mom is standing behind me with happy tears in her eyes. Someone hands me a perfectly coiffed bouquet so everyone can get the full effect...People are talking around me but I cant really see them, I think that they are talking about me and this peacock-y, princess dress I've found myself in somehow.

I'm getting married. I'm getting married to a nice man who treats me well, who is probably an accountant.

I'm content.

Standing there in that dress, I look at myself in the mirror and I start to get a tickle in the back of my mind, a sense that I'm forgetting something. I frown at my reflection.

Looking at my mom in the mirror, I whisper, "It isn't supposed to be like this."

My mom freezes, she wont meet my eyes.

The sense that I'm forgetting something huge gets stronger and I start to feel panicky, my chest tightens. Why cant I remember?

Turning to my mom I grab her arm, "Mom, its not supposed to be like this, why cant I remember?" I'm almost yelling.

She finally meets my eyes, and like a crack I remember.

How could I forget? Mi Novio, I'm supposed to be with him. What happened how did I leave him behind? How did I forget his name? Where is he now? Am I too late?

I'm sobbing.

I wake up this way, on the couch crying out loud and hoping that no one heard me and will come out to see whats wrong. No one does.

I have never woken up crying before from a dream. I don't think that you, my avid readers, understand how this can be my chimera. It doesn't seem that bad does it? Marrying an account who loves you. But its not him, its not Mi Novio, and that makes all the difference in the world. I was never a child that grew up dreaming about white weddings and being Mr and Mrs Jones. So to have a dream where I am actually getting married at all and then to be marrying the wrong person... it was horrible. especially since this is about an inch away from happening. My relationship is being torn from our hands and neither of us want it but we may have no choice.

And that is the scariest part. Imagine for a moment, that you found the person that you love with all of your soul, and he loves you too. You fight yes, but you always make up and are stronger for it. Your weaknesses are where he shines and where his light may falter is where yours stands out. You compliment each other like two puzzle pieces and want nothing more then to build your lives together. Are you imagining it? Good because now I want you to imagine that it is being taken from you, your heart and soul are being ripped apart. It hurts and your trying to hang so hard but after awhile your hands start to hurt and you slip a little...

What do you do? How long can you stay like that?

Dreamscapes

Everything seems a different color today. I'm feeling insecure and vulnerable. I had a strange dream last night it felt very powerful and very real...

Mi Novio and I are driving, I am in the passenger seat as usual and I can feel the subtle vibrations of the engine through my feet, I'm wearing a jacket but no sunglasses, which is out of the ordinary.

Through the passenger window I can see the tall vibrant green trees that line the side of the freeway, they leave a murky reflection on the glass. I don't know if the sky is blue or if its cold outside but there is a light filtering through the car.

Mi Novio turns and he says something to me like 'Its got to get home' or 'We've got to get home.' Its unclear. But I remember thinking that was a strange thing for him to say because we're are going to work, we just left our home. But, I don't say anything and I don't look at him because we are still driving and this stretch of the freeway seems very long and very still like we are not going anywhere at all.

I'm still looking out the window, I haven't moved at all, and I don't see anything but the whipping trees and the constant light, now I hear a shriek and it takes me a second to realize that it wasn't the shriek of a lady in distress but the long squeal of tires on pavement, it took me so long to realize this that now we are spinning and I'm gripping the seat but I am not screaming, my mouth isn't even gaped open. It seems so slow. Then I hear a low almost quiet crunch and I look out my window and I can see through it and into the shattered front windshield of another car but I cant see anyone in it, like this is a Stephen King book and there is a herd of sentient vehicles running amok on the freeway.

I look at Mi Novio and I cant take my eyes of of him and I'm struggling now because my legs are stuck and they are probably crushed. But my eyes and my mind is drawn into Mi Novio and he is looking at me too and I can feel it and this moment, this moment is lasting forever, I can hear other cars colliding around us and maybe even into us and I can smell the burning of rubber. I know we are in trouble, probably dying but the only thing I can feel is Mi Novio. We never take our eyes off each other and I don't know if the car is still spinning or of its just us.

"...And under the waning moon

Still I long for you

Alone against the light

Solitude am I."

Late Nights, Not As Much Fun As They Sound

So its late and I have to work tomorrow, but I cant sleep, I'm not tired yet. I know tomorrow I will regret not meeting up with Mister Sandman by now but...

I sort of liked writing that last post and I've been thinking about what else I can write and I'm coming up blank here. So I'm just kind of letting my fingers stroll across the keys and see what comes out.

I know I'm not a writer I don't claim to be one. I know if anyone reads this they will be appalled at the sloppy editing and the lack of proper transitions. I know I'm not an eloquent writer, I'm not going to log in here and write funny anecdotes about life and family. I'm just going to write about my observations, my thoughts and the things I'm struggling to understand or come to grips with right now. I think that probably is part of the reason I started this, my life right now has been torn apart, flipped upside down and then pieced together sloppily. Some of the pieces are in the wrong spots and some are left where ever they may have landed, maybe I will be able to pick those ones up later.

"...At my first turn

The fat lop-lit moon

Shouldered me and whispered

'I am here with you

Never not here.

Turn you to dust or

Turn you to ash.

I will be there'..."

I don't know who wrote that and honestly I don't care, this is just a fragment of a larger poem, the rest of it is trash. But this part I fell in love with I can't get it out of my head. It brings me some measure of comfort, it fends off the loneliness with an umbrella skeleton. Hopefully it may speak to you my imaginary friends, as loudly as it does for me.

Until next time.

Numero Uno

Okay so this is my FIRST EVER experience with any kind of blogging. Ive never even really been one to keep a journal with any sort of regularity. But I've been told its therapeutic, if you cant tell already, I'm a skeptic.

I am generally uncomfortable with letting anyone know too much about me. I am shy by nature and posting a public blog makes my teeth ache. But as I am not telling anyone that I know I have started this I think I am pretty anonymous here. Hopefully. Maybe when I'm ready I will let some people know about this, but then again probably not...

This is the first post of my first blog and is really just an introduction. Not introducing myself to you, all you voyeurs, you insomniacs, you reality show addicts. But introducing my fingers to this keyboard and introducing my guarded mind to the nerve-wreaking experience of putting myself out there of opening myself up of hopefully coming out of my shell. Because I am after all, ladies and gentleman, I am a quintessential Cancerian.

So here goes nothing, as they say.

Hopefully I will live up to your expectations, but even more hopefully I will live up to my own.

We will let the stars decide, shall we?