wish you were here

A little cutting and pasting:

I decided to stay home and try and go to bed a little early tonight.

I’ve been stressing myself out over a few things this week, both business and personal.

And I’ve been trying not to fall into another emotional self-flagellation hole, and this week has been really trying my patience. Last night at the show, and maybe it was my sleep dep talking back to me, I just felt really heavy and I realized that for the past two years I haven’t had a real breakdown. I’ve thought I had one a couple of times, but I think I was just projecting all the crap I was going through on other people.

Or poems, take your pick.

I think I’m at the point right now where I’ve been by myself so much that I’m pretty shut down to having any kind of healthy physical relationship with a man; I have no reason to feel like a boy has to be a distraction instead of someone I can build a life with, and being that that’s been the modus operandi for the past 5 years of my life, I think I need a do-over in the relational department.

I have lots of friends who are great people and care about me when I’m not looking. And that’s a nice, warming thought, but I’m so tired I can’t even squeeze water out of my eyes anymore. I hate it.

And maybe that’s why I’m thinking on taking on the project that’s in front of me right now (I would explain it here, but it’s not set in stone yet and I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up– if you’ve talked to me face to face in the past week, you know what I’m talking about.) I’d rather be distracted with something inanimate so I don’t have to think about being emotional.

I miss my parents. I can’t lie about that. I would not be sitting in this house, with this stuff, in this situation, typing these words if mom and dad weren’t gone. But that’s what hard living does, it takes you out early. But I wonder if I’d really be in a better place. Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes I don’t care either way. I’m here now, and it’s what I have to deal with.

I don’t even know what I really want anymore, if that makes sense. I just want to find that out when I find it. Is that lazy? Am I coping out, not willing to want to do the emotional work?

Here’s a question.

Do you write a poem for a person who wrote a response to your poem? Your subject: someone who uses lines from your own poem, in specifics part 2. The opposition’s idea: just because they’re thin and blonde, doesn’t mean they don’t have pain.

Discuss.

There’s a big announcement in the works. I may know by the end of the week for sure what’s going on.

Today’s felt like a long day, even though it really wasn’t. Just a lot of stuff running through my head, that I don’t want to get into here.

The workshop today went really well, and I’m feeling good about being a page poet right now, especially after writing a few slam pieces right after returning from Chicago. It’s hard to believe Nats were already almost 3 months ago.

I think I got sick mostly because everything was catching up to me. I’d been to quite a few things over the past few weeks there hasn’t been many nights where I’ve stayed home and done nothing. When you live alone, you’re more apt just to be somewhere that isn’t your house.

Writing’s going good, but boys are not. And I’m still a little sniffly and coughy and sounding a little husky.

I’d like a surprise. A really, really good one.

Laundry’s done. This is good. The first song to come on my mp3 player today is “No Woman, No Cry.” This too is a good sign for the day.

Had a hard time trying to sleep last night. Mike called me about 11 last night with quite a bit to mull over, partly bad news (friends moving away) and partly good news (a new, erm, possible business venture). I tried to play my guitar until I got tired, which worked, but then I sat in bed for about 45 minutes thinking about stuff, and for the most part feeling depressed.

I’ve gotten a couple of readings and signs that this winter is going to be very good for me, but it’s looking pretty bleak right now if you ask me.

And the first goalpost of that sentiment? In about 2 more weeks I’ll be 2 years celibate. Mostly on purpose. I mean I could’ve had some opportunity, but I’m being adamant this year about not forcing myself into the same old “he likes me way more than I like him” bit. I’m actually willing myself to hold out for something better.

I’m feeling good about the poems I’ve been doing lately, but I have yet to actually feel it rather than consiously know it. Maybe that’s the corner I need to turn in the new year.

Feeling a little better today– not as phlegmy, but still sniffly and a little out of my head with sinus pressure.

I’m in a writing mood but I should be in bed already. Been catching up on some Bukowski.

I’ve had suggestions to record the entire chapbook onto CD, but this week’s been so just bad all around with being sick and just feeling up and down anyway I might just wait another week– if I could have something for the next slam, that’d be cool, but I’m not really in any hurry to get that done. I still have a few chapbooks to get rid of first, then I have to figure out if I should make another batch or hold off for a little bit. I may make some if we end up going to the slam in Arizona next month.

Speaking of next month, on the 23rd, it looks like we’ll be having a poetry thing at the bar. And I’m going to be looking for a feature to open up– if any poets drop by here, especially if you’re out-of-towners, drop me an email. I can also put you up at my house if you need a bed. I have good references.

We also don’t have a feature for the slam on the 3rd, which we haven’t even talked about yet. I’m going to be hosting, so featuring would be bad for me– I’m sick of all the pieces I did in the slam and at Nationals, and I’m trying to avoid doing those pieces for a long time, if at all possible.

Yeah, to bed. I need to write some more haikus for Monday.

So, even though I’m still a little stuffy, I’d decided I’d go down to Roma.

The first thing Gary, one of the owners, says, is, “We’re not closing until the end of November, so let everybody know.”

“Don’t tease me like that!” Was the only response I could muster up before asking for some tea.

I’m too stuffed up to write right now.

And Rerun, too, today.

Such a depressing week. And I’m stuffed up on top of it, for no reason whatsoever.