The world aligns. Patterns emerge from some ethereal, Jungian perfection. And there, there I am. In the middle.
I am surrounded by these amazing, bright and beautiful people, and to each I am tethered along a golden thread that shines perfectly clear. My very tread tangles a few more at my Achilles heel. Where are they coming from? I wasn't looking for this.
The stories are given freely, with only the touch to open each blossom into full bloom.
I feel so wide I could encompass the world in my arms and love the whole of it.
The face of god is in here somewhere, along with mine and where they find some smooshy, gnostic balance between them.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Right Now
Borders is closing and I don't want to get married.
I am going to miss my job. Not right now, during the first weekend of a company-wide liquidation sales. Right now I want to collapse into a boneless heap of exhaustion and sleep until I open the store tomorrow. Also, fuck you Borders. This was the best job I've ever had.
I don't believe in soul mates. It's tacky. I do believe that some people can stumble into each others' lives and fit so perfectly it defies reason. I also believe that strong emotional connections require calibration and upkeep. Martin and I have both of these things I believe in. What we share sings with the harmonic resonance of being a damn good fit. Hitherto unknown quantities of happiness abound. Beauty overwhelms. Love blossoms where once a desert burned.
But I live in that desert. All I know of my previous marriage is rage. I can't think about my ex-husband without hating him. Bile is the taste of my name and his conjoined. Sifting the ashes of memory yields the tiny treasures grown from pressure, time and me. A mountain does not long for the glacial mass that upset it.
No, marriage has not been good to me. I want no part of it.
Realizing this, right now, is a kick in some part of my anatomy.
I am going to miss my job. Not right now, during the first weekend of a company-wide liquidation sales. Right now I want to collapse into a boneless heap of exhaustion and sleep until I open the store tomorrow. Also, fuck you Borders. This was the best job I've ever had.
I don't believe in soul mates. It's tacky. I do believe that some people can stumble into each others' lives and fit so perfectly it defies reason. I also believe that strong emotional connections require calibration and upkeep. Martin and I have both of these things I believe in. What we share sings with the harmonic resonance of being a damn good fit. Hitherto unknown quantities of happiness abound. Beauty overwhelms. Love blossoms where once a desert burned.
But I live in that desert. All I know of my previous marriage is rage. I can't think about my ex-husband without hating him. Bile is the taste of my name and his conjoined. Sifting the ashes of memory yields the tiny treasures grown from pressure, time and me. A mountain does not long for the glacial mass that upset it.
No, marriage has not been good to me. I want no part of it.
Realizing this, right now, is a kick in some part of my anatomy.
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