Homeless with a Dream and a credit card
What to do with the wind? I sit in it until I build up a laughter. I stand, bracing the impact, listening to the whispers flying by, tempted to sit back down, knowing better. I let the brewing heat in my chest slip past my lips, my shrill scream turns into a coarse howl. What else can I do, but embrace it all.
My Other is out there, somewhere. I feel it. I know. I have no idea what s/he looks like, yet I see glimpses of my Love in a shy, crooked smile, the wet glint of an eye, an effortless laugh, in the radiating heat of a tender touch, and in the warm, lavender breeze that kisses the back of my neck. Insignificant to most, these gestures are our souls traversing across inexplicable plains. So fragile through the distance that with another word, another look–it all disappears, leaving an emptiness that I can’t satisfy, yet I’ve never felt more whole. In between the waves, I float in the lake that is my life, waiting for the one that won’t ask me why. S/he will join me and together we will look up at the sky present to everything/nothing, but each other.
Pictures of the HUF Farm where I have been WWOOFing. It’s been great watching things grow and bloom.
The Pinnacles in Nambung, WA. Went to catch the sunset, it felt like I was on Mars.
This the Moore Estuary where the Moore River meets the Indian Ocean.
Went to North Coogee beach for Boxing Day. Has an interesting history and scenery, a ship crashed into a lighthouse. The ship is still there for people to scuba dive around.
I live in a world so much like the surface of a lake. Everything looks so transparent and simple, beautiful. I can see ten years into my future, yet when the wind blows, I don’t know what to do with myself. Everything seems so fragile.
I feel like a lot of my pain has washed right into this lake of mine. As much I try to rid myself of it all, of my past, I have to be standing in it to see myself, it’s hard to look sometimes, I get trapped looking at the murky edges, but it’s gotten easier. I truly love what I see now. I’ve seen the serenity that can be and what I can share, but most importantly who I should bother to share it with and how. It’s all a work in progress.
A big part of me is afraid that I’ll have to relearn every lesson. I’m really afraid of that. I didn’t leave to have to go through it all again like a broken record. I love who I am now, it’s not perfect, not even close, but fucking-A, if I can jump into that lake and not drown in it, there’s hope. I guess what I’m saying is that the spontaneous, unpredictability of choices and life–that excited skipped beat, the second guess right before you jump, leaves me to believe that anything is possible and it can be all be beautiful, you just have faith and no expectations. So here I am. I’m rebuild that bridge, learning not to test it, but to have faith. To have faith in you, in life, in your word, knowing I may be wrong for doing so, but I’ve been afraid for too long. I hate being told what to do and I won’t let my fears control my life any longer.
Now, what can you bring to the table?
Dear Sandals,
I don’t know where to start, our relationship has been an adventurous one. Your loyalty and steadfastness has taught me more than anyone or any book. You’re ability endure, to bend without breaking, to climb the highest of peaks and the lowest of valley’s without skipping a beat, has been an inspiration. I may have misplaced you from time to time, but I thank the universe that I’ve never lost you. One day it will happen, one day a glass shard may spear you through the soul or one of your leathery arms just might let go….regardless, I will know that it was never by choice and never your fault. I apologize for the times I’ve cursed you. When you’ve been unsturdy in the rain, or carried along tacky gum or dog poop, or when rocks have slipped in between you and I, jabbing me. I realize now that these obstacles that come between us are meant to teach; it only reminds me to appreciate that I’m alive and that I have you to support me through my ups and downs, thick and thin. You have matured with me on this journey and have been my witness as I have been yours. We are worn, but not withered, my friend.
Your partner in crime,
Myra
Footnote: Sandal, you couldn’t always keep my feet clean, but you always kept me grounded.
p.s. It’s the little things in life
Existing starves the soul,
It decays bit by bit,
With every
“love you”, I held back/
Every broken promise/
Unapologetic lie/hateful word I didn’t…..
Every drink that I said would be my last/
Every excuse I’ve made/
Everything
You and I couldn’t say/
The enforced reality of fear–by him/her/I/you/the politics/the size of Kardashian’s ass.
Everything.
Living is
the stubbed toe/
the laugh that stole my breath/
the questions that kept me awake/
the tearful last goodbye/
The first thing I see…..and the last/
Everything
Above and below/
Everything
Between
you and I/
The loudest silence/
the space and lack thereof.
The gnawing voice in my head
Consuming me–Consume it!
Chew on its stringy, parasitic corpse.
Savor it.
The bitter blackness, the raw emptiness
Throw it up. Get all of the negativity out!
Savor every doubt you pick out of your teeth
step over it. don’t look back.
The moment never forgotten
The present not an open door, but an ocean
I’m shaking, I’m laughing
from the shore,
Running to the reflection
of possibilities that I’ve always feared.
RUN!
Don’t fucking look back.
(You don’t need to hold onto the memories/the pain to acknowledge the lesson and to move forward)
Saw a bit of Freemantle, WA. A seaside town famous for it’s port and prison (no longer in service). A windy city with a youthful, affluent energy.
Weird World of M.E. 