the worry about him sits like a hot stone right on my ribcage. I am feeling it now because I am too weak not to because I spent all my weaponized fine on sunshine today and I have none left.
Weaponized fine. sounds like a potential chapter title, doesn't it? it's when you have to be always fucking fine to the point that you are nuclear fucking fine. I'm so fine, it'd make your head spin. since approximately that obit search which we'll repeat tomorrow night when Ears comes over for dinner inevitably.
welp. if the goal was to discourage me from wanting to fuck him ever, that has been accomplished. which only proves it didn't really have much to do with that in the first place since that doesn't do anything to remove this stone of worry.
I am flummoxed by man's inability to see women as whole things. there's always a just before the word girl. I would bet my life that he would not let joe worry because he has not fucked Joe and that is just a fucking cunt hair off from a woman in that dude's case 🤨 and yet.
I should text that dude and see if he's worried. if he ain't worried then definitely there's nothing to worry about, he's just treating me like a girl. but I can't do that. can't or won't. won't.
sunshine says I'm a sucker. "if they's blocking you, they just on a bender, that's all"
I don't think the word just belongs before the word drinking any more than it belongs before the word girl in his case
I feel forced to have the thought experiment that I've outlived him. like mark. like patti.
I am trying to figure out how in the world this hot heavy stone on my chest could be a good thing because I'm stuck with it and I don't want to feel anything I don't want to feel which is like this. maybe I could learn to think of it like a cat, no claws unless I try to move it so I leave it alone (?)
I dunno what to do or think or feel about anything except dying is bad let's try to avoid it - that's it - and even that now I gotta be like "or not, cool either way"
I hate to admit defeat but
but I fear he might heading into the ground. leaving me nbd he always does that 🙄. leaving me alive = leaving me for dead. that's different
"....every displaced person understands that uncertainty is not tangential to human existence but the very essence of it. Since one can never be sure what tomorrow will bring, one cannot trust Dame Fortuna—the goddess of destiny and luck—even when she seems to favor you for once. One needs to always be prepared for a crisis, calamity or sudden exodus. Being an outsider is all about survival, and no one moves foward by holding back." There Are Rivers in The Sky
if I was a cowboy - miranda lambert
off to forage the Falls for Sunshine - her address is not one I'm hesitant to show up at like it or not, I. Do. Not. Give. A. Fuck.
If I was a cowboy, I'd be the queen
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| found her - 45 min to Singer Farms and 45 min back, wawawa the whollllle time (ok, barf it up and outa there some more, I gocthu) (sigh) (how does anyone come back to the living and hold at least? there has to be a way, we've still got thriving to do yet 🤦🏻♀️ even someone whose name is SUNNY ACTUALLY can see no light, it's like I'm living with everybody's ghost and finally, I'm like, fine we're already dead. I accept 🙄 whatever. but. if so, then there's nothing to lose and I'm back to stomping around. it's dis-heart-ening. we've all cried so o god damn much) and I got a Grav Gandolfini |
ch 11 "Velocity"
For every 3-4 "up critiques" like these, the editor sends 20 suggestions for improvement, mostly having to do with my tendency to write very densely. Sometimes I do get tangled up in claws/clauses. And then it makes suggestions for where the plot might go next that I never take, and in fact I rule them out. There is no plot. I just write and rewrite until the changes I make add up to a pattern that is recognizeable so that I myself can see what/how I am thinking.
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| not true, there is just some truth in it; we forged a ride-or-die pact of recovery, that is why not "want"; that ride had ejector seats 🤷🏻♀️ |
It's a beautiful day. I was going to go outside and play, but it's still so cold 🥶. So I collaged the Empress card, then let this chapter bubble up into its words. Full on Virgo, all I did was make sense (art) today.
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| It doesn't have to be pure joy all the time, obviously. But like a really beautiful lie has to have some truth in it, this shit has to have some joy in it. And the darker the time, the sharper that joy has to become. |
You’re in full-on Virgo mode this weekend. (uh oh). You're thankful to be out of survival mode, but the lessons you learned there still apply, and you can conjure the vibe when you need to. (on a dime) You focus intently on what matters. All else shrinks to its proper size.
no springtime - allison russel ft joy oladokun & julie williams
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| "...when the Empress card appears, it is an invitation to take care of what is most important to you in a joyful loving way." |
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| her name is Blanche |
"pants off ft it's spring"
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DUwdQHYDpvP/?igsh=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==
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| lit another one "Exceed Expectation Harder (Please)" |
my bed is so full of kids and dogs right now that a cal king be too small lol, one dog and one kid take turns using my ass as a pillow
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Relationships bring out your creativity, and that's why people find you so fetching. You don't just show up hoping to fill the role; you show up with the burgeoning creative energy to make it your own.
What the fuck have I been saying all along? This is the apocalypse, both personal and global. The only good thing about an apocalypse is nothing has to be anything it has been before. It doesn't even have to be called a word that already exists. And that's not just for romance (the most annoying of categories), it goes for every kind of relationship. I always thought that way, inclined that way, but now it's a belief.
There is no part of me that wants to go back to the past anywhere in it. I look back and pull out of the rubble the memory diamonds that got created in the pressures, that's all.
I want to look ahead of me the same way my mom would look at a blank wall. Excited for the possibilities of a million little choices of beauty. Mulling where she'll put the first stroke. And then the second. When she does that, everybody comes running to watch or to pick up a paintbrush, and she's universally enthusiastic about folding in what shows up and letting it change what becomes.
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| the girliest pickup I have ever seen in real life 🤣 I had only ever seen them online 🤣 I could also try out the honda ridgeline, but because of the chevy silverado song, I thought that might be too nate-adjacent existentially. and I have to give them credit for listening to me about my mom and bringing me the one with the step ups already installed. I do like it a lot when people are just plain ol nice |
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| Limited: 2.5L Turbocharged engine, Standard AWD, 5,000 lbs towing (reading about it 🧐) |
ch 9 "Not Even Nate"
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| my inner butterknife! she who weilds words like God's kind-ish cleaver, may I grow up to be more like 🙏 |
He has asked me to stop giving a shit. That is what blocking only me can only mean. And I can only do what I've always done in the face of that ask. Go to space.
I realized I was in space again when we googled his name for an obit on Monday, something I used to do all the time but haven't done in years. I haven't had to assume that's the only way I would find out. But it is again now.
I really hated that obit search. #trigger
"I love you never doubt that."
>something is missing here<
"If I die, the newspaper will let you know eventually."
I do not doubt the love, actually, as uhhm amorphous as it is. But see how the space between those two sentences is a wtf lacuna? What can any sane person do with that space? I tried filling it with a novel of options, vixen to cousin to fucking auntie, because what do I have but words? That's why I have to mean things. Try hard to find the right words. Why I spill so many, trying.
But the space between those two sentences is a void. And I spin off into it, as requested, every time, sending smoke signals back. All The Verities of Nothing, A Thorough Study of Emptinesses.
In space, words don't matter as much as grit.
her: well hello
me: it's her candle (cocking my head in Sunshine's direction)
her: she didn't even pray
me: she has no faith left, that seems like a you problem
her: and you're just all good?
me: yup. I'm grateful everybody is still breathing, that's all. everybody who is still breathing. say hi to my dad 😪 if that's allowed.
her: your dad, wow
me: hahahaha I'll bet, it's almost scary to imagine him with wings now on top of everything else, I'm sure he's workin' it
her: he stays awful close to you...and you know it, and you armed him
me: yes. and yes, I did. both my parents love me a LOT, even though they did it in batshit ways I am very grateful, but my dad....
her: loves you most, maybe loves you only
me: yes 😪, and for my sister and mother, well (siiiiiiiigh), but it doesn't matter anymore, there's no point arguing with angels. my dad was an excellent hunter, I trusted him to make the shot if a shot needed to be made
her: that logic makes sense only in this one particular. generally, I see a lot of same same same, but not too often do I see a woman asking to be shot by her dead father for the sake of her lover who isn't her lover
me: yea hahahaha welp I feel like at this point I really just need to accept and lean in to the whatever - you can see everything so look behind my eyes, what do you see there?
her: I see only a candle flame
me: yep.
Then I stood up and strode back through the church the same way I came in, stomping, the noise of my boots on marble ringing off the walls, all eyes watching me but I did.not.give.a.fuck, I liked the way it sounded and stomped harder, dragging Sunshine and her tears out of there, back to the living by her hair, stomping down the street with my skirt whipping around me in the cold, her squealing ok ok slow down...
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Today's quick fix only really works if it makes sense for tomorrow, too. You're looking ahead to make your future life sweeter. The long line of tomorrows that will be impacted by today's decision are worth heavier consideration.
I dunno what to do with that. #playmeasong
#playmeasonggame aint no love in oklahoma - luke combs welp, there ain't no love in Nebraska either brother
