Break

[written on 11-21-08, 1:27am]

I have a bed I visit, on the third floor of the store, on crowded Saturday afternoons and empty Tuesday nights when the tears feel too familiar. Wrought iron cottage style frame, red patchwork quilt, sheets with crocheted ends, folded over to let the deep red fleece catch a breath of fresh air. Standing in front of the bed, my bed... I can see myself...

-- I am lying in it, high above the ocean below, waves crashing against the jagged gray rocks. I can smell the sea air, taste the salt, feel the spray. A chilly afternoon in mid-October, in my bed, between the glossy floorboards and rugged dark beams holding up the high ceilings. Cozy under the patchwork quilt, the only softness among the hardwood floors and towering ceiling. Centered in the vast open and empty space, devoid of daily clutter and tumbling thoughts. Light from the clouds, room to breathe, the crashing waves, sweet solitaire moments --

Standing in front of the bed, my bed, I effortlessly find myself lost in the future moments of calm and understanding. I have a bed I visit, on the third floor, on crowded Saturday afternoons and empty Tuesday nights.

Emile Zola

"i came to live out loud." written in bold next to bright colors splashed across the front. i pack, unpack, display, each time i move, over the years. a greeting card i keep. for myself. "i came to live out loud." it says. i am not loud. i am an introvert. i am an infj. this means i am quiet. and complicated. but i intend to live my life out loud. not with the loudest voice, screaming, screeching, bursting, demanding attention. yours and yours and yours. but i will express who i am. find my voice. to share. perhaps quietly, but still out loud. not kept to myself. living always means changing, growing, encompassing, pruning and blooming. life's circles. "live out loud." change out loud. grow out loud. even when i don't know. even when i am scared. but i am here. and here. so "if you asked me what i came into this world to do, i will tell you: i came to live out loud."

Iced Coffee

i got an iced coffee at dunkin' donuts today. i got an iced coffee at dunkin' donuts today, because:
- it was in the mid 60s in december. (december average here is usually 25.)
- i can fiinnaallyy pay my bills and not think twice about buying a coffee.
- immediately following my purchase i had to convince my advisor (and whomever else) that i do have enough credits to graduate in may, once again pioneering my way through what I thought was a well established program. (wrong.)
- i am stressed out over inconsequential work "details" that are not part of my job description.
- i have to attend a prestigious, all day event tomorrow and put on a smile for too many high profile people that have come to know me as cool, calm and collected, when all i really want to do is sing "i've got a lovely bunch of coconuts" in falsetto while standing on my bed.
- it's almost finals time. i'm not sleeping much. i'm listening to modest mouse and the killers, pretending it is '03 and '04 when i liked finals, didn't worry about grades, loved my classes, and didn't have to concern myself with enduring anything else during finals.
- i'm trying to find a job that will launch a career in may. enough said.
- i'm worth the chance. i am worth the risk. i'm not apologetic that i do not come with a light-up billboard. it's not my style. i am worth investing in.
- i haven't gone grocery shopping since before thanksgiving. i have entirely given up on cooking. my meals are once again from whole foods' buffet supplemented by random items from my bare cupboards. i know i have to go soon - i am actually dreading it.
- i haven't cleaned my bathroom as recently as i would like. i share a bathroom with a boy. enough said.
- i know i am not the only twentysomething with these reasons.
- i know i am not the only one who got an iced coffee on this december summer day.
- sometimes the only thing left to do is get a coffee.

Goosebumps

[9/4/07]

Goosebumps tickle,
a hollow stomach cavern forms,
from resistance to shivers,
traveling up and down and out,
head to toe.

Air conditioned dark space wide open almost empty,
and too cold for late August.
Thunder claps outside, and he sees a flash,
but rest assured, it's not lightning.
I am - lightening.

My heaviness evaporates and rises;
I would follow it up,
into the bright lights,
but shivers hold me to the floor.

Rock to the guitar's rhyme,
three melodic voices,
and an out of place "shaker."
From Cuba?
Cold shivers and music's tingle combine,
inseparable.

An arm around my shoulders -
warmth to the left, warmth to the right.
Familiar friends -
it has been too long,
a new tune in an old soothing voice,
highlights of new sweetness,
sugary touches of chorus.

The old and the new,
sweet combination of warmth and chill.
Lightning outside.
Lightning inside.