Resolutions

I talked in group about them tonight. I shuffled around online and found these. They're as good as any I've seen.

But really, most resolutions are bullshit. Not all. Just most. 

Beginning of an essay

The freeways of Southern California, so entangled in the landscape as to almost reach a quality of myth. People place their lives in these concrete-and-metal hands on daily commutes, jaunts, trips to the beach where they lie in the sand and bitch about nothing.

 

I had my favorites: 15 South, 163 South, 52 West to Ardath Road where the path carried drivers toward La Jolla and Prospect Place. And Prospect Place – well, hell. I don’t need to explain that to you.

 

 

By myself

Adam and Baz are headed to LA. The dogs and I are staying behind. They just left. I feel lonely. That's not going to last. I've wanted this time to myself. Now I have it. 

Revising

It really is revisioning. I finished my work on CONFLAGRATION weeks ago and haven't been able to edit the damn thing because I've been going about it in ways that weren't suiting what I want to do with the project. 

Right now I'm just sitting and thinking about it. I think -- I hope -- that will lead the right way.

Today's editing

Danny

Mom died of COVID.

 

Two months now. A vent. Enough wires to scare a small child. Nurse called me: It’s her time. Cried into our cell-phone cameras. FaceTimed her a goodbye. Couldn’t go into Alta Bates. Too risky.

 

Two months on. Standing in line at Café Aquatica. Sits amidst what passes for central Jenner. Seventy-seven-point-one miles north of where she died. Less than two tranquil hours along the winding lane she’ll never again see.

 

Grief is neither linear nor logical. Like most things, it makes no goddamned sense.

 

Need to remember this

 

Having ADHD is trying desperately to make sure nobody misunderstands what you’re trying to say

and yet being misunderstood your whole life because no one has taken the time to try to understand where you’re coming from

— Dani Donovan 👩🏻‍🎨 ADHD Comics (@danidonovan) December 11, 2021

Don McLean, "Empty Chairs"

 I feel a trembling tingle of a sleepless night

Creep through my fingers and the moon is bright
Beams of blue come flickering through my windowpane
Like Gypsy moths that dance around a candle flame

And I wonder if you know
That I never understood
That although you said you'd go
Until you did
I never thought you would

Moonlight used to bathe the contours of your face
While chestnut hair fell all around the pillowcase
And the fragrance of your flowers rest beneath my head
A sympathy bouquet left with a love that's dead

And I wonder if you know
That I never understood
That although you said you'd go
Until you did
I never thought you would

Never thought the words you said were true
Never thought you said just what you meant
Never knew how much I needed you
Never thought you'd leave, until you went

Morning comes and morning goes with no regret
The evening brings the memories I can't forget
Empty rooms that echo as I climb the stairs
And empty clothes that drape and fall on empty chairs

And I wonder if you know
That I never understood
That although you said you'd go
Until you did
I never thought you would

Official announcement

 

Seasonal depression

I've been struggling. Nothing feels right. Nothing feels like it fits. I'm restless and exhausted at the same time. Jesus Christ, are the holidays done?