like butterflies

I think splurge is the right word for today. And every now and then indulgence is wonderful.

Did I mention I’m a music geek?

Anna and I went on a music spree and completely disarmed the employees at graywhale with my purchase. We also swung by savers for Anna’s costume of the wenchy mother in law I said I was going to spend money insanely, and I did. I came I saw and I owned.

Positive reinforcement was muchly needed, as anticipated. The day took a different tone once it flowed onto the later hours. Angelo, the operations manager walked out. From what I was told he took off his vest and threw down his manager keys down on the office desk. Walked out and left just like that.

Kara the supervisor was promoted on the spot.

We’re talking about a responsible level headed man here. In the short time I’ve had to get to know him I haven’t known him to act rashly.

It wasn’t much of a surprise. I’ll say this ahead of time I love the people I work with but we have a sneak for a store manager. Something Scott said probably broke the scale. Halloween does get messy but it’s nothing that he couldn’t handle. Scott is slowly collasping the company but this time he’s not even meaning to. I want to know why, and I will.

When Anna and I were discussing costume ideas Angelo brushed past us. I sent out a quick hello. It made me laugh cause he has a hard time recognizing people out of uniform. A quick squint and a pause and then he responded and laughed at himself. Just casual. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Anna and I went on to buy the ugliest moo moo we could find and giggled ourselves to death.

I heard the news a few hours after getting to work. Of course I had to have it repeated twice. Not to say we were close friends or anything like that. He was a good leader though, he kept things in line. He’s not immediately friendly, but he has his own way of connecting with people.

It brought back this general topic. You expect departure to be foreshadowed. You think when people are about to leave you might hear them grumble under their breath every now and then. You hear a rumor which you deny. The person says leaving is a possibility and with a little time they’re gone.

It doesn’t work that way.

No flags are flown. There is no soundtrack in the background leaving you to put two and two together and not come up with five.

I think it’s like that when somebody dies. They just blink out one day and you find out the day or the week after. Truth rushes in on you and you can’t take down the speed. You’re expected to soak it all in.
You think back to the moment when you last saw them. Maybe you called them up to borrow jumper cables and they the only person you could think of. It could have been a meeting, and you forgot to say hello. You pass them on the street and wave casually back.

And then poof.

Makes me want to treat each moment with better care if I don’t know when part seven is almost through. It’s so fleeting.

When I was little I tried to hold still when a butterfly came close. I wanted it to flutter right onto my palm so I could watch the wings as they quivered. Their wings looked to me wispy paper with tiny paints. A slight movement would be enough to startle it. I never wanted to catch them and keep them captive. I just wanted to hold them. They were so fleeting but I still adore the creatures.

And so these little butterflies are like moments, quick to flee but beautiful both in their coming and leaving. They are so beautiful in movement. Time is precious.... I don’t know when one is about to scatter away from me so I hold each one tightly but not too tightly to crack it. My only hope is to help enhance it and help it to live well enough so that I can always recall it back to me when I shut my eyes to this changing world.

Oouff

One of the few Yu Yu Hakusho episodes I've seen was one where a particular opponent's downfall was he couldn't feel pain. If his pain couldn't be registered, he would not be able to distinguish a mortal blow.

I picked up my painting again after a month's negligence. I sat on my legs, keeping my knees and ankles as crooked as can be. A few hours later I got up and ouch. I don't notice discomfort and find comfort when I'm tensed or stretched weird. So as I stood up my knees felt like creaky doorknobs.

Needless to say after four hours of curling and remolding my joints and six hours of standing, my knees are now mashed potatoes.

I haven't enjoyed myself with painting like this for some time now. The process is so time consuming, I'm beginning to see why it took some artists years to finish a portrait.

I was hoping to hit up Graywhale again and get my own paints so that I could return the ones I have. But... Long story short it makes things easier to not have a credit card or bank account, because a certain organization needs records of every financial asset I have. Mommy can't cash it in for me so there goes my Saturday excitement. I need an insentive to pummel the Halloween Havoc everybody wants a costume NOW.

Yes I do want to spend fifty dollars on official bootlegged cds... I don't have no credit card. I don't have no credit.

I need to work on college now. Cancel spring enrollment. Apply to Weber. Hassle up my transcripts out of the highschool. Get my FASFA back in action. REGISTER.
Yes. I'm being a little silly putting it off aren't I?

passing into

One of the things I love most about work is the diversity. Somehow despite our different personalities and ways, we combine so cleanly...

I get along with them not as coworkers but as people. There's Suzie always ready with a friendly smirk. She's been clean for a year and a half. Keisha's little uns are proof that black babies are cuter than anything else. (They even waddle!) Margaret has a way of getting things done assertively without having to maintain that superior kind of air managers send out now and then. Erica's warm like most Southerners and lets me borrow a bit of Tennessee. Kenny's the hidden intellectual who shrugs at college, I don't know how he can stand straight black coffee. I've had coffee twice. I knew it was useless since I knew half of what I was drinking was sweetner, but it depends on it's flavor I guess. Larry's a vetran, for his years in the armed forces, and the company. Brianna, heh, she can make anyone laugh and forever curses Eve for menopause and high heels. Angelo is into blue grass, you can hear him hum while he closes the place.


Working alongside people who make a living out of retail... Some of them get a look in their eyes when I talk about setting off for school. As if I had asked them a question rather than made a statement. There's not a look of regret there, but I think I see a flash of remberance.

I like this environment. Despite the uhhh track record of store 1103. Here I'm viewed as an equal, their aim is not to make people feed their superiority with inferiority.

When October ends I'll have a rough time adjusting back to the flow of things. I've settled into Halloween too well... I won't want to hand in my labcoat for the vest...

Speaking of which I hope I can get a morning shift on Halloween. It would suck to have this perfect of a costume and have to grumble to myself 'all dressed up and no where to go'. I was one of the first ones to request it but I have no guarantee.

Tommorrow (or today if it's like oneish in the morning) I get paid. I'm going to be spending quite a bit of it too. I ration my spending usually but... I'll indulge a little more this time.


It's beginning to feel like autumn once again. I'm pulled outside by the feel of it alone. The colored leaves help to keep me patient for the first snowfall.

Watching from the sidelines

On the Sidelines

Games. Everyone plays them. It’s not in the polite society handbook to display one’s bare intentions. We have to be blinded by tact and particular word choice to advance onto anything else. This isn’t in my territory, I’m usually more empathetic and supportive towards someone than I am convincing. It’s both a curse and a gift. To be able to see so far into a person down to their basic hopes and fears, their instincts and impulses, strengths and insecurities. You know why. You can see their logic, you relate too well.

People think I’m random because I don’t usually format my conversations with subject relativity. I dart from one subject to the next instead of carefully leading them into it. I think I’m spontaneous. I don’t wait for the conversation to tip toe over to my own topics.

I’m glad I can’t read minds. It’s such an eerie power. One doesn’t always think what they mean or feel. Thoughts are infinite everyone has their own codes of thinking. I don’t always think in language. I explore multiple actions even ones I’d never carry out. Despite this everynow and then it would be sooo useful.

*sighs* Even now I’m bound by the chains of propriety, wearing it’s concrete mask. I wish it were more breathable.

I’ve always been a watcher. When I was in the forest I remained completely still so that I could continue to observe the wild life. I’m becoming another tree in this uncharted wilderness, watchful and constant.

I’m watching from a distance, from these velvet roped sidelines. Watching the world spin on it’s unstable axis. Quiet only on the outside.

Yet another area of my life where I’m caught between abstracts, between roles, between circumstance. Insider, Outsider. Either way it still exists. I’m only station agent, well notified. I’m not the engine, I’m not longer an engineer. It seems so short out there in the distance now, a tiny speck of black on that ladder we place on the ground. Only a witness whose seat is reserved.

"Hold onto to nothing as fast as you can"

Not overworrying, it’s more like over thinking. I classify and reclassify. I blink I breathe. I act on such a small scale.

Yes, call me a schizo, Cause Tori Amos is my confidant, cause music is my consolation. I’m not even speaking, there’s only music in response.


To trying too hard-

"Been looking for a savior in these dirty streets, I’ve been looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets, been raising up my hands, drive another nail in, got enough guilt to start my own religion

Why do we
Crucify ourselves
Everyday
Nothing I do is good enough"

To my feelings of wanting to disconnect now and then. For stillness to return to my head for one moment.

"So I ran faster but it caught me here
yes my loyalties turned like my ankle
in the seventh grade
running after Billy, running after the rain.

These precious things let them bleed
Let them wash away these precious things
Let them brake their hold on me"

To melancholy in itself.

"The smart money is all hollow.
The moon is in the street.
The shadow boys are out
breaking all the laws.

You’re east of anything west
and the rain is making speeches
and the rain sounds like a round of applause.

Napoleon is weeping in a cornerless room
his invisible fiancee is in the mirror
The band is going home, it’s raining
hammers, it’s raining nails

It’s true theres nothing left

They all pretend they’re orphans.
And their memory is like a train
You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away
The things you can’t remember...
Tell the things you can’t forget."

To childhood

"and through the walls they made their mudpies
I’ve got your mind I said
she said I got your voice I said
you don’t need my voice girl
you have your own but you never thought it was
enough of. So they went years and years like
sisters. Blanket girls. Always there through this and that
there’s nothing we cannot ever fix I said

Bells and footfalls and soliders and dolls
She and I were now.

Can’t stop what’s coming
Can’t stop what’s on it’s way.

And now I speak to you are you in there you have her hace and her eyes but you are not her and we fot at each other like blank ettes who can’t find their thread and their bare.

Can’t stop loving. Can’t stop what is on its way and I see it coming it’s on it’s way."

She doesn’t give me answers. I’m thinking in questions, she answers in two part harmony.
There are no answers. Only choices that solve and unsolve...

Arriving Renewal

Concentrate. There are voices speaking and speaking your name. This world is lost to you . Relocate, complete another.

Ambition comes then flattens, like ocean waves sloping over the shorelined years. As the sidelines become straighter, I weave another thread between.

Answers spoke out in blank riddles. Each one is solved but most are unused. Each one starves for a turn, a priority, a name. Reaches for renewal.

Continue, another day is brewing early. Remember every arrival, continue.

Fated..?

I’ve been hearing so much talk of the end of all days. Religious doom. Is it abnormal that I feel so naïvely calm? Is it this sudden feeling that everything will be alright when all is said and done?

How do I place ‘God’ , ‘Destroy’ and ‘Wrath’ in the same sentence?

Is it fair or unfair to halt the blossoming generation to be contained, shut down and denied the natural life process? These fruits of youth ripen from experience and time. Old age is not inhibiting in my mind. Knowledge can be gained, yes, but it’s worth must be learned to be treasured. You become aware of your mortality and the continuation of life then on a new level in that setting stage in your life. You not only understand but feel and experience. I still hold this, which I heard somewhere that with the weakening of the body comes the strengthening of the mind. Limitations are recognized, you are permitted a deeper pondering of your life to come when your life here ends with new awe. Know your limits and learn that you are not limited... Specific life stages have different flexibilities and options, this age does have it’s offerings. Oddly, I do sometimes look forward to my old age. I imagine myself silver haired, withered and sweetly worn with a long legacy to look back on, loving the bronzing sun as it sets majestically as I’ll look skyward. This generation and society fears aging and takes dangerous measures such as slicing open outward identity, stripping away and slicing up the face so that the wounds will slide into a generic acceptable appearance. All in a lust for an unattainable and unfulfilling fountain of youth. I have no reason to flee it, I will take every year I can if I know I have something more to add to learn to be. There is a responsibility to push to the end, to continue, and to grow.

Gods would be a different agenda. And our lives down here are so small and fleeting. Temporal always gives way to another permanence in the end.

When a door closes, another opens. When something ends something new begins. I hardly see the creation and destruction’s symbiotic relationship as dark and cynical as I discussed have previously discussed with one of you, but could not accurately explain then with all my thoughts unclothed and without words... I touch the pen against the page, tainting it’s perfected pristine color with lines and curves of ink. The softness and flexibility of clay is taken away when it is fired, but it becomes easier to keep if it is firm. A mother gives birth and the life she knew before ends transforms into something new because she now has another life to guide other than her own. Circumstance demands and simultaneously rejects. It is what change is.

Hmm.

I sit here complacently, moving with faith that with my ownership of my own soul I am bound for larger things and focused circumstance. Such a weird calm really, so come what may.

Fate itself is such a tantalizing subject So do I believe in predestination or independent destinies ? To think of my life as a bland calculation without choice, chance, or change is so listless and cold. Or maybe I could see it as a masterplan individualized for me?

I definitely lean more towards the liberty to decide. Maybe there is a very small number, say five destinies available that can be met through numberless branches of paths we can take. Like separate variables and values that arranged in several combinations can only have five outcomes (or five to keep this in measure.)

Choose your adventure books have six or more endings but around eleven or so beginnings... I really do believe that we are capable of as much good as we are bad. Could it be like this? That souls are natural magnets whose polarities are aligned with select fates? I would like to believe in destiny in a smaller degree.