Peace, quiet and alone-ness. Oh I have that in abundance. I sit here wishing my cat, the one and only other creature I share my residence with, would sit with me and give me something other than attitude and sarcastic screeching....but she's rejected me, yet again. I have that affect on other creatures it seems. Oh, the spiders hunt me down to taunt me and heckle me though.
My move. Ahh yes... my newly acquired spatial freedom from a discontented love. I find myself second-guessing this scenario. The silence isn't golden, it's maddening and deafening and depressing and black. I'm trying to find serenity and tranquility, but I seem to only have found a need to restock my kleenex inventory and to buy an ashtray. That nasty habit I so .... thought successfully.... kicked over 2 years ago has provided the crutch I seem to need to lean on. I have the strength of an overcooked rice noodle and the willpower of a kid in a candy store and a lack of concern for my health and welfare at this point in time. I'm listening to the constant growling in my stomach and am not the least bit interested in eating anything other than a few pistachios which happened to yell at me the other day in the grocery store. Yell, they jumped up from the shelf and catapulted themselves right into my cart without my even noticing until I was way over at the dairy section. Gotta get cream for my coffee. What's coffee without it? Okay, so you may not like it that way, but hell, this is my blog and I like cream in my coffee. Milk just won't do. At the rate I'm going, this is my shot of dairy for the day.
Oh yea, back to my solitudely silence. New word there, like it? With my new best friend,
Mr. K. Leenex, we are spending many nights here at my new abode. It's lovely that he's always around when I need him. Follows me around from room to room. Sits with me on the most uncomfortable sofa bed ever constructed and joins me for hours at a time while I sit, leaking salt water, gushing salt water, oh so quietly so the upstairs neighbours aren't bothered by my stifled sobs. I'm so glad I at least have him for company. My cat couldn't care less about me.
I've lost interest in unpacking, organizing and finishing up setting up house. Screw the boxes. They'll wait. They always do. Screw the dirty dishes in the sink that have been there for so long they've invited many friends over for a dry pool party. Heck. Tonight is garbage night. I have nothing to put out.....oh no, wait a minute....last night was garbage night. I still have nothing to put out. Recycle night tonight. I have a blue box full of crumpled up, black streaked, little white squares of post-consumer tissue though. I'm miserable and lonely and oh gee...ya think... depressed? My gawd. I now there are hundreds of thousands of people on this planet who have it so much worse off than I do. For heaven sakes...they don't even have computers to blog on about their troubles. What could I possibly have to be sad and depressed about? How could my life suck that much that I need this little pity party and stock in the facial tissue company? Oh I don't know....maybe because I'm failing in so many aspects and feel like I've fallen and don't know how to get up, let alone to get up. I grew up wishing I could be a bank robber, or a car thief, or better yet, how about a psychopathic homicidal maniac? Alright, perhaps I'm exaggerating slightly there. Actually, I wanted to dig up dinosaur bones, but didn't dig up good enough grades or the discipline and determination to excel in school, so I ended up finishing high school, barely, with disappointing grades and a desire to lounge around in the sun like my neighbour down the road, all slathered up in baby oil and frying to a nice golden brown.
Now I'm in my 40's. Alone. In a go nowhere position, with no financial future, and no George Clooney knocking on my door for company. Hell, I don't even have the baby oil any longer. But I have lots of kleenex. For now. What happens when he's gone as well? He'll get tired of me using him up and tossing him away as well. Seems I'm really good at that. Tossing away. Running and tossing....tossing and running. I had thought I'd only be losing out on material goods with this relocation situation, but I was oh so blindly incorrect. I've lost out on quite a bit more than just that camera I so loved. I've lost out on so much more. I have lost the snoring, but detest the silence I've gained. I've lost the prickly moustache I so wished he would have trimmed down more neatly, but detest the lack of kisses. I've tossed away the conversations and gained sadness and detest the solitary, quiet hours spent watching the clock tick by the hours, waiting for something that isn't going to come. The tender looks. The poetic prose. The cuddly hugs and the splendid foot rubs. I've run and tossed.
I think I may have unfortunately run and tossed away something pretty good. Now I'm at a loss as to what to do next. I miss my man. I miss my life. I miss me. I don't know where I am. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know how I'm going, or how I'm going to get to...... where?
My move. Ahh yes... my newly acquired spatial freedom from a discontented love. I find myself second-guessing this scenario. The silence isn't golden, it's maddening and deafening and depressing and black. I'm trying to find serenity and tranquility, but I seem to only have found a need to restock my kleenex inventory and to buy an ashtray. That nasty habit I so .... thought successfully.... kicked over 2 years ago has provided the crutch I seem to need to lean on. I have the strength of an overcooked rice noodle and the willpower of a kid in a candy store and a lack of concern for my health and welfare at this point in time. I'm listening to the constant growling in my stomach and am not the least bit interested in eating anything other than a few pistachios which happened to yell at me the other day in the grocery store. Yell, they jumped up from the shelf and catapulted themselves right into my cart without my even noticing until I was way over at the dairy section. Gotta get cream for my coffee. What's coffee without it? Okay, so you may not like it that way, but hell, this is my blog and I like cream in my coffee. Milk just won't do. At the rate I'm going, this is my shot of dairy for the day.
Oh yea, back to my solitudely silence. New word there, like it? With my new best friend,
Mr. K. Leenex, we are spending many nights here at my new abode. It's lovely that he's always around when I need him. Follows me around from room to room. Sits with me on the most uncomfortable sofa bed ever constructed and joins me for hours at a time while I sit, leaking salt water, gushing salt water, oh so quietly so the upstairs neighbours aren't bothered by my stifled sobs. I'm so glad I at least have him for company. My cat couldn't care less about me.
I've lost interest in unpacking, organizing and finishing up setting up house. Screw the boxes. They'll wait. They always do. Screw the dirty dishes in the sink that have been there for so long they've invited many friends over for a dry pool party. Heck. Tonight is garbage night. I have nothing to put out.....oh no, wait a minute....last night was garbage night. I still have nothing to put out. Recycle night tonight. I have a blue box full of crumpled up, black streaked, little white squares of post-consumer tissue though. I'm miserable and lonely and oh gee...ya think... depressed? My gawd. I now there are hundreds of thousands of people on this planet who have it so much worse off than I do. For heaven sakes...they don't even have computers to blog on about their troubles. What could I possibly have to be sad and depressed about? How could my life suck that much that I need this little pity party and stock in the facial tissue company? Oh I don't know....maybe because I'm failing in so many aspects and feel like I've fallen and don't know how to get up, let alone to get up. I grew up wishing I could be a bank robber, or a car thief, or better yet, how about a psychopathic homicidal maniac? Alright, perhaps I'm exaggerating slightly there. Actually, I wanted to dig up dinosaur bones, but didn't dig up good enough grades or the discipline and determination to excel in school, so I ended up finishing high school, barely, with disappointing grades and a desire to lounge around in the sun like my neighbour down the road, all slathered up in baby oil and frying to a nice golden brown.
Now I'm in my 40's. Alone. In a go nowhere position, with no financial future, and no George Clooney knocking on my door for company. Hell, I don't even have the baby oil any longer. But I have lots of kleenex. For now. What happens when he's gone as well? He'll get tired of me using him up and tossing him away as well. Seems I'm really good at that. Tossing away. Running and tossing....tossing and running. I had thought I'd only be losing out on material goods with this relocation situation, but I was oh so blindly incorrect. I've lost out on quite a bit more than just that camera I so loved. I've lost out on so much more. I have lost the snoring, but detest the silence I've gained. I've lost the prickly moustache I so wished he would have trimmed down more neatly, but detest the lack of kisses. I've tossed away the conversations and gained sadness and detest the solitary, quiet hours spent watching the clock tick by the hours, waiting for something that isn't going to come. The tender looks. The poetic prose. The cuddly hugs and the splendid foot rubs. I've run and tossed.
I think I may have unfortunately run and tossed away something pretty good. Now I'm at a loss as to what to do next. I miss my man. I miss my life. I miss me. I don't know where I am. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know how I'm going, or how I'm going to get to...... where?
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