vertigo.

 my psyche spent the day yesterday slowly getting the best of me, so by the time the sun fell, i was in the dead middle of a full blown internal dialogue. both sides at definite odds a definite tomb where no parts between me were going to be solved so easily. 

it is times like these when i call my mom. but she was dragging big bags of dead leaves around and cursing and red in the face and was not much help. so i talked to my dad. but he thought it was summer time and that i am on vacation, laying around in the sun, being bored. then i tried to talk to ian, but he was looking at ducati motorcycle parts all night. so the fight with myself commenced.

and even in dreams these things do not go so well. dreams can make the world even worse and last nights were no exception. so this morning i woke up early to do yoga and run and register for a 100 mile bike race a month from now. i need structure and simplicity. i need the world to fall back sometimes so i can focus on what is in front of me and attempt to forget what is behind. but there are those nagging ghosts. those nagging feelings and the older i get the more bland and black they feel. and i cannot tell if that is the truth or not.

it is not like i am bent on the destruction of things or the decomposition of things. if so, i would not spend my mornings off studying and experimenting with vegan recipes. it is more of the psychic than the actual. it is more like this constant relevant actuality that everyone around me is on his/her own wave, or at least this is what i use to think, but all those waves are on the same shore. they are all crashing into the same thing with their weddings and babies and glowing bright eyed rings winking from their fingers. and i do not want those waves even though i can hear them all crashing into shore.

 when i was a teenager, i assumed i would grow out of this thinking. that all my destructive hell bent boyfriends were just actualized parts of ideas i wanted to explore. it is like standing under a very bright spotlight in a room that looks completely white but then there is that sound-- that absolute closing of the door, turning the light off, that sound i heard when i was a projectionist at 16-- and all the white lights shift into shadows and the room is a big black box. no bright thing at all. 

so i go to the beach. my hair is dirty and i listen to punk rock bands and bowie on my head phones and thinking about johnny thunders makes me sad and thinking about richard hell makes me sad and thinking about if people know you differently when youre dead makes me sad and thinking about the idea of a great love makes me sad and at least at the beach the waves are really there. the waves are actual parts of the world coming into port. and i can forget about the songs that go along with all of that.


it is that sick sad dumb prufrock feeling. enough vertigo to make me nausous. i would rather be the mermaid than hear the mermaid sing.