Wolf Mother

They always say the secret to forgetting is not loving And I am so good at forgetting which means I’m bad at loving But so good at guilting And so good at shoving your hands away And you’re good and raising your hands above your head while I punch you in the gut You’re so good but so terrifying Because you remember everything I don’t Managed to leave me once and turn up against in the lyrics of every song about love I heard while you were off getting drunk or high or trying to forget I didn’t forget anything about you Except your birth date sort of I slide into the scenery like a chameleon Some days when I’m tired I don’t want you to see me But you see me, and I still dedicate songs to you in my head when I’m missing you and wanting to strangle her for having you when I can’t I still say it’s our song even if it’s a song you’ve never heard I still say you’re mine when you’re not But I’m still that chameleon And when I wake up, I’m afraid somebody else might end up being me With their hand inside yours instead of me I don’t want to have hands that don’t touch you Or a brain that forgets you

Please, always be my ghost.

Clarice Lispector, A Breath of Life

lately has been a time of a lot of reflection. a lot of thinking, a lot of retreating into my own brain space, a lot of sitting with myself in a way where I relieve myself of judgment, and it’s been so edifying to my spirit. genuinely. I’ve spent the last several years wrestling with myself, with god, with angels, demons, anything I could fight with it seems and I feel like I’ve finally come to a reprieve. like maybe I’ve finally done what the powers that be, the universe, god, whom or whatever has wanted me to do this whole time. I am so goddamn mean to myself, meaner than anyone outside of me could ever hope to be I think. I think I’m finally figuring out how talk to myself the way I should have been talked to as a child. without so much..harshness I suppose. none of this is to say I’m anywhere near done but god it feels so good to be out of the doldrums. I’ve been in fight/flight/etc survival mode for a very very long time and I think my nervous system is finally calming down to where maybe I can just savour life. My life is so much better than it has ever been despite there being things that I wish were better or slightly different or completely different. I feel like I can rest here a while and do what I need to do while I wait for the chapter I want so badly. I’ve wanted to get out of the city I’m in for several years now and that’s a distinct possibility in the next handful of years and that’s comforting despite the discomfort that comes with all that change. I feel like I’m going to be okay.

Margaret Atwood, from “November”, Selected Poems: 1965-1975