Let’s Get Down to Business

I’m being a pansy.

I’m not facing my own truth. I’m just wallowing in pain without sifting through it and past it. I’m bored, I chafe. I want something to happen in my life.

Fuck that.

You do you. You change you. It’s not up to my doctors and support network to handle me like a fucking egg until I hatch. Who the hell wants that? Fly, birdie, fly. Find what keeps you alive, as long as you’re not hurting anyone else, I think is what Kate Bornstein said. I’ve never been good at healing my pain with words, personally. I do it, every week, but I’ve got to stretch it, like a muscle, with action. It’s been cramped up small. When I do talk I feel like I’m making excuses. So what works for me is probably rugby and singing, so I’ve got to get on that.. I don’t want to die right now, but I do feel like I’m wasting time.

Plant a tree, you know what I mean? Leave your mark well, don’t just pass through here like a dismal ghost.

Be your own anchor, your own wind.

Most of all? Get. UP.









This is your brain.

This is your brain on drugs.

I want to get out, and through. The fog in my brain leaks out my mouth as I stutter and pause and it shackles my hands behind me. My existence dims as I can’t focus on the here and now. My eyes plead as I hope for someone to hear my soul.

I don’t know whether it was nature or nurture that got me into this. Whatever.

I want to be a nurse, I want to heal with my heart and hands.

I want to travel the country on a motorcycle, with  naught but a backpack and a tent.

I want to come home to a trailer by the sea, with a cat.

I want love, both platonic and otherwise, but right now my plate is empty. I need more color options for my life’s canvas.

I have the words but not the melody.