This newly updated peculiar action offers strange new lust morsels from Kelly Boyker, Emily Smith-Miller, Cheryl Anne Gardner, John Tustin, and Daniel G. Snethen – with two older morsels still remaining from PoetJoe H. Gallagher and David Greenspan.
Enjoy the creepy/sexy vibe if you dare.
Here's an odd little snippet fusing odd little snippets from each new poet included within the new Myna Birds fold.
ruffled duvets - dancing darkly on her string - dark veil over her eyes - nipples pressed hard against the plastic - waiting for your heart, creeping - shaving down the bone - glows as a pink star - small fires licking the floorboards - Will my eyes turn red?
Happy artsy yummy poetic New Year!
http://13myna.blogspot.com/
12/28/11
EMPTY BLACK HOLES
Another creepy dream from which I couldn’t awaken myself took place on Xmas.
I’d had a headache for most of the day, thus popped more ibuprofen than usual, since I didn’t want to feel too badly to be a part of my families holiday festivities. Heck, despite being prone to weird Xmas overloads to the point of too much stress, I got all my holiday shopping done for both kids and adults; I had even baked a special treat to add to the celebration; AND I had even started calling the day Artmas, in order to have more fun with the whole odd affair and how I might or might not fit into it. My over the top goth necklace and Dahlia eye shadow made me feel pretty creative that day.
Unfortunately though, my headache had gotten so bad by late evening, that as soon as I got back to my house from our families Xmas time celebrations, I had to lie down. Soon I was in the midst of a bad dream from which I attempted to awaken myself and thought I HAD awakened myself, but even though I thought I was awake, I couldn’t seem to open my eyes all the way. I walked up to my bedroom mirror and looked at myself and saw that my eyes were gone; I just had empty black holes.
After realizing I was still asleep, I tried to force myself up AGAIN, thought I had done so AGAIN, but still couldn’t open my eyes all the way, and still felt off kilter, oddly tired, and weirdly zoned out. I tried walking around in my bedroom, forcefully stomping my feet upon the floor to wake myself up better.
After realizing I was STILL asleep and not really walking/stomping, but still trapped shut eyed upon my own bed, I started to feel more stuck and scared; so I started to try calling my parents to help wake me up; but how could I use my phone or make them hear me when I was still in bed with my non-eyes closed?
When I FINALLY managed to wake up (STILL with a slight headache), I found myself wondering if I had possibly consumed too much nutmeg. Then I called my mom who suggested I’ve watched too many horror movies in my life and that’s why this is happening to me now. But my empty black eye holes weren’t even blood red. That might have made the dream more interesting. Instead they were eyeless black holes and I felt scared of being zoned out/trapped/stuck and unable to emerge from that dark mode.
I’d had a headache for most of the day, thus popped more ibuprofen than usual, since I didn’t want to feel too badly to be a part of my families holiday festivities. Heck, despite being prone to weird Xmas overloads to the point of too much stress, I got all my holiday shopping done for both kids and adults; I had even baked a special treat to add to the celebration; AND I had even started calling the day Artmas, in order to have more fun with the whole odd affair and how I might or might not fit into it. My over the top goth necklace and Dahlia eye shadow made me feel pretty creative that day.
Unfortunately though, my headache had gotten so bad by late evening, that as soon as I got back to my house from our families Xmas time celebrations, I had to lie down. Soon I was in the midst of a bad dream from which I attempted to awaken myself and thought I HAD awakened myself, but even though I thought I was awake, I couldn’t seem to open my eyes all the way. I walked up to my bedroom mirror and looked at myself and saw that my eyes were gone; I just had empty black holes.
After realizing I was still asleep, I tried to force myself up AGAIN, thought I had done so AGAIN, but still couldn’t open my eyes all the way, and still felt off kilter, oddly tired, and weirdly zoned out. I tried walking around in my bedroom, forcefully stomping my feet upon the floor to wake myself up better.
After realizing I was STILL asleep and not really walking/stomping, but still trapped shut eyed upon my own bed, I started to feel more stuck and scared; so I started to try calling my parents to help wake me up; but how could I use my phone or make them hear me when I was still in bed with my non-eyes closed?
When I FINALLY managed to wake up (STILL with a slight headache), I found myself wondering if I had possibly consumed too much nutmeg. Then I called my mom who suggested I’ve watched too many horror movies in my life and that’s why this is happening to me now. But my empty black eye holes weren’t even blood red. That might have made the dream more interesting. Instead they were eyeless black holes and I felt scared of being zoned out/trapped/stuck and unable to emerge from that dark mode.
12/27/11
More Creative Post-Xmas/Pre-New Year Poetry Morsels
It can be hard to take the time to stay atop everything during the oddly busy holiday season, but I sure don't want to ignore the sort of stuff that is really important/significant to me, SO...
In addition to the poetry tidbit snippets noted on the post below, here are two more - two recent mini-reviews of my Thirteen Designer Vaginas!
On Reiter's Block (by Jendi Reiter), who calls my Designer V's "Punning, darkly playful, experimental poems". Read more here: http://jendireiter.com/2011/12/15/reiters-block-year-in-review-part-1-best-poetry.aspx?ref=rssm
On Little Myths (by Daniel Shapiro), as part of his post called Thoughts on "success," plus Favorite Books I've Read in 2011, who calls my Designer V's "fun and creepy, sometimes at the same time". Read more here: http://littlemyths-dms.blogspot.com/2011/12/thoughts-on-success-plus-favorite-books.html?spref=fb
Then buy a Designer Vagina for yourself here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/77241391/thirteen-designer-vaginas-by-juliet-cook
Or here:http://hyacinthgirlpress.com/purchase/
In addition to the poetry tidbit snippets noted on the post below, here are two more - two recent mini-reviews of my Thirteen Designer Vaginas!
On Reiter's Block (by Jendi Reiter), who calls my Designer V's "Punning, darkly playful, experimental poems". Read more here: http://jendireiter.com/2011/12/15/reiters-block-year-in-review-part-1-best-poetry.aspx?ref=rssm
On Little Myths (by Daniel Shapiro), as part of his post called Thoughts on "success," plus Favorite Books I've Read in 2011, who calls my Designer V's "fun and creepy, sometimes at the same time". Read more here: http://littlemyths-dms.blogspot.com/2011/12/thoughts-on-success-plus-favorite-books.html?spref=fb
Then buy a Designer Vagina for yourself here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/77241391/thirteen-designer-vaginas-by-juliet-cook
Or here:http://hyacinthgirlpress.com/purchase/
12/24/11
Merry Creative Xmas with Poetry Morsels
Morsel #1 - On the newly updated Galatea Resurrects appears my new review of the poetry book 'Compendium' by Kristina Marie Darling:
http://galatearesurrection17.blogspot.com/2011/12/compendium-by-kristina-marie-darling.html
*
Morsel #2 - Is this small delicious new note upon Karen the Small Press Librarian's blog, offering a mini-threesome of reading recommendations by me - PLUS some wonderful comments by Karen about my newest poetry chapbook, Thirteen Designer Vaginas/published by Hyacinth Girl Press AND the latest Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel by Margaret Bashaar.
http://karenslibraryblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/best-of-small-press-2011-day-72.html
*
Merry Creative Xmas!
Snip, snip, pivot on oiled button mums.
XOXO. Juliet
http://galatearesurrection17.blogspot.com/2011/12/compendium-by-kristina-marie-darling.html
*
Morsel #2 - Is this small delicious new note upon Karen the Small Press Librarian's blog, offering a mini-threesome of reading recommendations by me - PLUS some wonderful comments by Karen about my newest poetry chapbook, Thirteen Designer Vaginas/published by Hyacinth Girl Press AND the latest Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel by Margaret Bashaar.
http://karenslibraryblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/best-of-small-press-2011-day-72.html
*
Merry Creative Xmas!
Snip, snip, pivot on oiled button mums.
XOXO. Juliet
12/22/11
12/21/11
Happy Solstice! - With New Letters From Room 27 Review, New Pushcart Prize Nomination, & Socks!
A new review of the Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, Letters From Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel by Margaret Bashaar now appears within Arsenic Lobster; thank you to Susan Yount.
(I was also utterly delighted by this little snip of the review, which calls me a poetic sock connoisseur; hee hee! "The chap is hand sewn by the gifted poet, editor and sock connoisseur, Juliet Cook. This is how you’ll know you’re reading love letters.")
Read the review here:
http://arseniclobster.magere.com/1review.html
After reading the review, if you would like to partake of the whole collection of the Letters, it can be purchased in its entirety, within my Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here:
http://www.etsy.com/listing/80737587/letters-from-room-27-of-the-grand-midway
Furthermore, in addition to creating this wonderful review, Arsenic Lobster has also nominated me for a Pushcart Prize! Click the link below to find out more about that:
http://arseniclobster.magere.com/1pushcart.html
Razzle dazzle slurptastic happy solstice!
(I was also utterly delighted by this little snip of the review, which calls me a poetic sock connoisseur; hee hee! "The chap is hand sewn by the gifted poet, editor and sock connoisseur, Juliet Cook. This is how you’ll know you’re reading love letters.")
Read the review here:
http://arseniclobster.magere.com/1review.html
After reading the review, if you would like to partake of the whole collection of the Letters, it can be purchased in its entirety, within my Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here:
http://www.etsy.com/listing/80737587/letters-from-room-27-of-the-grand-midway
Furthermore, in addition to creating this wonderful review, Arsenic Lobster has also nominated me for a Pushcart Prize! Click the link below to find out more about that:
http://arseniclobster.magere.com/1pushcart.html
Razzle dazzle slurptastic happy solstice!
12/20/11
12/17/11
an infusion of xmas pizazz
Envy-Inducing Stocking Stuffers for the Special Lady in Your Life:
http://voices.yahoo.com/envyinducing-stocking-stuffers-4609725.html?cat=46
*
Five Delightful Nontraditional Xmas Celebration Ideas:
http://voices.yahoo.com/five-delightful-nontraditional-xmas-4668423.html?cat=74
http://voices.yahoo.com/envyinducing-stocking-stuffers-4609725.html?cat=46
*
Five Delightful Nontraditional Xmas Celebration Ideas:
http://voices.yahoo.com/five-delightful-nontraditional-xmas-4668423.html?cat=74
12/11/11
Pre-Xmas Jitters and Pre-New Year Nervewracks
December 12, 2011 (edited/revised this again, toned it down a little bit & shortened it, removed some overly worried bits & some stuff related to others)
Maybe Christmas should be a fun/good time, but this year it seems to be exemplifying my obsessive compulsiveness, imperfections, and feeling alone. I’ve completed my holiday shopping already, but now am feeling worried that maybe nobody will like what I chose for them. I’m in the midst of working on holiday cards and feeling similarly awkward about that too. Who do I send them to?
I love and appreciate my family, but I also have some uncomfortable feelings about family holiday time. It will probably be my mom & dad and their four daughters and me by myself – my sister A. with her husband and three kids and me by myself – my sister J. with her husband and three kids and me by myself – my sister N. with her partner and kid and me by myself. Me by myself, me by myself, me by myself – sitting there quietly and feeling like a worthless anti-social unwanted mess.
Mind you, just because part of me feels uncomfortable spending time with my family when I’m by myself, that doesn’t mean I don’t like my family. It means I don’t feel very comfortable being by myself in a crowd, in which I very well might be the only one who doesn’t have my own partner. I know that some people are perfectly fine with that; are quite comfortable about being alone in a crowd - and part of me wishes I was that type of person, but I am not. I much prefer one on one time or very small groups that involve personal conversation. I do not like being by myself in part of a group with nobody talking much to me personally. I feel like I’m just part of a weird ceiling fan or a boring table chair, just sitting there silently, like a piece of furniture without unique or interesting brain waves. Yes I’m still part of the group; but not a very exciting individual part – more like a random blob; a globular mishap.
On a semi-related note, in recent years, I’ve received a number of comments from my mom suggesting that I spend too much time online – AND in recent months, I’ve received a number of comments from her suggesting that I’ve had more social activity than ever in the last couple years of my life. Well I do spend a lot of time on my computer; some of it writing related; not online – although I also do spend more time online than the average person. More social activity in recent years is true also. However, much of that activity has taken place outside of my own state – or having people from other areas temporarily visit my space. I am not complaining about that or saying it is a bad thing; but part of what I AM saying/asking is how does my mom think I’ve met and gotten to know most of those friends of mine? I’ve met most of them online.
My mom has suggested I spend too much time online, share too much information online, and take too many risks along those lines – and yes, that is also true to a certain extent – every once in a while, I’ve made a regrettable mistake, starting to get to know the wrong kind of person. However, I sure don’t regret getting to know quite a few wonderful people and poets more personally by reading/writing to each other online.
There’s also the question of how else would I get to know people otherwise? I’m not saying I’m going out of my way to meet people online, because I’m definitely not at this point in time – but that is still a valid question. I don’t drive plus I live in a smallish town. I quite like and appreciate my personal space and I also like spending a significant amount of time by myself. But if I’m having a sad, lonely feeling spell, during which I might like to get out of my space for a bit and do something different and hang out with someone and socialize, unless I happen to have a friend visiting me from out of town, then who do I have to hang out with? Pretty much the only people I know who live in my neck of the woods are my mom & dad and one of my sisters. I certainly like them, but they have their own lifestyles to deal with. Aside from them, I do not have a single close friend that lives in this area.
Even though I was unpopular in high school, since I’m now back to living in that area it has crossed my mind many times to maybe attend one of the alumni special events that seem to be organized quite a bit; it might or might not be my cup of tea, but at this point I might be willing to give it a try. However, not only would I have to attend by myself; I’d also have to be dropped off and picked up by my mom or dad or sister, which might interfere with their own schedules AND would most likely make me feel rather weird and/or embarrassed.
So back to meeting or not meeting people online, how the heck else could I meet someone in this area? At the grocery store or some other regular public place? I don’t think so.
I don’t casually chat or socialize well in random large group settings (nor do I desire to do so); I also don’t feel very comfortable going places by myself. If there were poetry reading events in this area, that would probably be one sort of situation that I would feel comfortable attending and sitting by myself for; if I could GET there by myself (because I would be sitting and paying attention to someone read/perform/express; rather than sitting alone and awkward in a place where other people are in groups and I’m probably looking anti-social or stuck up or something). Aside from that, maybe I’m failing to think of something that I ought to be able to think of, but I cannot quickly/easily think of any type of setting or event in this area that I could do by myself/easily get to & from by myself/ and interact with some new people I might be interested in and vice versa.
Part of me thinks that my family members probably PREFER me being by myself, because maybe they don’t like my taste in partners and various sociable risks I might make; maybe they would like me to feel like I’m BETTER by myself; but how would any of them feel being by themselves at this point in their lives? If someone like my mom tells me she would be fine with that, I don’t really believe her – not because I think she’s a liar, but because she has been with her partner since they were in high school, so how would she KNOW?
Also, I tend to be better at expressing myself in writing as opposed to in person, which is another significant reason why I really like communicating with people online to get to know them better and find out how we vibe; how we might connect with each other or not. Does that have some possible risk factors? Yes but a lot of things do. Besides, does anyone in my family really want to read any of my longer writings, whether they are poetic, artsy, neurotic, or rather negative like this piece? Probably not. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with my family members because of that; what I’m saying is I desire someone to hear/read/be interested in and/or relate to my over-the-top expressions – so I will write and write and write and hope that someone is. Heck, even when I was a married woman, I talked to a lot of friends online then too. I wasn’t making in-person plans with other people at that time, since I had a partner - but since my partner was not into poetry, I got into doing most of my poetry stuff online.
About poetry activity, I am quite happy that I’ve actually been able to attend and participate in quite a few poetry readings (and related creative events) in recent years - but none of those events took place in this neck of the woods plus I don’t have any family members/friends here who would be very interested in attending one with me – so unless I am out of town or have a friend visiting me from out of town, pretty much all of my poetry connections and interactions are still going to take place online.
Not that this is anyone’s fault (except for my own) or that I am upset at anyone (except for myself) about this next tidbit, but I did feel rather upset that a close friend of mine had a poetry reading this past Friday evening and I couldn’t attend. He attended my last poetry reading in Pittsburgh in October, which was about two hours away from him. His reading Friday night was about two hours away from me, but I can’t drive and don’t have any poetry friends in my area, so... I’m not making a huge deal out of that, but it certainly did cross my mind and make me feel badly.
On the plus side, the day after that, one thing that always makes me feel better is when a literary magazine accepts a few of my poems – and yesterday one of my own poems AND one collaborative piece by him & me were accepted and shall soon be published within Lingerpost. I got quite excited about that yesterday, but then today the negative part of my brain started thinking that I might be more excited about that then he is; that I probably tend to get more excited (AND more upset) about little things than most people do and who really cares and what is the point and blah blah blah. (Still though, at least it significantly improved my mood for a few hours).
Overall, I wish I felt more confident about myself and what was going on in my life, but I don’t – and that is another reason I am feeling rather uncomfortable about Christmas – because it’s close to the New Year and the New Year makes me even more nervous. I do not crave another year of not knowing what is going on with my life or what I want or what I should focus on. January will equal TWO years since my stroke, one year since my divorce, and at least the second year of not knowing what I want, what I need, who I am, if I am good enough for anyone, or if I am good enough for myself. I feel like I’m NOT good enough. Yes, in the last few years, I’ve made some significant progress in terms of getting words back (but my reading and writing is STILL much slower than it used to be – and my brain waves are still a weird fusion of weak and over-the-top bizarre froth), but I sure haven’t made very significant progress in terms of positivity, self-empowerment or anything like that.
I know I must work harder on re-evaluating and positive-izing myself pretty darn soon here, but at the moment, part of me feels like staying in bed for the rest of December. I am very uncomfortable with Christmas and the upcoming New Year (and having no clue what that new year holds) and not feeling at all confident about who I am or what I have to offer anyone or what I mean to anyone else – or what my life even means to me.
I need to get back to work focusing harder on reading and writing and poetry again - and also start focusing on figuring some more stuff out.
***
I felt significantly better after speaking on the phone with my scrumptious poet man friend last night; he told me that the two of us would spend the beginning of the New Year together in one way or another; I really do think/feel that will make it so much better.
Maybe Christmas should be a fun/good time, but this year it seems to be exemplifying my obsessive compulsiveness, imperfections, and feeling alone. I’ve completed my holiday shopping already, but now am feeling worried that maybe nobody will like what I chose for them. I’m in the midst of working on holiday cards and feeling similarly awkward about that too. Who do I send them to?
I love and appreciate my family, but I also have some uncomfortable feelings about family holiday time. It will probably be my mom & dad and their four daughters and me by myself – my sister A. with her husband and three kids and me by myself – my sister J. with her husband and three kids and me by myself – my sister N. with her partner and kid and me by myself. Me by myself, me by myself, me by myself – sitting there quietly and feeling like a worthless anti-social unwanted mess.
Mind you, just because part of me feels uncomfortable spending time with my family when I’m by myself, that doesn’t mean I don’t like my family. It means I don’t feel very comfortable being by myself in a crowd, in which I very well might be the only one who doesn’t have my own partner. I know that some people are perfectly fine with that; are quite comfortable about being alone in a crowd - and part of me wishes I was that type of person, but I am not. I much prefer one on one time or very small groups that involve personal conversation. I do not like being by myself in part of a group with nobody talking much to me personally. I feel like I’m just part of a weird ceiling fan or a boring table chair, just sitting there silently, like a piece of furniture without unique or interesting brain waves. Yes I’m still part of the group; but not a very exciting individual part – more like a random blob; a globular mishap.
On a semi-related note, in recent years, I’ve received a number of comments from my mom suggesting that I spend too much time online – AND in recent months, I’ve received a number of comments from her suggesting that I’ve had more social activity than ever in the last couple years of my life. Well I do spend a lot of time on my computer; some of it writing related; not online – although I also do spend more time online than the average person. More social activity in recent years is true also. However, much of that activity has taken place outside of my own state – or having people from other areas temporarily visit my space. I am not complaining about that or saying it is a bad thing; but part of what I AM saying/asking is how does my mom think I’ve met and gotten to know most of those friends of mine? I’ve met most of them online.
My mom has suggested I spend too much time online, share too much information online, and take too many risks along those lines – and yes, that is also true to a certain extent – every once in a while, I’ve made a regrettable mistake, starting to get to know the wrong kind of person. However, I sure don’t regret getting to know quite a few wonderful people and poets more personally by reading/writing to each other online.
There’s also the question of how else would I get to know people otherwise? I’m not saying I’m going out of my way to meet people online, because I’m definitely not at this point in time – but that is still a valid question. I don’t drive plus I live in a smallish town. I quite like and appreciate my personal space and I also like spending a significant amount of time by myself. But if I’m having a sad, lonely feeling spell, during which I might like to get out of my space for a bit and do something different and hang out with someone and socialize, unless I happen to have a friend visiting me from out of town, then who do I have to hang out with? Pretty much the only people I know who live in my neck of the woods are my mom & dad and one of my sisters. I certainly like them, but they have their own lifestyles to deal with. Aside from them, I do not have a single close friend that lives in this area.
Even though I was unpopular in high school, since I’m now back to living in that area it has crossed my mind many times to maybe attend one of the alumni special events that seem to be organized quite a bit; it might or might not be my cup of tea, but at this point I might be willing to give it a try. However, not only would I have to attend by myself; I’d also have to be dropped off and picked up by my mom or dad or sister, which might interfere with their own schedules AND would most likely make me feel rather weird and/or embarrassed.
So back to meeting or not meeting people online, how the heck else could I meet someone in this area? At the grocery store or some other regular public place? I don’t think so.
I don’t casually chat or socialize well in random large group settings (nor do I desire to do so); I also don’t feel very comfortable going places by myself. If there were poetry reading events in this area, that would probably be one sort of situation that I would feel comfortable attending and sitting by myself for; if I could GET there by myself (because I would be sitting and paying attention to someone read/perform/express; rather than sitting alone and awkward in a place where other people are in groups and I’m probably looking anti-social or stuck up or something). Aside from that, maybe I’m failing to think of something that I ought to be able to think of, but I cannot quickly/easily think of any type of setting or event in this area that I could do by myself/easily get to & from by myself/ and interact with some new people I might be interested in and vice versa.
Part of me thinks that my family members probably PREFER me being by myself, because maybe they don’t like my taste in partners and various sociable risks I might make; maybe they would like me to feel like I’m BETTER by myself; but how would any of them feel being by themselves at this point in their lives? If someone like my mom tells me she would be fine with that, I don’t really believe her – not because I think she’s a liar, but because she has been with her partner since they were in high school, so how would she KNOW?
Also, I tend to be better at expressing myself in writing as opposed to in person, which is another significant reason why I really like communicating with people online to get to know them better and find out how we vibe; how we might connect with each other or not. Does that have some possible risk factors? Yes but a lot of things do. Besides, does anyone in my family really want to read any of my longer writings, whether they are poetic, artsy, neurotic, or rather negative like this piece? Probably not. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with my family members because of that; what I’m saying is I desire someone to hear/read/be interested in and/or relate to my over-the-top expressions – so I will write and write and write and hope that someone is. Heck, even when I was a married woman, I talked to a lot of friends online then too. I wasn’t making in-person plans with other people at that time, since I had a partner - but since my partner was not into poetry, I got into doing most of my poetry stuff online.
About poetry activity, I am quite happy that I’ve actually been able to attend and participate in quite a few poetry readings (and related creative events) in recent years - but none of those events took place in this neck of the woods plus I don’t have any family members/friends here who would be very interested in attending one with me – so unless I am out of town or have a friend visiting me from out of town, pretty much all of my poetry connections and interactions are still going to take place online.
Not that this is anyone’s fault (except for my own) or that I am upset at anyone (except for myself) about this next tidbit, but I did feel rather upset that a close friend of mine had a poetry reading this past Friday evening and I couldn’t attend. He attended my last poetry reading in Pittsburgh in October, which was about two hours away from him. His reading Friday night was about two hours away from me, but I can’t drive and don’t have any poetry friends in my area, so... I’m not making a huge deal out of that, but it certainly did cross my mind and make me feel badly.
On the plus side, the day after that, one thing that always makes me feel better is when a literary magazine accepts a few of my poems – and yesterday one of my own poems AND one collaborative piece by him & me were accepted and shall soon be published within Lingerpost. I got quite excited about that yesterday, but then today the negative part of my brain started thinking that I might be more excited about that then he is; that I probably tend to get more excited (AND more upset) about little things than most people do and who really cares and what is the point and blah blah blah. (Still though, at least it significantly improved my mood for a few hours).
Overall, I wish I felt more confident about myself and what was going on in my life, but I don’t – and that is another reason I am feeling rather uncomfortable about Christmas – because it’s close to the New Year and the New Year makes me even more nervous. I do not crave another year of not knowing what is going on with my life or what I want or what I should focus on. January will equal TWO years since my stroke, one year since my divorce, and at least the second year of not knowing what I want, what I need, who I am, if I am good enough for anyone, or if I am good enough for myself. I feel like I’m NOT good enough. Yes, in the last few years, I’ve made some significant progress in terms of getting words back (but my reading and writing is STILL much slower than it used to be – and my brain waves are still a weird fusion of weak and over-the-top bizarre froth), but I sure haven’t made very significant progress in terms of positivity, self-empowerment or anything like that.
I know I must work harder on re-evaluating and positive-izing myself pretty darn soon here, but at the moment, part of me feels like staying in bed for the rest of December. I am very uncomfortable with Christmas and the upcoming New Year (and having no clue what that new year holds) and not feeling at all confident about who I am or what I have to offer anyone or what I mean to anyone else – or what my life even means to me.
I need to get back to work focusing harder on reading and writing and poetry again - and also start focusing on figuring some more stuff out.
***
I felt significantly better after speaking on the phone with my scrumptious poet man friend last night; he told me that the two of us would spend the beginning of the New Year together in one way or another; I really do think/feel that will make it so much better.
12/2/11
NEW DREAM SEQUENCE – Death & Glimmering Glitter
When I was younger, I used to wish I looked more pale and ghostly.
Now I don't want to become a ghost - I'm scared of falling asleep -
of falling into dreams - of falling down falling down falling down...
***
1. My grandpa called me. I didn’t hear anyone on the phone at first, but part of me knew it was him, even though he never calls me. Then he started to speak in a soft and powerless voice, telling me that he was dying.
2. My ex-husband and I got together. We seemed to be getting along well, feeling good about each other, and having a fun and enjoyable time together. We started kissing. Almost as soon as we lay on the bed together, he turned too strong, purposely trying to overpower me. He told me that he was going to crush me, make me bleed inside, and slowly but surely kill me.
3. Usually, when I decide to make myself wake up, it is easy. This time, I couldn’t do it. I felt like I was jerking around and screaming, “oh my god oh my god oh my god”!. I was trying to scream, but felt like it was barely emerging as a tiny whisper. I was trying to scream loud enough so that someone else would hear me and then help me wake up. At some point, my brain realized that I was by myself; there was nobody here to help me.
4. I finally managed to wake myself up, even though I still felt uncertain for a while as to whether or not I was really awake. I was laying still feeling scared; the insides of my body were making weird little clicking sounds. Even when I realized that I really was awake, my body kept clicking. I thought about how my insides have been feeling odd on and off for over a week now; not painful, but uncomfortable in an unusual way that I am not sure how to describe. Bodily clicking sounds? Moving my neck down and making my stomach and legs tingle? What the heck? (After my bad dream, I was lying there in bed, feeling scared, and thinking, “Please don’t let me have another stroke. Please don’t let me have another seizure. Please don’t let me be on the brink of dying.”)
***
Side note 1: Could this bad dream and my bodily tremors have been partially caused by watching horror movies - thinking back upon grandpa watching old-fashioned vampire flicks when I was visiting my grandparents as a little kid – my semi-recent liking of/dancing too much to techno-cheesy music (dancing by myself but often imagining myself dancing in the middle of two gay men; although I’m not trying to refer to my gay men dancing here, so much as my little head jerkings)?
Side note 2: My mom has repeatedly suggested I watch too many horror movies and maybe that’s what causes my bad dreams, BUT I also had plenty of scary bad dreams when I was a little kid who was not allowed to watch those kinds of movies. Maybe then it was related to my mom telling me too many late night tales that started based on the subject matter of ‘don’t talk to strangers’ and then delved into scary subject matter of people slashing legs, peeling off skin, and stabbing hideous liquids into necks.
At least one good thing about my bad dreams is that they can lead to interesting writings, including poetry.
I can creatively pretend that the strange tingling sensations in my neck/stomach/legs are glimmering glitter.
Now I don't want to become a ghost - I'm scared of falling asleep -
of falling into dreams - of falling down falling down falling down...
***
1. My grandpa called me. I didn’t hear anyone on the phone at first, but part of me knew it was him, even though he never calls me. Then he started to speak in a soft and powerless voice, telling me that he was dying.
2. My ex-husband and I got together. We seemed to be getting along well, feeling good about each other, and having a fun and enjoyable time together. We started kissing. Almost as soon as we lay on the bed together, he turned too strong, purposely trying to overpower me. He told me that he was going to crush me, make me bleed inside, and slowly but surely kill me.
3. Usually, when I decide to make myself wake up, it is easy. This time, I couldn’t do it. I felt like I was jerking around and screaming, “oh my god oh my god oh my god”!. I was trying to scream, but felt like it was barely emerging as a tiny whisper. I was trying to scream loud enough so that someone else would hear me and then help me wake up. At some point, my brain realized that I was by myself; there was nobody here to help me.
4. I finally managed to wake myself up, even though I still felt uncertain for a while as to whether or not I was really awake. I was laying still feeling scared; the insides of my body were making weird little clicking sounds. Even when I realized that I really was awake, my body kept clicking. I thought about how my insides have been feeling odd on and off for over a week now; not painful, but uncomfortable in an unusual way that I am not sure how to describe. Bodily clicking sounds? Moving my neck down and making my stomach and legs tingle? What the heck? (After my bad dream, I was lying there in bed, feeling scared, and thinking, “Please don’t let me have another stroke. Please don’t let me have another seizure. Please don’t let me be on the brink of dying.”)
***
Side note 1: Could this bad dream and my bodily tremors have been partially caused by watching horror movies - thinking back upon grandpa watching old-fashioned vampire flicks when I was visiting my grandparents as a little kid – my semi-recent liking of/dancing too much to techno-cheesy music (dancing by myself but often imagining myself dancing in the middle of two gay men; although I’m not trying to refer to my gay men dancing here, so much as my little head jerkings)?
Side note 2: My mom has repeatedly suggested I watch too many horror movies and maybe that’s what causes my bad dreams, BUT I also had plenty of scary bad dreams when I was a little kid who was not allowed to watch those kinds of movies. Maybe then it was related to my mom telling me too many late night tales that started based on the subject matter of ‘don’t talk to strangers’ and then delved into scary subject matter of people slashing legs, peeling off skin, and stabbing hideous liquids into necks.
At least one good thing about my bad dreams is that they can lead to interesting writings, including poetry.
I can creatively pretend that the strange tingling sensations in my neck/stomach/legs are glimmering glitter.
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