Made the coffee
extra strong today. Deep black hot the simple exotic imagery of fresh
coffee. I'm just cleaning out the dreams. Just realised that it's
eleven thirty and I didn't go to work. My ex-wife just picked up the
kid a little while ago. It seems that she and I got along better when
we were still married. I think I'm past the pain and loss but then
sometimes I can't help but feel hate towards her. It's not even so
much for the things she's done but rather for the things she is
doing. I never had to deal with that feeling of hating that steady
sturdy kind of hate that only pretence makes seem other wise. I'd
like to get rid of that feeling but every time I see her... Maybe
it's a negative approach at keeping myself connected with her? I mean
even though it's negative it's still an intense emotional involvement
or should I say attachment? Maybe it's that I still can't or won't
let go and admitting that I still love someone who doesn't want me,
must have some effect on the ego. Past the pain? I think if I had
someone who was close to me right now I could cry for days but it's
too sad to cry alone... and if one can't deal with the pain then it
can be buried, avoided - This day is too nice to get into being
miserable, all I need is the sun, (those rainy days are the killers)
the sun is my meditation, my healer, my direct link. Here I am in the
sunlight, with eyes closed, brown skin and my hair wild in the wind
ready to enter the breath taking void...
Starting to
eat better. Bought some groceries and even ate breakfast this a.m.
The simple things eating, swimming, sunning, writing. I'm proud of
myself; I am making good recovery - staying out of bars, staying out
in the real world, the green wet bright world. It's pleasing to be
alive, to just breathe is great! I'm not trying to be what I'm not,
I don't spend myself trying to change for a woman who doesn't want me
anyway. I may not have much but I have my self, I have the freedom to
be that. Finally for the first time in years I'm living up to the
responsibility that I have neglected for years, neglected for
marriage, child, lovers, parents, bosses, friends - that major
responsibility is to live up to myself - To Be My Self. The true
responsibility of the individual.
There are 6
packages of birthday cake candles, 3 boxes of Bicycle playing cards,
a stack of pot holders, yesterday’s mail, some paper napkins and a
dish towel on the kitchen table. The proceeding still life has been
brought to you courtesy of my sister cleaning out the kitchen drawer.
From where I sit
I can see the flower box on the back porch window, the little things
have handled the drought quite well, ( no thanks to us) the big
evergreen it's friendly shadow of protection extended to those
geraniums and whatevers, saving their lives, killing the grass. I
want to paint. I think that will be the next step in my self
proscribed therapy. I've got my easel and stuff but I need to go down-town for canvass and with the temperature not being bellow ninety
for the past weeks I just haven't been able to work up the ambition
to go bus riding. Also I think what to do with the finished
paintings? This is not my house I don’t even have a room of my own.
In fact the last time I left a painting here someone poked a hole in
it. I think that I'm thinking to far ahead. I'm not gonna let anyone
talk me out of painting in - especially my self.
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