Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Salamanders Green (part 2A) page 16


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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