Thoughts on June 21 2024
Remember when you use to write stories to process emotions.  Teachers like my writing but I lost control of how to get smarter or better at that skill in college. I was pulled in too many directions at once so at most times in class I was doing the bare minimum, not because I didn’t care though.

I have been trying to tell him that sex is meaningful for me, but I think what I need to say is that sex hurts me.

I feel so much shame. the language of physical intimacy is so tarnished in my life and it won’t go away it is just rusting silently. I told him.

I am figuring something out right now. I know I am learning. The lessons of adulthood are visceral and isolating. I  am so afraid of everything because I am so far away and outside of organizational/ familial/ institutional support.

I told him sex means something maybe to prove to myself that he actually cares about me. I wanted to see if he actually cares about me. If he does this is an inaccurate form of measurement. If he was communicating that he doesn’t through such a defiant act, I am sick to my stomach to my bones.  

Sex with him is burdensome emotionally. My body is also starting to tell me of the physical consequences  in soreness and weight. But I look in the mirror and my body is beautiful.

She is so beautiful because I take care of her truly. I do not have to force anything to look like this and I  feel good and calm.  That being said it is impossible to find an equibrial peace and the mounting, rusting amoeba of shame, fear, anger, anxiety and depression shows through my bitten nails, crooked jaw, eye bags, and poor posture. It rips through when I masturabate too much smh.  

The answer is in isolation, detachment, and rest.

Smoking weed is a habit attached to difficulties with regulating my nervous system. What is self soothing? Writing, silence, doing my hair washing my face, cleaning my body, cleaning my space.

Going for a walk has evolved into a weird thing where there is something anxiety inducing about being outside and perceived in a small town.

Swimming yesterday felt so good but again a  50 year old man asks me where I got my swim top as a recommendation for his wife. The prolonged eye contact the audacity. And I actually stooped town to give him an asnwer without smiling. I see the man in the lane next to me trying to talk to me suggested by his efforts to time when I reached the end of the lane.  

I feel safe in the women‘s showers and I find a saturated philosophy of survival and motherhood in the bodies of grandmothers and mothers.

Blending in when I should and Standing Out when it is crucial for to propel myself into the life I want. I can only care about that and must go with the flow and be unemotional with everything else.

Stay inside be invisible

Thoughts on May 12 2024

The Prince of Marin  

He lived at. the top of the hill. Sheltered and hidden from society in a house off a hillside. The back faced an open vallery of redwood trees. Dipping down the slope a blanketed bottom where the frogs would chant after dark.
The wide open windows looking outwards. The green of the scenery soothing the white walls, white couch, white blankets, white tablecloth, white tiles, and white towels.

I was allowed to stay in the castle, intimately in his confines. The Prince liked to play with me, teach me his ways, and show me how to play. His way of life administered simply with a philosophy. The Prince had gone mad 3 years ago. He has not been the same since. He receives extensive medical treatments and a mouth full of pills morning and night. Calm-tempered and gentle but cold and solidarity. He likes to cuddle with me.