Post haze induced alternate reality AKA everyday life

Salutations,

I haven't updated my blog in a while, and even now I am writing because I don't know what else to do with myself at the moment.

You spend a lot of time thinking about self improvement and any non-working towards that goal or in some way or another being productive moment feels like an insult to the grace that decided you should be here with us today. 

Much of it is folly. Or error, or pain and misjudgment. 

But thankfully, not most of it. Most of it is beauty and kindness and a mystic type of striving. If I was bubbling up because I thought I had something to say, then I would just say it and be done with it. I am slowly realizing that life is the accomplishment of all of the moments, it is the wholeness you can bring to your own existence. In the silence and spare moments when you are alone with yourself, and these moments happen a lot with me these days, there is a space for reflection. For me, the pool is crystalline and clear, and muddy the moment I take a step in, pool's all like I am for reflection! Not swimming! 

Oops.

I turn thirty four this month and I'd be lying if I said this fact has made me more contemplative, because that is a way of life for me. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I am not in a relationship, and so instead of worrying about what the other person is thinking, or how much I am yearning for an affair, or where to have date night this Friday I am thinking about me.

Me me me. All the time. 

Of course it's not in a selfish sort of way, though that happens too, more recently the thoughts have been focused on my career. Where to go from here, as I am approaching my pupa stage, I yearn for clarity in terms of what the future will hold for this little butterfly... Moreover, realizing I am increasingly lose a grip I never had on my dating life, I feel perhaps my energy would be better suited in advancing that which I have dedicated so much time to. The truth is, as much as I want to be inspired and motivated to make art, I can't really rally enough resolve around that to make it seem worth while as often as I would like, anyway. Inspiration is also not as easy to manage.

That is interesting. Two things I really want (love and inspiration) are out of my hands. How shitty. I guess, maybe it isn't. Maybe it's an ultimate kind of test  of my resilience. Well universe, that is just fine. I am focusing on things I can control. Everything else can let be sorted out on it's own. When and if it does. I got bigger plans for me right now. I can't dwell or be caught up in the what ifs or the could have been's, or heck, even the I wish they were's. 

What does it mean to better oneself?

To me, there is a direct correlation between a life well lived and public service. But obviously it should be fun, and perhaps lucrative public service (am I crazy to even dream such a thing?). Maybe. I am pushing towards something, I don't know what that ism but I know I am not there yet.

Will I die some day? The answer is yes. You and everyone you know will all be dead some day. You do not know when that day will be unless you decide to do it yourself. There are some truths that are true of all of us.

You could be better. Whatever you are doing, there is someone who'll likely could do it better than you could. And, that person is likely not very far away from you.

Could you for a second imagine expressing your self to it's fullest potential? I have fantasies of it sometimes. Flirty, ethereal fantasies that tingle with meaning and dance at the tip of my tongue. Am I throttling full force to unabashed mediocracy? Will I recognize the difference? Is this not, the life best lived? With all of my heart and intention and feeling.

What is it about love? What is it about passion and esteem, about being charming and charmed?

I can describe a sweetness, I can tell you about the texture of a ripe peach, flesh slightly fuzzy and soft between your finger tips. I can regale you with sensuous stories about the juice, squishy and rolling down your chin. Sticky and refreshing.

But, I don't know much about passion these days. My experiences recently have been with feeble roots (if any at all).

We stir stir stir the pot.

The aromatic spices gather their impetus and exhaust their options. Into the air, away, away! In the nostrils of another, in the nostrils of our selves.

Over all, I am doing pretty well. Romantic entanglements notwithstanding.

Crafting, plotting, sitting, breathing, rocking, melting, spinning, sweating, gyrating, smiling, laughing, piercing, giggling, texting, watching, listening, picking, taking, giving, looking, cutting, cooking, lighting, thinking, watering, hoping, moving, crushing,  sneaking, and generally having a good time.

Till next time honey bunnies, expect good things.

Ain't it Or No? Stories of inching towards utpopia

Salutations y'all!

Let me talk to you about dating. 

I feel like I have enough conversations about this in a sort of cursory and peripheral way often and I hardly ever feel satisfied with both my answers to questions and my ability to really express what it feels like and how I react to it.

I complain about the dating scene in Portland a lot. Whenever anyone brooches the subject you can practically countdown to my eyes rolling into the back of my skull and my jabbering jaw flapping up a storm about how weird it is, how it's sideways racist, and how it can't be just me. I would also have to be as quick to admit that I am part of the problem. 

Take last night for example, I went on a date with this chap named Logan. It was one of the most intense workdays in recent history, co-hosting a webinar, 4 and a half hours of back to back meetings, thinking about my goals for the year, submitting an article. Literally, my brain was on high power mode for like 10 hours straight. After that I went straight to meet up with a friend for tacos, as soon as my ass slid onto the seat my mouth was sputtering out the words, cheap ass red please (that's it's name on the menu, swear). After coming clean with my friend about how my brain was slightly comatose, we hung out drank wine and ate tacos. When I got home, I kept drinking and watched some Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy, but I was a little restless. Do you ever feel like that after a really brain heavy day, like you can't actually compose proper thoughts but you can't help but ramming your remaining functioning brain cells against the wall. 

So I hit this guy up that I had been having a little bit of back and forth with (more on that later) over OK Cupid and checked to see if he wasn't busy, turned out he wasn't and he was interested in getting a little spontaneous. I suggested we meet at a bar close to me. Now, this was possibly the last drip of functionality I would be able to muster that day. Under no normal circumstances would it have been a good idea to go on a date, I can't imagine I would have been anything but ridiculous. My conversation would be non sequitur, I have no idea if I even could be able to finish sentences or make any sense at all. I wasn't mentally disabled or anything, I was just really exhausted. I wonder what that poor dude thought of me afterwards? Maybe I am being a little harsh on myself, but I really don't think I was a very compelling figure sitting before him.

I guess my point is that, even though I knew I wouldn't be my best self, I still made a choice to go out and meet this guy. This sentiment isn't a new one for me, I found myself explaining the experience of a first date as generally staying low and not making a big investment mentally. 

What the heck!?

Even though I intellectually can appreciate the contradiction in this MO, I feel like I am genuinely doing the best I can. I am generally pretty honest and straight forward about not paying much attention, or about how I didn't read your profile or how I won't likely remember anything that we talk about. Recently I went on a date with someone and it was the first time I had actually seen the guy sober in daylight and I remember thinking, "Oh, that's not how I pictured him". They just happen too often, if I was to really dedicate all the energy that is required to get to know someone I would be totally drained.

I feel like I am a bit at a loss at this point. My attitude is kinda nasty these days. If a guy doesn't demonstrate and eagerness to want to get to know me and show me that he is physically attracted to me right away I begin to become disinterested fairly quickly and then it's hard to get me back. I think though this makes sense to me, I wonder about those connections that take a little longer to develop, and about dudes who have different ways of demonstrating their affections. I don't know, but I feel like I am so deprived of chivalrous sentiment and such time honored courtship rituals such as a guy asking a girl out that I really have gotten kind of grumpy and sour about the whole thing.

I guess I could just stop, but that feels wrong to me. It feels like I am not doing my part to make it happen, even though I know that is silly. I did stop recently for a few months and while I will admit I felt a certain calmness about not having to be so active in my search and constantly being judged or having to (in some ways at least) and felt at peace with my solitude more. I can't deny that I want to be in a loving, good, quality relationship, and not at least opening up some channels to make that more likely to happen makes me feel worse, I think.

All the dishes rattle in the cupboard when the elephants arrive, I want to love you madly!

On the other hand, I ain't stressing.

In some deep recess of my mind, I feel like I believe that it won't be so hard when I do fall in love and it's right. I will just know and things will just make sense, not to say that I won't ever argue with that person or that there won't ever be any problems, but it will be a special kind of easy. The kind of effort that feels worth making and the kind of touch that electrifies every part of your body, that sort of sweetness that melts your heart and softens you up in ways you didn't know were possible.

But, who knows how or when, till then and in between time my kittens, expect great things.  

Use Your Words

[Salutations]

Do you believe in fate?

I don't. I believe in my will, I believe in circumstances and things that happen and don't happen. I think it's all related, in a physical way and in a causal way, bullets ricochet off buildings in drug deals that feed our habits in one way or another.  Blinds drawn so we don't have to see how the ins and outs are broken down and reconstructed in tent cities across town. Blatant vagrant tendency, hideous display of humanity, but the truest. 

I had the thought today that maybe too many thoughts can cause growing pains in the mind. Isn't that funny? As if consciousness was an muscle that could be worked out and refined and made stronger.

Hey babe, check out my swo grey matter. what chu think?!

Ha!

With all your beautiful memories, and your misspent youth. If you could just babble forever and people actually cared what would you say? Delicate interwoven in all the fabric, joyous and raucous, simple sometimes but usually ecstatic and conspiring with the universe. Do you feel soft as silk sometimes, pliable and malleable, drinking in the complexity and nuance permeating the dew drop drapes of our existence. There really is no point in living if you don't hold your head up high, you stand for everything, continually falling out of favor with the people who float by unwittingly. A smile spread like butter across my face, a sweetness spilling out of me I can't help. And I don't want to, I want to give it to you. 

Feeding you feeds me.

Why does life appear more interesting when it's happening in slow motion?

Could you picture yourself as a monument? Could you ever imagine that your life might be worthy enough to remember? Enough to broadcast? 

Differences measured so close to our skin, I don't see how we'll get anywhere at all, and yet, I still quiver. I still shake with the prospect of frution, what can I hope for? Breathing in cutting through the air and making way for my own place, my own needs. Letting go of any attachments, but unable to relinquish control even if imaginary. Somewhere it's possible that an action I have taken has brought me closer to that light.

When I think of you I imagine an understanding, peaceful presence. I can get worked up sometimes, in spite of everything, because of everything. There I not left a stone unturned. 

I miss the places I have been, and sometimes at night I think of places, people, memories. Kissing friends in basements, laughing so hard I couldn't breathe, drinks on wooden porches, cicadas (so loud), southern thunderstorms like no other, lots of gravestones, bodies of water, bodies of flesh, and some cobble streets, horse carriages included. I am blessed with resolution, and some healthy mother fucking drive. The potential is scary, and I don't yet look it in the eye. I am not averting my gaze, but there are somethings I can't quite set my sights on alone.

Things I yearn for. Things I want to be good at.

 

I remember Piccalilli lunches with my mom after shopping outings. We would grab our trays and silverware saying hello to the attendant. We would dutifully greet every server, as everyone we would encounter in our journey, except for the older creepy gentleman. Manners are important.

As we made our way down we would choose meal components that appealed to us. In the beginning was the salad, I rarely started my culinary journey here, but sometimes I would feel like being healthy (even if it was drenched in dressin). Anyway my mom would sometimes get the gelatin salad at this point, the thing was though that she would eat it for dessert. In my little mind, this always seemed like cheating to me. Like she cold choose her desert before anyone else. It was silly!

Then came the protein mom went for the fish 9 out of 10 times. Fish always seemed like the thing you would go out for. I liked the meatloaf mostly, but some other ones I can't remember too. Truly I mostly remember the sides, Mac-n-cheese, mashed potatoes with little pools of gravy in the center. The jalapeño cornbread sticks. The fruit punch that later evolved to iced tea. We would always personally greet the cashier. They issued you a receipt and then you would hold onto it until you left, then you would present it to the exit cashier. My mom and I liked to hit the booths, sometimes the lights would be out and we would have to choose an alternate. We would sit and chat about things, people at church, crazy families members or something I was going through at school. My mom is by far and away the most negative person I know. I have been a ray of sunshine for as long as I can remember. Maybe positivity for me is a way to tell the rest of the world to man the fuck up. Like, really? You think your shit is bad why don't you wake up and smell the cow manure because lifestyle causes suffering all around the world.

I am not saying it does mean that all the time, just that it's possible that it is saying that sometimes.

I deal with change by subjugating it.

There is a constant opinion that I could walk away at any moment, I kind of believe it too.

I just want to tell you everything so you'll understand me, I just want to bare my bones so you can lick them.

I'm too earnest to expect anything back from you, the best surprises are those connections that rise to the top.

I'll walk away from here with more than a few, I am sure.

I'm sure I'll walk away from here.

Until next time, sweet sweet pussycats, expect great things...

The tippy tops of the pines, all along the horizon

Salutations friends & countrymen!

The spring is in full throttle before us and in Portland the shift in weather has created a palpable frenetic joy among the town folk, myself included. The beginning of the year 2016 has felt really busy and spilling over the sides of capacity, something that while uncomfortable in the moment, has it's value in terms of fomenting growth. 

April seemed like a good time to check in with y'all, the last time I wrote I was in the midst of some significant self imposed challenges to my personal status quo. Now I have completed those challenges and wanted to take a moment to reflect both on the meanings of the challenges and the implications of completing them.

The first challenge was to stop drinking alcohol for six months, and that was a birthday resolution. Every year, on my birthday I decide to make a change that has either been difficult for me to realize in my life or that will insert a bit of flux in my day to day in a meaningful way. This challenge fell in the latter category, and one of my biggest take aways from the process has been how interesting folk's reactions were. People always seemed quite curious as to why I was undertaking such an endeavor and would often either not be satisfied with my response or say something about how they would never be able to do that. I think people (especially friends) were impressed and supportive as well, something that coupled with accountability definitely did a good job of egging me on. 

I thought about it and how it was affecting my life experience mostly every day of the challenge, in varying degrees. For example, if I was out at a restaurant having dinner I would think about what beverage I would prefer to be having instead of a non-alcoholic alternative. Or if I was driving home past a nice outdoor patio on a sunny day I would day dream of what that would feel like and look forward to a time when I would be able to do it again.

Self imposed restrictions are funny things. Of course I can do whatever the heck I want, and a few times I thought what if I sneak a drink, no one will ever know. It's amusing to me, the thought no one will ever know because that's not the point and because it is a suggestion from myself to myself regarding something I have decided to do. Ever since watching Pixar's film Inside Out I have been more and more aware of of these internal dialogues and trying to isolate where the different thoughts are coming from. Different mental sections and factions guiding faculties awry. We wage little battles inside of ourselves everyday, and every day we are both the victor and the spoils.

With not drinking, I would say the biggest joy I derived was from successfully completing the challenge. In some respects I had no doubts, and in others I was equally as curious as everyone else as to whether I would in fact complete it. This is another notch in my will power belt, something that can always use strengthening and moral support.

Coming back into it now I definitely think I want it to play a different role in my life, mostly be less present and more special. Drinking is a super fun activity and a really useful stress reliever, but it can only be one of the options and not one that is without it's own set of repercussions. So I think I am more mindful of those now that I have been without, plus I sound more convincing to myself when I say you can do this.

Wee! 

Also, holy crap! I am 33 1/2!! Hahah, that probably was my other take away, time goes really quickly and faster as you age. Here we are!

The other challenge was to stop the Internet dating, and that was an uncharacteristic New Year's resolution. Originally the goal was to cut it off by three months, then my friend convinced me to make it four months so that one month of drinking would overlap with a month of not online dating. The purpose of that ostensibly was to see what the romantic bar scene was like in Portland. Whatever the point was I caved and kept to my original intention of three months, so I just signed up for Tinder again in the last days of March.

Anyone who knows me knows that those two things in particular (drinking and dating) are things that took up a not insignificant amount of my free time, so giving them up was an intentional and almost brash choice to shake it up.

The reason I decided to get back on, aside from not being excited at the prospect of meeting guys at bars, was that I was getting bored. How do people meet people?!?! There was no one at work that was not already spoken for, and no friends of friends were speaking to me in that special kinda way.

When I began thinking about signing on to online dating again I started getting anxious, especially thinking about the Ok Cupid scene. The idea of writing out my profile and pouring over the profiles of others in search for relevant nuggets and cute faces made me feel a little revolted. In the end I decided that I would do a "soft opening" and go with just the tinder. It felt low key enough and would not take up a considerate amount of time and could plug in easily in my evenings of tea and Star Trek (needless to say that the #startrekandtinder hashtag has not taken off).

Similar to the booze, I was pleased to have a break from it, and pleased to get back into it. I have a date today for the first time in the last three months, it's totally still fun and exciting and a little bit dreadful. I have changed my attitude towards the whole process to be more casual, not more casual in my ultimate intention, which is to be in a serious LTR, but more causal in my approach. I make myself available, and I am responsive, but I am trying to not put too much of myself out there and to not take anything personally. We'll see how it goes. Already I am giddy and inspired and having all sorts of sweet day dreams, romantic connection is something that is core to the fruition of my humanity, I can't deny that. I also realize that I have little control over that happening, and all I can do is my best at realizing all of those aspects that don't require being paired off. 

I have been cultivating friendships, looking into more hobbies, exploring my geography, jumping on trampolines, and eating waffles.

It's pretty OK. 

:)

Till next time gentle reader, expect great things.

Tear me up, tear me down.

Salutations,

I feel like I keep begining these posts with apologies for not posting more, but I am going to stop doing that and take more of the Gandalf approach (a wizard arrives just when he means to).

That said, how've you been?! It's been a while. ;)

I'm a solid pretty ok. Plenty of business, ups, and downs.

We are, all of us, oceans and oceans. I had this thought the the other day while a dentist chatted with the dental assistance about his upcoming Italian vacation. While he was complaining about how his neighbor was going to be in the same town during his vacation, I was swimming in my depths. "Can you believe it? Same week!" 

What does it mean to be a deep person? How do I know that my thought patterns or habits are unique or particularly profound if I have never had any other perspective? I think that there are different ways of thinking, that's for sure, and I think that some people don't do it as much.

I ask a lot of questions, of others and myself. I feel like am always pushing at my mental comfort zone, with mixed results. There are somethings that preoccupy me and these things shift, it is interesting to see how as I age. I feel more confident, but still like I am seeking, I wonder if that will ever change. In some ways I am eager for that and in others I feel like it is the beginning of death. I wonder how my presence affects those around me, I want to make the space and people around me positive and cheerful. I feel like it's the least I can do to earn my keep in the cosmic melange. 

I quit online dating for the new year, it's been about a month now and I thought maybe I'd give you an update on what that's been like. Like quitting the drinking (I did that for six months on my birthday last year) it's been pretty interesting to quit something that I relied on so heavily. I was spending a lot of time searching and browsing with little images on a screen, which yielded plenty of "results" in the way of keeping me busy meeting lots of boys. It was not, however, yielding the kinds of results I was seeking, namely falling madly in love forever and ever. Ironically, despite this preoccupation I have never considered myself to be someone who was defined by having a partner. It's just something I wanted, and if I ever wanted something I would do everything in my power to make sure I got it. 

Turns out relationships (especially the kinds worth having) don't follow this  logic, I can't just make Mr. Right manifest because I want him, or because I feel my loins are all ready for a dog, and small house, and a garden. That was one of the most terrifying parts of cutting the internet dating umbilical cord, I was relinquishing what little, imaginary control I had over the situation.

(Thanks Caro, for this nugget!)

I miss things like the attention from cute boys and the constant juggling of suitors, I must admit there was something appealing of filling up the agenda with people names. Sometimes up to three different ones in a week, you have to write it down to keep it straight! But it gets old and I recognize that ultimately the kind of attention that I am seeking is not the kind that comes from a person that doesn't actually know me, it is the kind from someone who is familiar with both my strengths and faults. The kind of attention that love, comfort, and familiarity bring with.

I have also felt a little more calm and peaceful, like I am never tying to impress anyone and I am living simply but as best I can. In general I would say that I have been less preoccupied but more open to having something find me. I am still. Fine Universe, do whatever you want. See what I care.

I am going to Florida next week! It's my mom's 60th birthday and I am flying over to spend it with her. I am happy to see my folks. My mom doesn't usually make a big deal out of birthdays, but I wonder if she will for this one. Like, I wonder how she is prepared psychologically for turning to new decade. I worry about her not being excited or motivated by life, always thinking instead about the glory of the afterlife in the kingdom of god or whatever.

Work is going well. It's been interesting, after the salaried position became mine I now view work in a different way. I feel more dedicated than I had before, which I think has both it's benefits and its drawbacks. My day to day is not glamorous, but that's ok. I am sure someday I will be fawning for it as I now do my days of barista ing.

If you could be anything you want, you'd be disappointed am I right?

I am trying to cultivate my Portland friendships, but for whatever reason I am not interested in being the one who reaches out. I feel I am really good at saying yes to things, but I go through fits where I don't want to be the one initiating. It's kind of silly, but whatever. I don't mind the alone time so much anyway.

Alright. I feel I have more thoughts and opinions about all the above things, but am too pooped to elaborate any further. Maybe talk or write to me if you want to know more. 

Until next time cowgirls, expect great things..

Is your skull flexible?

Salutations!

The year is coming to a close and I am celebrating my second year at OMSI, it's crazy to me that it's been so long. In some ways it still feels really new.

In other news, I am still single, which seems strange to me, but it's true.

I try to get out to the coast as much as I can.

Here is a story I did for my writing club. It's kinda long but I liked it and found it helpful and therapeutic to write. :)

It's not super edited, and there is a lot of sort of subtle hints of my feelings and thoughts sprinkled throughout. 

I just ate a whole chocolate bar. 

Woah.

-----–-------------------------------------------------

Chapter One, The Girl and The Sea

She swam across such a wide, turquoise expanse, her little arms growing wearier by the stroke. It was early morning, she could tell from the way the sun peeked through the the curtain of darkness, sparkly streaks of dawn littering the sky like broken shards of mirror scattered across the sidewalk. She imagined the world of old, ritual dances and sacred shamans, there was no place for that now. There was just water now, invading the earth with its ruthless but dispassionate will. There is no separation between the earth and the sky, and at any moment we could fall into one from other. Carelessly flapping our wings or stroking our fins in the gray twilight. What matters now?

In the presence of the great love she was left speechless, too young to tell the difference between leviathans and puffer fish. To sink deeply is to know truth in a way that only fires know. To capture the prize, she must pull herself up to the zenith, ah! But the target keeps on changing my dears! Tis noble to practice sweet surrender because you'll never know when it will come in handy. In the back of her mind she believed true love to be eternal, and equally, though perhaps more unfortunately, also unrecognizable.

She remembered a place she never knew, and her mind travelled to it, she was standing in the kitchen, blue gingham curtains and wooden, uneven floor boards. She reached a glass from the cupboard and set it in the counter. She opened the drawer and  grabbed a short stubby spoon and out of another cupboard she pulled down a cylindrical container with the caricature of a young blonde woman on it. Opening it she scooped out two heaping spoonfuls of brown powder into the glass and then grabbed some milk from the fridge and poured it into the cup. 

She stirred.

I will move my pawn to block your bishop, she thought, opening her eyes slightly squinting at the increasing sunlight. She bobbed in the water, loosing the stamina she imagined she possessed. The water was salty, she licked her lips and couldn't tell her spit from sea water, she pushed on up and down in constant fluid motions, arching her back and slipping in and out of thought.

She thought of him, bright light in her world. Fourth of July type of bright, singing angels kind of light. The past makes for good recollection, in times of dry good thoughts like mana rain down from a yet to be identified nether region of the brain. The sweetness, she thought she dare not repeat to any one, except for the person that inspired it. Who knows how things are meant to play out? Futures are written in real time.

All of a sudden, she noticed a metallic shimmer some hundred yards away, what could it be she though, all the way out here? And she swam cautiously towards it.

Chapter two, The King and the Coral Castle

King Symon set down his trident for a moment, looked at Calliope straight in the eye and said "you just can't trust everyone you know, sometimes things and most people aren't all that they seem".  She nodded as if she understood precisely what he meant but was really actually intently focused on devouring the rest of the salt water whiskey bonbons she had been presented only a few moments ago. She took a big swig of  peach lemonade from a cobalt blue glass goblet and thought this was probably the strangest day of her whole life. Never in a million years would she have imagined that the metallic shimmer she had encountered while swimming a mere hours ago would have turned out to be a door to an underwater kingdom. Even less so that its denizens would have been so friendly and that she would be taken to meet the king at once, all the way being fed delicious treats after she had been dried off and fashioned with new clothes just her size. King Symon was an enormous sunfish, so fat he had to be propped up on his side by pillows, atop his dorsal fin was perched a golden crown made of bright red and yellow coral. He looked earnest and kind, if not somewhat deluded,"The true nature of things, the purest and most real form," he went on "is directly in correlation with their ability to be perceived not as they are, but as we imagine them to be". Calliope couldn't really understand what the king was talking about, how could something not be what it was unless it was seen? He kept talking despite her confused looks, or perhaps because of them, "complacency is the mind killer, the soul that bathes in drudgery shall never shine, mental mediocracy is an intolerable crime". As he talked she imagined his flesh turning greener than the inside of a ripe avocado, and she had to look away to keep from giggling at the thought.

She looked around at the Kings court and examined the hodgepodge of characters all performing unique and seemingly meaningless tasks. A sea horse in knight armor stood in the corner twirling a huge staff, a trio of hermit crabs dressed in geisha costumes were fanning themselves feverishly, a pair of lion fish with top hats and monocled peering at her sheepishly, blowing bubbles out of toy pipes fashioned out of shells. It didn't really seem as if anyone had any real thing to do, but they all seemed utterly consumed by the things they were doing. She glanced up to the ceiling of the cavern and there was a giant octopus with angler fish gripped at each of the eight tentacles. This place is pretty odd, Calliope thought, "and as I was saying, the veil to reality will only be lifted by relinquishing our adherence to habit and mediocracy", when she looked back at him she realized that was the concluding sentence and she was being ushered out to great hallway by the seahorse Knights. "Be well my dear!" The king called out at her, "remember to lift the veil!"

The heavy coral doors closed behind her and she found herself alone in a great hallway with many doors.

Chapter Three, The Door behind which Time Stood Still

As Calliope walked down the long hallway she marveled at the different types of doors, wooden ones with paint chipping off, huge slate grey steal ones, smaller ones lined with actual rose petals that seemed to be throbbing as she passed by. She was thinking about which door to try first and if she had to stick with the door she chose or if she would be able to return, she wondered how deep each one of these doors went and if there were interesting creatures to meet on the other side. She came upon a door that seemed to be made entirely out of the wings of blue morpho butterflies, and if her eyes weren't playing tricks on her, which was entirely possible considering the state of things, the wings were moving though the door seemed to be completely stationary. This place defied all the logic she came with and she remembered the Kings advice to not trust anything, and that reality was actually a matter of habit. She kept walking past doors of all sorts and stopped in front of a door that comprised almost entirely of locks, she searched for a knob and finally found one disguised as a lock with a false front. She held on to it, it felt smooth and cold in her hand, she tugged at it and pushed it slightly till she determined that it would turn if she wanted it to. She stood back and looked behind her, the hallway was still completely desolate, she debated internally and decided to go for a door that was to the left of the lock door. This one was made of a glowing screen where an image of a white picket fence was being projected on repeat as if one was running past it in a car, she turned the brass knob and peeked inside. 

Inside the room was a single round white table with one small wooden chair next to it. Above the table there was a black lightbulb hanging, the light was not on so Calliope couldn't tell what color it was. The room was purple, there appeared to be velvet wallpaper on the walls and she thought it was empty until she saw a pair of clownfish hiding underneath the table, "hello?" she said as more of a question than a statement. One of the clownfish came out from under the table and said, "oh, hello, pardon me, I didn't see you come in" he helped the other clownfish up from the floor " also, most people knock before coming in to someone's house" said the other clownfish. "My name is Charles, and this is Veronia", Veronia curtsied "how may we be of service?" "Oh, I am sorry about barging in, I don't really know the customs around here. I was just talking to the king, and before that I was swimming for a long time, and I am dreadfully tired. But, won't you please tell me why you were both under the table?" 

"Well," Charles said, "you see, there is only one seat at the table, and Veronia and I really want to be together, so we decided it would be best if we both sat underneath the table." Calliope was confused, "Can't you just get another chair?" she asked. "You can't just go out and get another chair deary", Veronia said, "these things take time to make, and there are many other folks who have no chairs at all, we mustn't be greedy, besides, the floor is rather cozy and we prefer to leave the chair open for guests." They stared at each other blankly for a few moments and then started to speak at the same time, "would you like to sit down?" and "I guess I'll be going now" stumbled out at once. "Very well then, have a good day" Charles said quickly and she found her self in the hall way again.

Well, at least now she knew she wasn't stuck in the door she chose, she thought. She went back to the doors with the locks on it, hmm, steam punky a bit, isn't it she thought. She twisted the knob, opened the door, and went inside. Inside the room there was a large wicker basket, big enough to hold five people, attached to it were ropes that hung from the ceiling. Calliope looked around the room and saw no one, she climbed into the basket and all of a sudden the door shut and the ceiling opened up to blue skies and an enormous bright red hot air balloon over head. The hot air balloon took off and Calliope found herself soaring high above the country side. "How is it possible that I am flying over the countryside in a hot air balloon, inside of a castle, under the sea?" She thought. She looked up again and this time the balloon was actually a man o war jellyfish with bright purple tentacles wrapped around what she now realized was a basket made of seaweed, not wicker. The jellyfish whispered to her sweetly, "Time does not cross that threshold," pointing with a shimmering tentacle to the lock door below "where you are now, you are still. Nothing happens or does not happen here. There is pause from the great hurried ness of existence."

Calliope sat for a moment taking it all in, not just the fact that she was in basket made of seaweed being talked to by a giant jelly fish floating over who knows where, but all of it, her day, her week, her whole life. She thought about all the bliss and suffering of the world, the sleepless nights and all the yearning in the thousands of beating hearts that ache for a place to call home. She felt surprisingly peaceful at once and all over her, soothing her insides like honey on a sore throat. She looked up at the jelly fish and said "can you take me home?" The jellyfish made a sound kind of like a xylophone being played and said, "no, but I can tell you who can..." There was a long pause. 

"Well, who?"

"Steve" said the jellyfish as it deposited her back into the room and closed the ceiling, "Wait, Steve who?" But before she could finish her sentence the room was back as it was and she was at the front of the lock door.

Chapter Four, Resolution & Red Roses

Calliope was starting to get a little desperate, she couldn't tell where she had come from anymore and all the doors seemed equally as not conducive to finding her way out of this place. While she hadn't really worried about getting home per say, she did want to think it was within her control to decide to do so if she pleased. She started skipping down the hallway, at the end of the way, she saw, in the distance a looming figure. She couldn't really make it out, but she started yelling, "Hey! Hey you!" The figure seemed to rustle a bit with acknowledgement but didn't respond. By the time Calliope finally made it to the figure, she was out of breath. The huge creature turned around and faced her, she bristled at the figure's imposing sleek features and toothy grin, he said "Hello there, so nice to see one of your kind. What brings you to these parts". 

She decided now was not the time for truth, "I am on a secret mission" she said "I have come to find myself, but first I must speak to Steve".  The creature shook its broad head, "Steve is out to lunch" he said, "but he should be back soon, tell me about finding yourself. Why is it a secret?"

"I was on my way somewhere," Calliope said, "but then I took a wrong turn and I got lost. It's a secret because I pretend all the things I do are purposeful, and then I believe it so I have a happy life, because I agree with all my choices"

"So why bother to look for yourself then?" Said the hammerhead, "won't you just be as happy if you keep pretending?"

"No, the second something is no longer a choice then I can't pretend to exercise agency, and it's ruined. Where did Steve go for lunch?"

"I think he went out for a burrito at the truck just outside, he really likes the spicy carrots there. Hey, that makes sense what you said, about pretending your options are real and making the best out of life by accepting the consequences of your actions. I like that". 

"Thanks" said Calliope "I learned it a long time ago."

"Well, you can take a seat here and wait for Steve. My name is Herman, I paint the roses red."

"I am Calliope, nice to meet you".

All this time, she thought it was the orca whales, not sharks who were responsible for the red roses.

I guess you can't believe everything you think.

                                       Expect great things!

I don't know why, I don't know why

Salutations, reader.

Heartfelt, because it is the way I experience life. This mental meandering finds me kinda bummed out. For friends who are concerned, it's OK, life is sort of like that ups and downs. It helps me to thrust my feelings into the virtual stratosphere, so know that at least by reading you are in a small way aiding my ailment. 

Burpa doo.

This weekend I went to the coast. I walked along the beach dicking around taking pictures of the water, hopping across foamy shores, poking jelly fish carcasses, and watching dogs poo and then calling them over to me while the owner was picking up the doodoo causing my happy chemicals to surge from sweet puppy love.

I actually did notice that I had to scuttle a bit from Alexandria Beach, where I had left my car, over to the Cannon Beach to avoid the incoming waves. I wasn't however, sure what way the water was going. Maybe I did know. Maybe I just wanted to keep walking, knowing the whole time that I would have to get in the water some when I got back. 

I didn't really think about it that much till I realized that I had walked a full hour and a half and it would take me just as long to get back. After a bend, I recognized a couple of huge rocks in the distance and thought that I was parked farther away than it looked. As I approached the spot where I had crossed it seemed to me that the waves crashing on the rock were higher than waist line.

I looked to the left away from the water to find mountain with no certain trail upward, at no moment did I question the decision of getting in the water. I took my shoes off and started in.
It was reallly fucking cold and within a few moments I lost my footing and was wading, my hand with the shoes fell down against the rock to support my weight. Soaked those through. I pushed on and my feet scraped some rocks and barnacles, then finding sandy shore and I followed that till I was able to run out on the other side. 

Coming out of the water, I was acutely aware that no one was around. At first I thought it was funny to be concerned with potentially being embarrassed at a moment like this until I realized I was actually thinking I could have easily drowned in my foolish feat. No one would have noticed for at least a few hours, if at all that night. How would have they identified me? Who would they call? What would that whole process look like?

I was totally soaked, no extra clothes in my car, at least an hour and a half away from home. At least I had remembered to pack a towel. I noticed my shoes were still in my hands, and they were much heavier than I remembered, I flipped them over to release a mini deluge onto the tan sand. Oh well I thought, at least they didn't get swept away by the water, those were my only hiking shoes, looking tall, granola, and sturdy in a sea of lanky slacker converse sneaks. I ripped off my water repellent (ha!) pants and the under regular pants were also soaked through and through. I put the water shoes back on to go to the bathroom cause gross, splish slash sloshing to the porta potty, to pee and change into my bright yellow hoodie that I miraculously had left in the car.

When I finally got back to the car I remembered that I had my phone in my pocket the whole time. I fumbled my way through the wetter than I though blue coat. I was able to pull it out and see the screen flash a couple times before it blanked out forever. I was able to distinguish in those couple flashes that I had a twitter favorite notification, a new instagram like, and that Will from TInder was cancelling our date that evening because he had to "pick his friend from work". I thought that is a fucked up reason to cancel on someone. Then the phone went out and I spent the next  few minutes trying to resuscitate it. Well, to be truthful I spent about fifteen minuted soaked, sitting on a towel in my car struggling to open the goddamned kid proof case. I finally get so pissed I just tossed it in my passenger seat and turned the car on and sped off.

Picking up a friend from work? WTF is that shit about. What does that even have to do with me? Like, if a friend of mine needed to be picked up from work at the same time I had a hot date I would be like "fuck off dude, I have a hot date, your ass can take the bus home". I sped  through the beautiful towering trees, flicking up little leaf gusts with my little car, rolling into an uncertain but hopefully drier future.

The losing the phone and date combo was a lethal one to my emo side. I totally sunk into uber sad thoughts. Thoughts about my worth, my future, social status, creative funk, my family so far away from me in Florida. I thought about why my ex who hadn't contacted me in over 6 months sent me picture of our first apartment together. Before we moved into his parent's basement, where we stayed till we broke up a year or so later. That was back in 2007, why was he messaging me now? Where do the mythical figures of our past go to rest finally? Are we always to be haunted by the specter of our sordid pasts at any moment?

It's fine, I am okay with my pasts and all, it's just maybe I am not on a solid emotional footing that week. It's like summoning an avalanche of emotional snow. I just didn't pack my winter gear, ya know? I just try not to think about it, I have dealt with all the things I needed to deal with, I just don't see the point in dwelling in it anymore, I did that for a long time. Held these sort of delusions about these characters concerning everything from prolonged emotional and physical entanglements to amusing notions of keeping up an actual friendship (even though all signs pointed to NOT FUCKING LIKELY).

I wasn't able to listen to any music on the way back home, on account of my broken phone. The radio stations on the Oregon Coast are hella po dunky, abundant country songs in which fellars are talking about their trucks, making margaritas, and going fishing. Maybe one or two, but just a little more of that shit makes me go off my rocker. I had listened to Lonesome Crowded West on the way up, so I was a little butt hurt I couldn't listen to more MM on the way back.

I wish people said butt hurt more. It would give us a nice excuse to think about anal sex. I mean.. uh, not think about it and pretend that we had.

Anyway, I sat in traffic for like an hour during which time I had calmed down enough to think of using a plastic card to pry the otterbox case off of my moist warm brand spanking new now obsolete hunk of pretty rose gold plastic. I finally got it off and it wasn't any better on the inside, some more water and no response to any sort of stimulus. Like me at night on the couch about thirty minutes into Interstellar.

I was bummed about the guy cancelling the date, though not incredibly surprised. That fact almost sadder than the actual event because I am now desensitized in such a way. Maybe that brings with it it's own joys?

Most everything else is pretty good.

I don't have any wise ending words tonight. It was Halloween today and I ran some errands and had pho with a friend. I just feel like hugging someone who loves me. I am ok though. You can't always have what you want and my arms wont forget how to work. 

Until next time you beautiful person you, expect great things.