Friday, March 15


I feel a sense of melancholy today. Quiet and reserved. With tiny, secret bouts of fury and terror and pain. I want to wish the world away and stand in sunshine. Sleep in warmth and dream of waves and skies and stars.
"What shall we do, all of us? All of us passionate girls who fear crushing the boys we love with our mouths like caverns of teeth..." -Blood Roses

My day job makes me too lazy for my freelance work, and I sit and waste the afternoon away.
I want to buy back my hours, the ticking seconds I didn't use. They make me feel useless. Wasted. Old. Every second another moment of my life gone to nothing but sitting here.

"But the Cyclops eye seemed like it could drill a hole right through her, so that in the pictures the tree tapping the window would show up where her heart was supposed to be." -I Was A Teenage Fairy
My medication hasn't taken away my depression or anxiety (yet?), but instead I have a sense of clarity within them. My depression comes in phases curled under the covers. Eternities of seconds staring at the ceiling in empty, quiet thoughts. Each individual anxiety eventually lost in a haze of moments passed. Forgotten with the simple, silent passing of time.

"'Let the pain wash over you,' she said. 'Let the pain teach you. If you can feel it then you can feel joy again...'" -Blood Roses (Changelings)
Only my anger remains. Surviving the ticking clock as my skin crawls and my mind twists with useless, mild rage. Curling through my thoughts like wisps of smoke, slithering snake temptations of hate.

"I wanted to destroy the body I was trapped in, become what she was, no matter what it took. No matter how much mutilation or pain." -The Rose and The Beast (Ice)
Even food is like work, and I ignore hunger pangs like unwanted advances, curling up to listen to the silence.
It comes and goes, this peaceful, empty melancholy. Some days the world is mine. The sun shines and music plays and work gets done my new apartment is its own world of possibilities and I am potential itself.

"We try on different dresses, different selves, but our souls are always the same-- ongoing, full of light." - Psyche in a Dress
Then the quiet days come. Empty but the buzz of the ac unit or the refrigerator drone. I listen to dogs bark and people climb the steps behind my bedroom, and think of nothing, or wish for everything, and sit with my nothingness.  

"I wanted him to call me darling. Tell me it would be okay. We'll take care of it." -Echo
I wait for the better me, as if she will crawl out of my own skin to make me dance and sing and smile. She will be beautiful because she is strong in herself. Not for others but for her. Lips tilted  upwards and heart open to the sky and the world. Unafraid of her own shadow and the voices of others. Unafraid of the blank page or the open door. She will be me. The right me. Born of my self.

"I will paint a Tarot deck-- my own.... I will be the Hanged Man, also the woman in the Lovers card, also the Queen of Cups. I will be Strength with her lion." -The Hanged Man

Om Mani Padme Hum
"I will be Strength..."

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