bruised

wish there was something
i could say or do
i can resist anything
but temptation from you
but i'd rather walk alone
than chase you around
i'd rather fall myself
than let you drag me on down

it wouldn't have worked out any way
and now it's just another lonely day
further along we just may
but for now it's just another lonely day

i'll have a mark twain...on the rocks

when i arrived home on a late night flight from new york city yesterday i was greeted by quite a pleasant surprise. a one alix miranda bollman had taken a hint from one of our favorite authors and prepared for me the perfect coming home present. a steaming hot bubble bath and a hand crafted cocktail. i couldn't stop laughing.

so you understand:

a healthful cocktail
(an 1874 letter to olivia clemens)

farmington avenue, hartford

london, jan 2

livy, my darling, i want you to be sure & remember to have, in the bath-room, when i arrive, a bottle of scotch whiskey, a lemon, some crushed sugar, and a bottle of angostura bitters. ever since i have been in london i have taken in a wine-glass what is called a cock-tail (made with those ingredients,) before breakfast, before dinner, & just before going to bed. it was recommended by the surgeon of the "city of chester" & was a most happy thought. to it i attribute the fact that up to this day my digestion has been wonderful-simply perfect. it remains day after day & week after week as regular as a clock. now my dear, if you will give the order now, to have those things put in the bath-room & left there till i come, they will be there when i arrive. will you? i love to write about arriving-it seems as if it were to be tomorrow. and i love to picture myself ringing the bell, at midnight-then the pause of a second or two-then the turning of the bolt & "who is it?"-then ever so many kisses-then you & i in the bath-room, i drinking my cock-tail & undressing, & you standing by-then to bed, and-everything happy & jolly as it should be. i do love & honor you, my darling.

saml.

my tall glass had everything save the angostura bitters, plus a little water, all in perfect proportion, and it was delicious. i'll have to get my hands on a bottle of the missing ingredient just for accuracy's sake and put it somewhere safe. and whenever i come home from a long trip, or whenever i come home and just need a 'cock-tail,' you can bet i'll be having a mark twain. most likely neck deep in bubbles.

the vanishing silence

the more stoic of my two brothers just smiled in his sleep. and it made me happier in one brief moment than i've been in any single moment in a long time. before he fell asleep i heard much of what he had to say about the things that have been on his heart lately. the things he's been spending time thinking about. and the plans he has for the future. and i am so proud to know him. he makes me dream small dreams that have big implications. he makes me think harder about what i'm doing with my time here. and he wants his family to be a part of it. a part of his simple dream for a marginal society built on the things we so fervently claim to believe in and often fail to apply. there is much we have to learn. much we have left to work out inside ourselves. and these paths before us that we have to walk both separately and together, but it reignites hope in my heart. and in a world where we are robbed of hope daily, this is truly something to be grateful for.

'the real question is that of the power of some people over others. unfortunately, as i have said, i do not think that we can truly prevent this. but we can struggle against it. we can organize on the fringe. we can denounce not merely the abuses of power but power itself.'
taken from 'anarchy and christianity' by jacques ellul

you're not

too good at this anymore girl. you're off your game or off your rocker. or just. plain. off. and what's worse is that you know it. and you watch yourself slip. and you let yourself settle in the dark places where your love is not reciprocated. climb out, kid. dust off the knees of your favorite pair of jeans. and stand. you're taller than this. braver. stronger. or getting there. at least.

--------------------------------

i shouldn't do that. hide 'i love you's.'

fill my lamps with oil

when did i stop dreaming? like really dreaming. like, thinking of six impossible things before breakfast, dreaming? why am i so afraid to get what i need. to say what i mean all the time. i want to ask silly questions without answers. and let my heart love who it does. without torturing myself for what that love is not. be satisfied.

...............................

my irrational anger at the sound of your voice speaks volumes to me. you hurt me without knowing it. you hurt me, because i let you. and you're never any wiser. and i wish i knew what you are thinking when you stare. do you have a library full of words for me too? do you despise your own tongue for it's inability to move? am i beautiful to you? you've said so before. maybe not. perhaps i am convenient. or frustrating. or both. if i let you touch me would you leave? i hope you took me seriously when i said what i said between sips.

will you ever want to give me what you wanted to give me then, ever again?

...............................

i've discovered that it's nearly impossible to be a 24-year-old girl. woman. what?

when that sound

comes
comes in from the outside
it makes me think of souls
flying up into the air
letting go
breaking loose
of their rigid bodies
their tired minds
and it makes me ache
and it makes me happy
and it makes me sink
deep into thought
and wandering dreams
and i know that i am lonely
that i don't fit my own skin
but at least i am aware
of the cocoon around me
and i'm ready to spread my wings

echem..

why does this make me feel slightly vindicated?