my personal "feelings" blog is quickly catching up with my "poetry" blog in terms of actual entries... that means I've been either having an awful lot of feelings, OR, lack of words.
Either way, here go some feelings put into words in a less than artful manner and paragraph form.
ta-da.
So, it's summer time. Or, at least, it feels like summer time.
I'm missing (I'm always missing, does that mean I'm always without? ) I'm missing other summer nights I've had sitting out with friends on porches for hours and hours. Camaraderie. Since when is a porch not enough?
I was thinking about dedicating this post to talking about other dimensions, both time and space, that I often find myself living in when I should be living in the now. But I think I'm going to just dedicate it to porches.
I have my favorite porch, which I'm mourning deeply tonight for some reason even though it is many years past. I suppose because I'm on a different porch with the same cat today. I miss that porch and the people that filtered through it. I miss watching the sun rise over the rooftops of the houses across the street. I miss that hazy feeling when you've been talking or laughing or dancing with the people you love for so many hours that the next day has already started. Exultation.
Does the fact that those days are over mean that i'm old? or that I've let too much get away from me?
Is the fact that I so worship those simple days even though they were are the very depths of my alcohol and drug problems, even though they were the darkest days - is that so fucking bad?
I feel very far away from myself here, in this sterilized world of accomplishment and scheduling (even though that's not even really my world!). I feel like I belong in the place where the sun rises as well, over beer cans scattered and eyelids drooping and legs asleep. In friends faces.
I guess I just morn the fact that any of those possibilities seem far gone now, that all the options are lost.
Even though we were a mess, we were a fucking beautiful mess.
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