ancient artifacts

black clay medallion, going into the salt

I look at this
it looks like a cookie
i wanna eat it
I look at this and I think you might have liked it.
Like really liked it.
It has that stone boulder-type look that you loved
you made your file folders and icons all have it
It has that riveted, homemade robot-type look to it
that wonky, wabi-sabi ancient technology look.
something you could have unearthed on a dig
or found in our backyard, sticking half-up out of the dirt.
You can see my fingerprints in it, for now.
You can see the literal hand of the artist.
The linen cloth I use to protect both surfaces
above and beneath.

I had to come forward this far.
this far.
Three years.
I had to come forward this far
to make something I truly think you would like.

I think so much that you would like it.

but why am I trying so desperately to please my dead husband?

I purposely posted this past the point of danger.

728p 8 september 2020

i do not want to be alive right now
i want to be not here right now
i do not want anything other than to not fucking exist right now
but i can’t write that and post it now because
everyone will freak the fuck out
so i cant post it
i cant reach out
i cant scream
i cant tell anyone
i just have to not do anything
not do anything
not do anything
just sit with this and struggle and scream inside my own head and not do anything nothing nothing nothing

nothing.
it is all i can do to sit and type
and the stench of that motherfuckers cigarillo is in my fucking apartment
and all i want to do is punch him in his fucking dumb face

nothing.
nothing i cannot do a thing
i will scream and scream and scream and not stop and i cannot stop i have to do nothing.

i know if i open my mouth i will scream and scream and not stop so i dont

nothing.

nothing.
my shoulders are tense and around my ears and tight
this empty this noise
this noise this noise this noise
.
there is no enjoy there is not any enjoy.

i need to smoke.
i need to smoke but it does not last
my plant is so thirsty she needs so much attention i cannot give her the attention the care she needs she is suffering.

i take great big gulps of air but it is not enough there is not enough air..

i am going to go smoke and maybe it will be enough
if i just smoke enough

nothing is enough
my brain is on fire and falling into a crevasse
there is no end to the fire no bottom in sight

it is a relatively quiet evening
even with the idiotic clapping of some fucking asshole for some fucking reason
even with the assault of garbage music that competes with blasting television noise
no yeti-footed neighbor upstairs
(took his black-and-tans and split)
stop with the fucking clapping for fuck’s sake already

i don’t want music
i don’t want noise
i want silence
nothing interfering

my eyes are dry, for now
core unclenched, shoulders still tight, but lower
i can think about packing a bowl now
try without becoming frustrated, fucking it up
easy to do in general, yes but nothing is easy and if that asshole doesn’t stop clapping soon

fuck i am exhausted.

916am. 20th august, 2020

sweet man.
you dearest, sweetest man.
sweet and seeing my sweetness
nothing hidden, not even in the beginning
because friends don’t lie
Friends don’t hide things from each other.
I don’t want ours to be the kind of relationship where we hide things from each other.
no matter what they are.
there is nothing you can tell me that I will not hear.
you only have to tell me.
it’s all I ever ask for.

there is so much to talk about, always.
so much to share, to discuss.

it is this part that I miss the most, the talking
the hashing over
the intricate and meandering conversation.

I love listening to the sound of your voice,
your passion obvious and enchanting
as we talk about everything, and nothing

although nothing is nothing, is it.

the last thing, then drop the mic. 956a 20th august, 2020

finally a spate of cooler weather of breezy
weather.
easy-breezy chicken francese
cooler
head less on fire
brain, still convoluted and badly tangled, untangling.
thoughts racing and tangled more, faster
but less
I don’t know less what?
Less rage, more anger.
Less fury, more sadness, and disappointment.
Less fire, more ice.

More clarity.

There is no
“what did I do to deserve this?” or
“I didn’t do anything to deserve this”
No.
Those thoughts begin to bubble up and are stopped at the first word.
Silenced.
No.
No. I say no.
I will not begin to embody those thoughts.
This has nothing to do with me.
Not ever again.
Nothing.
No thing.

it has gone on so long now that there is no coming back.
there is no balm,
no quiet murmured assurance,
no comforting touch that will ever, ever save me.
Save you.
Not from this.

I thought I knew you.
I suppose I do.
You know what you have lost.
I see now what I have gained.

1019p 16th august, 2020

where did you come from?
(out of nowhere, out of time)
you are at the same approximate place
in space and time
I have proof that time travel exists.
I do. It does.

His time ran out.
Mine began.

Ours is..?
Ours is beginning.

I have learned so much along the way here
To you, to here, to now.
I have learned enough to be able to show you the way
for it seems you are ready to learn.

I am reminded of possibility. 11th july 2020

I am reminded of possibility.

This couple, older than I am,
(not by so much that the differences are stark)
this couple who is writing their next chapter
successful, and snarky, and smart,
cool, and kind, and a little kooky,
warm, and funny, and genuine.

I am reminded that anything is possible.

Everything is possible.

I have seen glimpses of it, I know.
had morsels of it.
enough to whet my appetite.
my palate has become more refined,
my preferences both widening and narrowing in the same instant
as i breathe in
and out.
embrace, joyfully
discard with little fanfare.
there is no value in overthinking what i leave behind
no valuing the discarded
take the lesson and move forward.
that lesson alone,
separating the signal from the noise,
that in itself is such a heavy prospect right now
but in other moments,
(breathe, please. and again. once more. good girl.)
such as this one,
it seems thinkable, plausible
possible.

i have left so much behind am leaving
so much behind.
what would carrying it forward do for me?
cui bono?
for surely i have long since paid for these crimes
surely i am rehabilitated, getting there, anyway
surely i am on the right path
surely i am still going the right way.

it doesn’t have to all come with me
(why does this feel like i’m convincing myself?)
i can let it go
(then why is there still so much left to sort through?)
((can you just?))
(((can you?)))

thousands of photographs, blurry and out of focus
my life is out of focus, blurry
and getting clearer
more clear.
more,
focused.
as the unimportant,
the less-important,
the extraneous
as all this falls away is sloughed away
given away
pressed into other hands, joyfully,
gleefully, even.
no more guilt at not wanting to keep things
no more guilt at the money spent
the time spent
the energy.
spent.

even the idea of it
(the idea!)
the idea is lightening
not lightning,
l i g h t e n i n g .

alien.

Hopeful.
Full of possibility.

by lightening the load
both literal and metaphorical
I am making room for new.
Taking pieces of my armor,
loosening them
disarming.
i have become disarming.

It is only because I can see the enemy
enemies
for what they are
it is only since I have learned how to dance
sidestepping and evading
choosing who to embrace
and who to deny
it is only now that even in my most frantic moments, hours
I do not doubt the loves I have.
I know I am not needed,
I know I am necessary.

I am reminded of possibility.
I am open to possibility.

i am not afraid anymore. 9th july 2020

i am not afraid anymore.

(i was afraid ((briefly)) that i would forget this,
what i wanted to write needed
needed to write
but i was driving and i know how to remember things
((mostly
you just keep repeating them
looking into the middle distance
(((idk if that’s a real thing but go with it)))
and then it becomes a rhythm and then you can just
remember))
)

i am not afraid anymore.
i have faced the worst
the absolute worst.
i have heard the worst.
i have dated the worst
fucked the worst
married the worst.
i have been burned
i have been raped
i have been thieved.
i have lived the worst
i have died.

still,
i rise.

i have done all these things and i have fucking
FIRE in my heart and my brain and my lungs
and i am not afraid of you.
i am not afraid of you or anyone else.

especially not you.

you come try.

i dare you.

8:15 in the morning June 20th 2020

Woke up anxious and depressed. 7 am. It’s an hour and a quarter later I have smoked something that usually is very reliable, I am almost finished with my buttered coffee, and I am still anxious and nervous and depressed there is nothing that is working for me.

today is Saturday and I am going to work and it is going to be busy. I am going to take an edible before I get in the shower and I am going to bring more edibles with me and I don’t know how I’m going to get through the day. Harris isn’t going to be there and I don’t think Jay is either so I don’t really have anyone that I can just tell that I’m having a hard time. Doc is going to be there but he is with patients all day.

Today is going to be really fucking hard. Because it is already.
My entire body is tense.

Understand that all of this is happening.
Understand that there are things to do to mitigate it, and that you know what those things are.
Understand.
understand that you really have to do them.

Talk to yourself as you would a friend. What do you want for her? Use perspective to help her, you, me.

I’m going to need a lot of help today.
I am hoping you will listen.

8:18a 12th june, 2020

I don’t know, how I don’t know how it got to be a thousand days since you’ve died.

A thousand four days. How?

I don’t know, I don’t know how that happened.
But I know that I’ve missed you every fucking day. And I just… it’s only and already two years and nine months tomorrow and I just keep talking to you, I just keep talking to you. I keep talking to you because I don’t know how else to, not.

We always talked. About everything. We did that really well, talking. Sometimes not so nice. But we always talked.

So now what, do I just ask questions at the air? Do I just keep doing what I’ve been doing and uh, keep talking to you this way, writing, and…

I found pictures of you.
Well, Brian found them in the attic. I’ve never seen these pictures of you before. There’s a really hot one.

I miss you.
Every goddamn day.

Love you more.

Gary, age 20. 1990. Killer smile, wink, and dimple 😍😍😍

pandemic diaries: 7:41a international star wars day 2020 | birthday thanks

“I don’t know how it’s possible, but I, I think my birthday this year was possibly the best one I’ve ever had. It’s certainly one of the most special, and I want to thank everyone for being a part of it. 52 on 5/2 I’m certainly not playing with a full deck it’s more like a deck full of jokers.
So thank you everyone for being part of it.”

for the record (and as far as i know you look it up if you don’t believe me) for the past fifty-two years it has been shitty exactly once on my birthday. That was 2001, the year I turned 33 and one of the years I was in and around dating Noel. I’m sure he had just recently broken it off again. Anyway.

my parents built the house I grew up in in 1970. A typical, split-level ranch. Right outside my bedroom window they planted this glorious cherry tree, a Kanzan Sakura, with the big, fat, pale pink marshmallowy blossoms. I love that tree, it’s my favorite flower of all. Blooms every year on my birthday.

I don’t remember how early on but it was early, I told Gary that when I finally owned my own home I would plant one of those trees in my yard. The first spring that we were in the house we planted our tree. We didn’t plant it in a good spot, it didn’t get anywhere near the kind of sunlight it needed underneath the massive canopy of maple and oak. I could, however, see the blossoms from my bedroom window.

Last year, after the house went into foreclosure, I knew that would be my last birthday with that view, of cherry blossoms from my bedroom window. And then the neighbor went ahead and chopped down the maple and oak, that gorgeous canopy of green that had been protecting my head for 13 years. A full backyard of sunlight meant that the cherry tree would have a chance to grow properly now, reaching up towards the sun instead of slinking around corners to find it. Only I wouldn’t be here.

This year however, with the world on pause, I got one last, magical reprieve to spend with my tree. So I went to my backyard, prepared to see admirers as any queen would, and enjoyed my day under the cherry blossoms.