Street-side Homeless

Every time I pass a man or woman standing on a major intersection street corner with a cardboard sign that reads, "...anything helps," I always wish I had a stash of love letters in my car to hand them. Crocheted blankets, a brick of cheese, post-its, something to symbolize a hug, coupons to Cash and Carry, anything...because they say anything helps. I don't feel comfortable giving them money, but then again, maybe that's what helps most. I wish I could be so genuine and trusting to hope a complete stranger asking for help is actually asking for help because they need it...as opposed to putting themselves through more harm, but I don't trust a stranger with that decision. I don't know how they got to the street corner, what put them in the position to ask for help, what requires such desperation...but I feel like such a bitch for ignoring their pleas. It kills me to think that when another human being asks the world for help, all the world does is drive on by, doing its best not to make eye-contact just in-case of delivering false hope. I always feel compelled to glance around my car...just to appear like I'm making an effort to look for "anything"...even if I know nothing's in my car. That's what it's come down to...



Break it down even more...and it boils down to a distrust in everyone I meet. I do not trust anyone, even myself...as much as I instantly want to. I can instantly love, I can instantly be fond of you...but I will always trust you only as far as I can throw you. Meaning, I'd trust a toddler over you. At least a toddler doesn't know any better.

So, here we are. Left to decide whether or not it's worth the distance and time, or lack there of. I like you, but I'm terrified of what you could do to me. I feel the fear grow every time you drop me off at my car, or we part ways on Sunday mornings. I die. I'm scared of wasting time. I get more and more offers for commissioned work, but I crave a normal life...the thing I swore I'd never have. I want the freedom to a life full of love, not spent alone. I'm dying, cause I'm stuck not knowing what to do.

I have to think, long and hard. Is it worth it? Are you worth this fight? I remember hating this part...

I Miss Kissing

Manfriend tells me today, "That smirk...it's funny how you can take kissing so easily for granted, cause I can't kiss that smirk off your face."

Which only made me smirk more. He's dangerous business, this one!

I like it.

Images Swirling

1. Girl with eyelids being held open by hooks, color of her eyes is what appears to be overlapping internet company logos.


2. Hand-sewn together cut-up coffee cups...used as a canvas for one larger illustration.

3. Legs dragging an anchor, ankle shackles, cell phones, debt/dollar signs, etc.

4. A spine, complete with collar bones, partial rib-cage, and innards. Inside the stomach lies mini liquor bottles and used cigarettes.

5. Clock-facing, with broken hands. Numbers are strategically bent words, such as "sleep," "beer," "work," "more work," "money," etc. The clock's age/worn appearance has made it look useless.



Needles to say...I'm feeling pretty stretched thin right now.

Self-Sabatage

I should honestly be happy, I should honestly have nothing to complain about. Work is exactly where I need to be. I feel really appreciated for once, and like I'm doing an amazing job...building a reputation. Spending my entire day just loving children, and trying to provide them with a better day than yesterday. I love it, and couldn't even dream of being anywhere else right now.

I haven't found that balance between fun, work, romance, sleep, and creative processing time, yet...in fact, I'm struggling to find it at all. I finally get work where I want it to be...and I feel like I have to sacrifice everything else. I part of me still wants to be an Artist, a god-damned professional one. One who has something to work with, but it's hard to draw when I'm exhausted. It's like a mental block...just when the crowd wants to see more. Willing to pay me for it. I could go as far as I want with my creativity, but I found a niche with childcare. What do I do?

I like someone. I don't want to like someone, but I guess in these cases you don't really have a choice. I have feelings...I have thoughts...I have worries...I have questions, and I honestly just want them to leave me the hell alone. Chuck the niddy-gritty facts off the cliff, and just go back to being happily alone. I was lonely, but accepted it. I ACCEPTED IT! You're asking me to accept being shown affection for now, when I finally got used to the twin bed in my room. I got used to how my body looked when I was the only one judging it. You look at me, and I just want the lights to be off so you have a harder time seeing me and the crap I hate in my brain. So many hands have been where yours have been...and yet, it just feels like it's all new or exactly the trouble I've been in before...and it's killing me, making me feel so guilty that I can't tell the difference yet. You say you're an asshole, but I think our definitions are worlds different. I had never been taken on a date for Christ sake. I'd been given a ring, but failed to accomplish the essentials first. I guess you could guess, it's new to me to start slow. From the getgo, I accepted my body as a tool, a toy. Now you're forcing me to see it as actual flesh deserving respect and breath. My hands, thoughts, and eyes don't know quite what to do with themselves. I feel so utterly clueless...and you feel like an asshole. How can I not feel inclined to head for the hills at this point?

Something keeps me glued to the floor...or glued to the television from a distance. Choose your pick. I've mentally left, as of right now. Grab on, and don't let go.

At This Moment (Never Forget)

Today, I worked my second day at a new childcare position, at a new education facility, with a new company. I met so many smiling faces between the ages of 1 and 40. My good friend dropped his upstanding bass off at my house, completely knowing and trusting me with it, and still is willing to pay me to paint it...with whatever theme I want. I visited my friends at Seattle Children's Hospital, since their daughter (who is only 7 weeks old) has been there for a week with RSV. The Father of this dynamic duo, his Mother passed away on Christmas day. I will be attending her memorial service tomorrow at 1pm at Cross of Christ Church. I have met someone...and I don't care what he thinks of me at this very moment, despite how I worry, I'm glad I have met him, and each encounter is one subtle surprise after another. It may not last, it could end at any time, and I still don't care, because I just feel so lucky. I spent New Year's Eve with friends who have no idea how much I cherish them. After 90 days at the new job, I'll get benefits for the first time in my life. I do not live with my parents, and managed to keep that to total, under a year's time.

Things could definitely be worse, but could not be better...or at least that's how it feels to me, at this very moment.