fireworks aftermath…

sometimes i want to be alone.  for days on end.  i don’t want to explain myself to anybody.  i don’t want to take in any new stories.  i don’t want to talk.  been that way for a few days now.  needing to cancel plans.  and keep canceling.  work is a little bit of a challenge, though i like being there in that way, it’s balancing.  i don’t have to show too much emotion.  i get tired of emoting.  i want to be placid.  i am washing myself clean of myself.  there was a moment last night, when the loud booming of the fireworks flooding into my apartment stopped scaring me, as i watched them burst above the lit up buildings (i have an amazing view of downtown), with the moon staring at me so intently, i felt my every thought being absorbed by him…while listening to simon and garfunkle sing sound of silence, america, and other songs from their greatest hits album…alone…buzzed from a whisky…having just completed a painting…that i felt fully alive…and nothing felt wrong or off…every sorrow of my heart felt justified by my mind listening to my spirit say, “the gains and losses are equal treasures.”

deep appreciation for my life.  i am looking at apartments in northgate.  i don’t know.  it’s hard to know.  it’d be nice to have a washer and dryer in my unit.  and a partner whom i am truly compatible with, where neither is too much or not enough.  riddles and heart breaks.  karma and bread.  though i feel content too.  i have a gypsy in me and she knows how to be alone and how to carry her home on her back.  it’s rather easy.  this could all go away at any moment.   i am almost too big picture oriented, but i like it.  the labradorite around my neck keeps me tethered to a love not bound by time and space.  took a nature walk yesterday and enjoyed laying in the grass and by a tree.  i also love the city.   i miss new york as much as i miss the sea and the trees.  and then there is right here, right now.  this little neighborhood that i cannot seem to walk away from.  filled with homeless drug addicted souls, bougy upper middle class twenty somethings, the gays and artists holding down the forte from the olden days, trying to keep it real…we all have our identities, both complicit and pure.

this blog is a dew drop on a blade of grass….happy july fourth…