soul fatigue monday…

today i will head back to seattle. sitting in the kitchen of friends drinking coffee and eating toast, feeling ungrounded but present. yesterday i did some yoga and it took my edginess right off, like an emotional exfoliation. but this morning i feel dull and tired, too much so to devote time to the practice, which i know is an excuse. at least i am writing. i miss seattle so much. it’s weird, how ingrained i am into that city, and how cities are relationships too. relationships. i wonder who my partner to be will be? i am in such a single zone right now. jz asked me if i was dating anybody and i said “no,” flat as a soda left out in the hot sun for three days. heart shut down maybe? the longing is not present right now. last night matt read us robert frost poems. i felt robert’s spirit come to me. he went through so much loss. now i have a robert frost obsession. i feel what he was feeling. i remember before technology in another life when time moved slowly. i miss the slowness of time. i was there with robert, staring into the metaphorical woods that represent death. i felt his longing to be free of the body. a quiet longing. perhaps this is what sex, in it’s true form, abolishes. sex is replenishing when the connection rides up all the chakras and two become oneness united. replenishment. i am craving it. i want to dive into salt water with spaciousness around me. i am feeling crammed i realize. too many stories are trying to have air space in my heart, yet none of them are my own. none. what is my story? i cannot find it. i have lost myself. and yet i have not lost myself at all. i am right here, typing on the keys. i feel neither happy nor sad, neither excited nor defeated. i am riding. you know when you are riding how feelings just ride too? like that. i am on a metaphorical motorcycle or sailboat. the wind pissed me off yesterday when we were on the dock. it was so incessant and i wanted stillness. desire to get off the ride? who knows. these are just words. not “just” words. words are keys. words are alive. robert frost knew this. i know this. but i am rebelling. against what? the constant uphill mountain walk and windy ride gives me an edge that loses all sentiment. there is a harshness present. underneath is a sweet soft little oyster of a feeling that can only find outlet in a poem. it’s not a light hearted time. i don’t have any expectation for it to be so. i feel no expectations about life. i am rooted in pragmatic reality with an idealist vision seeding in my heart. the vision can only be seen under the full moon though. maybe this is why i am weary. from the contrast. the perplexed horse not knowing why his human is stopping to look into the metaphorical woods wants to keep going. and so i will…

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