listening to an indigo girls album i have not listened to in like twenty years, on great headphones while people party in some other apartment after twelve hours at school that was a mixed bag of awesome medicine wheel life span experiential learning mixed in with my extreme fatigue, a hot room and too many people in it and deep down expressions that never surfaced. i am in love with my school. this music is filling my soul. there was one half hour where i broke down and admitted to a friend the dark vision of the future i saw and i hope it does not happen. the best part was her telling me to speak my art. i finally got it. the wild child, speaking her art is the part that the silent one trumped. trumping happens all over the inside places. red paint thrown into deep empty spaces. a real girl. a creature like no other. she’s all of the colors. she is imagination so lucid it almost becomes real. before she unconsciously let steal the members. what? fuck it. no more logical sentences. up means down. unravel me with sound. i need somebody to play guitar while i sing for hours at night in a basement or something. i need to express so much before i die which literally could be tomorrow but hoping not. oh, here comes my favorite part, “there was a calling that said if joy, then pain, the sound of the voice these years later is still the same.” dreaming about my conflict paper. displacement. the wandering jew. tears in the eyes of the woman on the floor imagining having a home to call her own. even just typing these words makes me start crying. “i am working through the grammar of my fears.” sometimes i wish i could turn myself into a lesbian, but i can’t. sometimes i am envious of people in recovery because they are so bad ass. is that bad to say? i don’t mean to offend. i am just a straight girl who has drinks sometimes. one in a gazillion. how is he gonna find me? who is he? all i see are pieces of what i like and don’t like. i have forgiven all the men of my past for everything. i feel the love like gold coursing through the old mold crashing it down. oh thank you stephanie, you gave me the words that unlocked the secret me from the chest she was inside. art out the mouth. your gold tornado. the distortion is falling and i am feeling the wide expanse of all i am. ironically i am feeling the happiest the moment our collective shadow has become president. using every model all at once. seven generations back and forward, we heal as us today. i am gonna heal them all and have it my way just like stevie knicks does. i am gonna give love in every pocket of space that exists. but can i sleep tonight?