haiku

a haiku for “THE FUTURE”

RIGHT NOW I like it

RIGHT NOW you penetrate me

“the future” can FUCK

                                            (itself).

Advertisements
Standard
kids, photos

photobooth timeline, 2008-15*

Photo 53 Photo 44 Photo 19 Photo 20Photo 150 Photo 144Photo 71 Photo 126Photo 166 Photo 142 Photo 190 Photo 200 Photo 209 Photo 208Photo 7 Photo 6 Photo 27 Photo 32  Photo 28 Photo 43Photo 131 Photo 132 Photo 168 Photo 157 Photo 172 Photo 254 Photo 192 Photo 161 Photo 369 Photo 360Photo 330 Photo 357 Photo 326 Photo 331Photo 383 Photo 29Photo 340 Photo on 2013-06-07 at 10.45 #2

Photo on 2014-05-24 at 13.58 Photo on 2014-09-27 at 17.19 #6 Photo on 2014-11-29 at 16.18 Photo on 2014-11-29 at 16.17 Photo on 2015-08-08 at 19.45 Photo on 2015-08-08 at 19.50 #6    Photo on 2015-08-23 at 07.16 #2 Photo on 2015-08-23 at 07.18 #5

August 25th is my ex-anniversary. I spent the evening looking through old pictures and thinking and rethinking and adjusting and readjusting my thoughts. I realized through this process that photobooth is a treasure trove of mundane family moments. Especially for a mother. Being alone with children does not lend itself to photographs that actually have you in them. Always behind the scenes directing, adjusting, barking orders, keeping the peace. Since photobooth is tied to a computer the setting is almost always at home. The scene is almost always the living room. The actors are almost always the mother, her children. An attempt to capture a feeling. An attempt to break up long, impossibly endless days. An attempt to see a long forgotten identity reflected back at oneself for even a millisecond. And sometimes an attempt to capture a pretend scenario, characters in some badly written sitcom. The happy family. The OK family.

Seeing all of these brought back a flood of laughter and maybe a tear and definitely a deep feeling of triumph. I feel satiated. I made it though all of this. My children made it through all of this. There are seven years documented here, four houses, three neighborhoods, three cars, a college degree start to finish, a blossoming career, five lives, the birth of two humans, girls girls girls, daydreams, the rejection of motherhood, the feeling that it was too heavy a burden to bear. Heart strings cut up and buried and resurrected with blood and sweat and tears, on repeat. The inevitable collapse of a family unit, the establishment of a new partnership. The release of resentment. New feelings. Love lost, love found. New boundaries, new therapists, old friends, old faiths. New relationships. New dreams, fresh hope. The bitter moments of exhaustion and dread and panic washed away time and time again. Seasons churning and changing, new sunrises, new places, new people.

Good god. It’s all so much. So much good. So much bad. I remember every single one of these frozen pieces of time with such detail. I can taste them, I can hear them, I can smell the burning toast in the kitchen. I can see the thoughts on my face, blaring like neon. I can see when I was clinging to the edges of sanity, wading though deep depression, content, mentally stimulated, trying to be thinner, not giving a fuck. I can see it all. I remember it all. And even with the current that runs though me, connecting this me to that one, I sit here alone and OK. OK is a tangible thing after all maybe. As thick and comforting as a terry cloth bathrobe, enveloping me and them and the rest of it. Warm and sweet. Camomile, kisses, an outstretched hand in the darkness. 

We are OK. We will be OK. It’s all OK. Like she said, he said, they all said. Chest pain, deep breaths. A sigh at last.

Here’s to the mother flipping future, man. I’m excited.

Standard
poetry

iphone notes August 11-20

Notes August 11-?
– get stuff for juice:

Cucumbers

Beets

Celery

Spinach

Ginger

Carrot

Lemon

Apple

//
Chicken

Coffee x3

Some eggs

Peanut butter

Juice
During nap:

workout

Shower

write
//

Job possibility:

email Alex Davis asap

//
– pick up purse

– buy more stuff for juice

– buy hair dye

//

//
TJ list

Bananas

Apples

Blueberries

Chicken

Ground beef or turkey maybe 

Tortillas x2

Bread x2

Peanut butter

Almond butter

Kale

Stuff for kid lunches

Check for milk cream etc

Dinner tomorrow?

//
ATTICUS babysitter 9am

Therapist appt tomorrow 11am

Run

Help Lo with application
//

Are all the things I’m doing ok?

Heart forever divided

So many drifting hearts

Bound up inside me

I’m scared

Like a wide eyed animal

I’m on top of the world

Like a wide eyed ghost.

//

http://www.thesweatspotla.com

//

It’s ok

Says my heartbeat

It’s ok

To want

To be unsatisfied

To be distracted

But

How many things are ok?

To write half heartedly?

To be a lazy creative?

Too linear

Too by the book

Is it ok

To be shy

To be direct?

What about 

Selfish?

Guarded?

Not guarded?

An open book.

“It’s all

OK,”

he said.

ALL CAPS.

Powerful.

Definitive.

“ITS OK.”

(A particular “he” said.)

(The proverbial “he” said.)

(They always say it, don’t they?)

 

I think we should

probably define

“ok” first

maybe.

//
Therapist Appt
-talk about weekend/ food issues/ JL issues

– BLA BLA BLA
//

Movies to see:

Interiors

Beginners

that movie about sugar neighbor talks about

 

//

 

peace is found

in subtlety

in paper thin

moons

in curb sitting

introspection

//

pay credit card before kids wake up

drop big kids 8:05

sign up B for art class 8:10

drop A 8:30

laundry 9:00

pop physique 9:45

deal with YMCA stuff 11 (maybe)

go to reservoir park, pay for soccer 12 ish

get turtle from erica 12:30

TJ 1-1:30

buy caroline tampons at lassens and drop them at 2

call and withdrawal from ucla 2:30

pick up A 3

give turtle to lindsey 3:15

get big kids 4:30

home

dinner with neighbors

baths yes no maybe… B def a shower at minimum

bed

 

 

Standard