{ 10 / 10 / 17 }

signal

wave across the water for me

let me know

that you'll be waiting ever for me

oh, i've been travelling

waiting for a moment of peace

these stormy weathers

got me thinking of how i want it to be

signal

light a thousand fires on me

give me no doubt

that i'm the one that never has to leave

oh, i've been divided

time and time again you keep the peace

give me shelter

let me be the (wo)man i wanted to be

//

everyone is in the back room taking their lunch and i'm sitting at my desk with a 140-calorie bag of popcorn and saint-saens in my headphones. somehow, even more things have to change.

//

at this stage, that seems like such an unlikely outcome.
but at this stage, any outcome would be as unlikely as the next.
what do you do when you really have no way of predicting an outcome?
you have no choice but to keep walking forward.
to watch the infrastructure of the future come together all around you.

i can't say i like it all that much, but the alternative is to stop moving until something seems certain...and i feel like the only certainty in life is that nothing is certain. ever.

i've had my time not to move.
and i don't want that anymore.

//

feeling many things in this season:
nothing is sure
nothing is forever
i can and should make choices that are healthy for me
^ people may not like how they are affected when i do so
   ^ that is not my problem
it is okay not to know
it is okay to let go
it is okay to say no
it is okay to let my true self show
i am stronger and deeper than anyone really knows
i can change and evolve; i don't have to stay the same
i might not be interesting enough for some people but that doesn't make me uninteresting
i might not be beautiful enough for some people but that doesn't make me ugly
i might be too interesting for some people but that doesn't mean i'm too much
i might be too much for some people but that doesn't make them bad people







//

embracing the new,
the fresh start,
the leaving what was,
the lack of knowing,
the exploration, the putting to rest, the discovery.

{ all for this / evolution }

what could you possibly tell me

that i don't already know?

oh. that's right. everything.

i used to think i knew the world. i used to think i knew myself. i used to think i knew things in general, things about things, things upon things about other things. it made me feel big and proud.

but i was insulated from the living sharpness of not knowing. i was tightly tucked away in a fist of oblivion.

--------------------

i thought i knew almost everything --- not everything about everything, but everything i needed to know. every grain of security i gathered only buried me further. i chose safety --- and suffocation.

because i'm resilient and resourceful, i learned to breathe the molecules of an environment in which i was never meant to thrive. the lining of my lungs calcified. my skin became impermeable. the muscles in my thighs shortened, drawing my knees to my chest.

--------------------

all along it didn't feel entirely right, but it also felt necessary. that's because there was no other way for me to get from my previous body, which had reached the end of its ability to adapt, to the brilliantly unfolding creature i am now.

all the regret, all the self-loathing, all the misdirected love, had to be wrung out of me.
all that poison.

--------------------

the bones that were broken
the skin twisted
the throat closed, the spine bent
all for this
evolution

{ amphibian she }

there's so much change lately. its iridescent film encircles every molecule in the atmosphere. it's hard to breathe now that the euphoria of something different (finally, something different) has worn off, but i can feel my lungs adapting. i'm turning into a new creature who belongs in this new world. i can tell that soon i'll be swimming effortlessly across the land, walking lightly across the bottom of the sea.

now you see me,
now you still see me
because being steadfast
is a mystery of its own.

---------------

attachments splay loosely in space, crackling sporadically like nerves recently severed. after the initial pain, so deep and stunning it feels like freezing from the inside, the peace comes. white cells rush the wound, what was open comes together. you have to move differently, compensate for skin that tightens as it closes. but keep moving, slowly. increase your range of motion. go further and further as you can. in time you will be as you were, almost exactly, save for the faint white puckering line that whispers every now and then of the old injury. remember then that as far in as the wound went, your healing went just as far. you'll never be new again, but who would want to be so eerily unmarked?

not me. not anymore.

----------------

one if by land, two if on shore

three if by sky, but if infinite, four ---

{ the beautiful unknown }

sometimes i ask myself, so what does survival look like anyway?

life is full of small things: a car insurance payment, a deposit, an overdue library book. and medium things: a new shirt i forgot i had, a fake engagement ring, cold hands, new rhythm. and big things: leaving what is past behind, digging my heels into the ground of now, holding the future as it should be held (not too tightly, not too lightly).

people keep saying have you lost weight? and is that a new outfit? and i guess i can't begrudge their curiosity; i am turning new, i am something else other than what i was, and if i barely know how to articulate the difference, how can i expect anyone else to put her finger on it? in my head i reply, you think this change is on the outside? and i smile to myself. i think my bemused countenance only perplexes them more.

but the world has never understood anyway. i'm moving away from being sad about this fact. very few people can really see. i tend to think i'm so easy to see, but one of my best friends told me this week that she doesn't think i'm an easy person to get to know. i was surprised! we spend hours together every week. but even to her, i am still a mystery.

so there is something untouchable about me even though i feel so accessible and exposed all the time. even to myself, i am still a mystery.

she