another saturday

and i'm feeling better.
probably because my birthday is on monday
and i'll be 21.
i feel old
but at the same time
this feels like an
opportunity
to really
grow
challenge myself
and
get my life back in motion.
my birthday gifts to myself were
moleskine notebooks and film.
hopefully i'll use them well
and begin to feel like
myself
again.

saturday morning ramblings

8am saturday morning lemon tea
i didn't sleep well
and i don't know if it's because i miss him
or i miss me

i cried last night reading my book
because i kept reliving similar moments we shared
how we met, how we acted, conversations we had, the uncertainty
each page left me more and more nostalgic
for what, i'm not sure

lounging around the apartment in nothing but comfort
trapping ourselves in a cage of limbs, or cigarettes, or cups of tea
shooing away the world in 5am smoke, darkness and quiet belonging to us
and us only
holding hands just to make sure we're still there, he's still there, still mine
avoiding serious questions, fragile
balancing a glass vase of emotions, fears, doubts, plans
and watching it gracefully fall
examining the shattered pieces, wondering if it will ever be the same
wondering if it'll ever be the same, if we can just glue it back together
and resigning to the purchase of a new vase, smaller but it still holds everything we need
still holds the same amount of love, stem by stem, each flower plucked when ready

9am and i'm not making sense
of these feelings and thoughts
never wanting to let go or leave the house
stagnant
waiting in vain for things to move themselves
reality
facing it to balance our lives, to welcome the future, to understand the ease with which we can protect vases and the truth that there will be other vases, infinite vases that may break or stay intact
and understanding that a book is a book, my life is not a book

i'm getting tired of vases
and i'm tired of the bland day to day motions of life i endure
i'm tired of sleeping alone
and waking up
alone
of feeling constantly alone even when i'm not

[i miss being alive.]

i am lonely.
i am falling apart.
i am dull
aging blade.
i am forgetting how to speak, walk, live
wake up.

i am drinking lemonade and feeling sad.

it's funny how so much can change in a week, a day, a weekend...
and funnier still how so much hasn't changed at all.
still can sip beer together on a couch, get high and make a trip for falafel, talk and watch nonsense over cigarettes...
but then again, it's only been a few days. who knows what will happen.
---
the loneliness i always feel has gently increased.
i feel i have nowhere to go, nothing to do.
i'm taking up space, becoming furniture.
furniture in no one's home,
the sort of furniture you see on the curb, in someone's front yard, forgotten in the back of a thrift store.
i'm not meant for jobs or school or any sort of success or motivation.
i'm meant for people to forget about until i'm proven useful, like a chair.
i'm driving myself insane
because there's nothing else to do.