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Name: Julia
Country: United States
State: District of Columbia
Metro: Washington D.C.
Birthday: 6/16/1985
Gender: Female
Interests: tea from a pot, gin from the bottle, mystery from You.
Expertise: scamping
Occupation: Security Guard
Message: message me
Member Since:
3/12/2005
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| making peacei have abandoned my blog, and my parents, and my religion, and my pennsylvania license plates. i am not fixed upon anything except the half-hearted pursuit of my own stability. this is not quite where i want to be, except it is, because what i want most is to ease the burden of my own expectation, and in doing this, i rejoice. i accept this bedroom, and the police cars bleeding red and blue outside, and the shock of realizing i don't know or care half as much as i used to. and the way my hair looks when i first get up in the morning. | | |
| i can't telltonight i sat in the orange chair on the porch and watched the rain fall out of the bird-bath and listened to John tell me about how in Spanish class they were discussing estar, which is to be temporarily, and the example was that it has to be estoy triste because no one is sad forever and then someone raised their hand and asked what about depression? | | |
| Queen Anne's lace nodding along the side of the road. Cardboard boxes caving into themselves under so much stacking weight. The stringed instrument sliding catch of a voice that hesitates in speaking. If it means anything to You, sustain me through this starving moment, give me something gentle to rest in. | | |
| hope is around the corner, sure / but i have not reached that corner, sirsadness, deep high and wide in the space where we used to meet, pushes out and against, drives stuck things deeper and fans us spread away farther from help than we can stand. sometimes i believe myself to be more scared of the alienation that comes with grief than with that twisting pain itself.
(if i don't write it down, it isn't true) has kept me staring without words, with the intention of forgetting this and more, as soon as i can spring up from this crouching weakness, towards flight.
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| those who do not drown can live and speak of their rescuing, and God, with wet, widened eyes.on the drive up to Pennsylvania, just before exit 38, i caught spray painted words on the bridge overhead: IT CAN GET BETTER
start your pen (your life, when it dries out sometimes), with furious circles.
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