A blog about whatever randomosity my fevered mind conceives.

A day in the life…

I’m in a very retrospective mood today; I’m like that sometimes; and after digging through some older stuff, I feel like sharing something with you wonderful people that I have never shared with anyone else before. I am not submitting the following as a poem, but more as a deep look at the inner workings of a  sometimes unstable, occasionally brilliant, and often peculiar mind.

Let me explain a little. When I wrote ‘An unwilling affair with poetry…’ I said (and I quote) “It’s basically like I’ve kept a journal of my life in verse.” I wasn’t exaggerating. I have an entire binder full of these strange exercises I call ‘Days in the life” that read very much like rhyming diary entries. The first one I wrote when I was only about nine or so, and the most recent is from about two weeks ago.

They come into creation when my mind is racing over too many things to give me any kind of clarity, when I’m in a heightened emotional state, and/or when I find myself suffering a bout of writer’s block. Basically I sit down behind my keyboard, (or with pen and paper, though I find lately that my penmanship has gone completely to hell) and I let everything and anything currently in my mind, out. One thought bleeds into the next so quickly that they don’t always make sense looking back, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the process itself works like an enema for the brain; a mind colonic if you will; and once I’m done I almost always find it easier to focus.

The ‘Day in the life’ I am about to share was written during a very pivotal stage in my life, and good or bad, it is my favorite page in the book. It was the summer of 2006, about a year after I suffered from a pretty major breakdown of sorts. I was actually in a state of healing at this point and coming to appreciate who I was for the first time in my life. I had just split from my longtime boyfriend and was playing with the idea that maybe… just maybe… dating women would be a saner choice for me. (That wasn’t destined to work out, since I like the boy parts, but I wasn’t perfectly clear on that fact until a girl who’d been showing a lot of interest tried to kiss me and I burst into the most inappropriate, insensitive and completely immature fit of giggles. Fortunately, she forgave me for being such a spazz, and we remain friends to this day.) It was also the first time in my life that I was truly free to deal with my own mind, my own thoughts, my own wants and my own needs without the constant annoyance of other people’s unsolicited advice, opinion and interference.

I know that my process is likely very different than most (and might even seem a little crazy) and I would love to know what other people do to work through their own internal madness and mental blockages. If you’d like share, I invite you to do so.

Anyway, without further ado…

____________________________________________

A Day in the Life…

Sitting at the coffee house again… warm breeze, hot sun; nowhere to be.

Feeling stimulated; pulse strumming, breath short; desiring something I can’t quite see.

I should be writing, but my mind is racing, and there’s debris in my creative flow,

I think I’ll just let the crazy spill out; let my brain go where it wants to go.

I’m thinking of him again; ugh, I hate that. I really do want to detach.

I wish I could go back in time –before all this– and start again from scratch.

Thoughts of her now too; that makes me smile, though I’m not quite sure it is from joy.

I’m really not certain how to proceed there… what comes next? Continue playing coy?

Flirty glances from that blonde again. He’s always here and rather cute.

I smile back, somewhat timidly, but I’ll just continue playing mute.

So much curiosity in strangers; I think they wonder what I write.

If I could see myself through their eyes, would I gain wisdom from that sight?

It’s strange to love the words so much, and yet struggle so to make them gel.

It’s stranger still to love the mystery, in all the things that I won’t tell.

Thoughts of him; I wonder if he’s smiling. I wonder if he thinks of me.

I hope his day is going well… why is it so hard to set him free?

I dream of him too often; ugh. And what’s this curiosity about the girl?

One I love, the other… hmm… can’t wait to see that page unfurl.

Craving contact, yet… I’m finding I rather like this solitude.

Smiles from the blonde again… feign ignorance… does he think I’m being rude?

Doesn’t matter, I suppose, I have no time for someone new.

I don’t need random connection… I need to figure out what I’m supposed to do.

What is true to me right now –myself, and nothing more?

Self-discovery needs to be the only thing I bother to make time for.

Caffeine overdose… goddamn, I really do need to cut down.

So bored here, and uninspired… I need to leave this fucking town.

I close my eyes and dream of somewhere far away.

I open them again; I can’t live in dreams and still enjoy this day.

Ah, but I am a curious beast, even within my own mind.

Never ceases to amaze me… these new fragments that I find.

Where once it was I found change scary, and I fought just to be still,

it seems that now I’m craving newness and enjoying my freewill.

While variation once made me antsy, and in new faces I found fear,

I hunger now for something different… something yet to be made clear.

Mmmm… that breeze feels so nice. It’s like bathing in liquid sun.

I think I should go out tonight… I deserve a little fun.

I need to take another trip soon, to go be near to the sea.

I wonder how long I can survive in my own strange company.

Laughing silently again, I keep letting my mind drift.

It seems like every time I clutch a thought, there is some sudden shift.

I kind of like that though, at least in some small way.

I think it means I’m growing maybe, and that I’ll be okay.

It occurs to me to wonder, what the hell am I scribbling out?

I twist my lips into that expression that so many call a pout.

It’s just self-discovery. I smile. That I write at all, is what means most.

I raise my cup, and tilt slightly in a private little toast.

I’m learning lately in my solitude, that I actually like myself;

all these strange and curious aspects that sat too long upon a shelf.

I know some people think I’ve lost my mind, but that’s okay with me.

I kind of wish they’d all fuck off, and simply let me be.

That’s the craziest thing I think; that I no longer need validation.

All I really want and need is to enjoy this liberation.

I’ve spent a lot of time lately, concentrating on who I am, and why that’s good,

and I’ve decided it doesn’t matter much, that I’ve been misunderstood.

In fact, I’ve recently discovered that these things I used to hide,

are all the qualities I like most… I smile now; sinful pride.

I like the way that I stay loyal, even if others can’t be true.

I like that when I love, its total, and I hope I always do.

I like the passion in my spirit, even when it makes me cry.

I like that I can be so stubborn, and that beauty always makes me sigh.

I like that I can be so odd, and that I almost always stand apart.

I fought too long to just fit in, but what a waste of heart.

Let them bow down, if they see fit, it’s no longer meant for me.

With brand new eyes, I look around, so hungry now to see.

That blonde again, (is it Sebastian?) he stares way too damn much.

He is quite pretty; I’ll give him that; but my interest he can’t touch.

Truth be told, though I am single, someone still owns my heart,

and part of me; though I don’t need it; thinks we’ll have another start.

I will deal with that, when the time’s right, and for now I’ll stay alone.

I’ll take a little time for myself, until a clear path has been shown.

All that really matters now is that I do for me what’s right.

I have to be so careful that I don’t stall my heart in flight,

but let it free, to love at will, to lead me where it may.

Try to govern love with reason, and it will always run astray.

Better to be passionate, even when it leads to pain,

than trying to control emotions, until I am insane.

New thought; I like that and the wisdom I just found.

I sigh and listen for a moment to all the mingled sounds.

The day keeps moving fluidly… and I’m so caught in the spin.

For once I think I finally get it; it doesn’t matter if I win.

It’s that I live, not just to exist, but that I savour every treat.

I think if I keep that in mind, that I can never know defeat.

To be the center of my own world means many different things…

it makes me feel as though I’m fluttering, with new, unsettled wings.

____________________________________________

P.S. If I have time later, I’ll post the poem that this little mental breakthrough inspired.

At any rate…

… good or bad, right or wrong, inspiring or completely bats-in-the-belfry insane… thanks for stopping by my own private universe

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15 responses

  1. Dig the self-awareness and discovery and vulnerability of this intro and writing. Well done!!!

    Pete

    February 22, 2012 at 2:07 am

    • Thanks Pete!!!

      February 22, 2012 at 10:52 am

  2. Wow! That really touched a chord in somewhere in my heart.

    “The curiosity in strangers” has always bugged me. Somehow they think that if you’re at a coffee house, sitting alone, and writing whatever, then you need to be occasionally gawked at. x_X Hate hate, hate it! But at least you have cute guys looking at you! I always have really weird 40-year old corporates eyeing me. Like obese, sweating, and with absolutely no sense of posture.

    Self is discovery is something everyone’s striving for, the question in time becomes where does it end? When do you truly know who are? Isn’t it more of a never ending road that in time, you’ll just have to learn to adjust with the rest of the aspects of life?

    Okay, I could write a whole essay on every aspect of this poem so I’m gonna shut up now and just say that the poem was – AWESOME! 🙂

    P.S. “It seems like every time I clutch a thought, there is some sudden shift.” – My favorite line. 😛

    February 22, 2012 at 6:30 am

    • lol ya… I have a built in ‘weirdo’ magnet myself… its rare that I’m lucky enough to gain the attention of someone that doesn’t make me want to hide under a table. I won’t even use public transportation anymore since every time I do, some nut who smells like pee wants to touch and/or sniff my hair… ewwwww!
      And ya, self discovery is a constantly ongoing thing… it never ends. I’m continuously finding out new things about myself… some I like, some I love… some…. well… some things I learn about myself are about as attractive as that stinky pee guy on the bus.
      I’m really glad you liked it, but I personally don’t look at these as real poems… mostly because they’re so raw and rough and lack in any proper structure… I don’t even edit them before they go in the book… but they do rhyme, haha.
      And not being able to hold a thought is the story of my damn life!!! I have hope that one day I WILL evolve to the point where I have a little more control over my own mind, but until then, I remain forever lost in the chaos of my brain.

      February 22, 2012 at 11:07 am

      • Haha. I understand. Public transport for me involves a lot of my butt get pinched, which I went out and bought a scooter for myself. NO MORE ASS ABUSE. XD

        Self discovery is pretty awesome which is why I’m so glad to FINALLY be single now. All me me me. 😛 And truth be told, most the of the things I’m finding out about you, I LOVE! 😀

        The raw-ness of the poems is what makes them so amazing! Not every poem is meant to be perfectly structured. Some of them are meant to be raw to be amazing. 😛

        Thoughts bouncing around in my head is precisely why I carry a pen and notebook where I go. I never know when I’ll think of something useful, and if I don’t write it down, I know I’ll forget it for sure!

        Here’s to hoping for control! 😛

        February 22, 2012 at 11:37 am

      • lol gotta love public transport – it’s not at all scary! (note the sarcasm :p)
        And ya, everyone deserves to take some time now and then to be utterly, unabashedly selfish. If we can’t give ourselves enough time and energy, we can’t really be free to share ourselves with others.
        I like that you love what you see in me, because I know that I love what I see in you… it’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship!
        And yes, you’re completely right about not all poetry needing to be perfectly structured, its just that when I write my ‘Days in the life’ I am not thinking of them as poetry. Why I even choose to rhyme them I’ve never been entirely certain. And I agree that some of the best poems I’ve ever read have been raw… I like to say “truth is in the writing, lies are in the editing”.
        I also always carry pen and paper wherever I go and on those rare occasions when I’ve found myself without writing implements, I’ve begged and borrowed the nearest pen, crayon, pencil; whatever; and scribbled the thoughts down on napkins, placemats, my arms (haha seriously)… whatever I can get my hands on. Nothing is worse then losing a thought entirely because you didn’t scribble it down somewhere along the way, even the only half-good thoughts.
        And ‘CHEERS’ to you finding control! I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for you.

        February 22, 2012 at 11:47 am

      • Public transports the best! 😛

        I haven’t been self centered in ages. MY TURN NOW! *evil world conquering laugh*

        How can anyone NOT love you? 😛 A beautiful friendship it is! 😛

        The rhyming is very cute. I quite like it! 😛 “Truth is in the writing, lies are in the editing” Love it, thought I have to say that I edit quite a bit. But always keep the originals just in case I change my mind later. 😛

        I completely know what you mean! I went to a pizza parlour and this amazing line came into my head. I literally had to beg them to let me borrow the pen for 5 mins so that I could write it down. Assholes asked for it in precisely 5 mins. I mean really! Customer care’s fallen so miserably.

        I’ll be keeping mine crossed for you! 🙂 ❤

        February 22, 2012 at 12:01 pm

      • OMG I edit WAY too much, which is where the saying came from in the beginning. The first draft is always so pure and honest and without restraint, but to make it digestible for the masses, we whittle it down to its barest bones and then reconstruct it with decorative padding. Like you though, I always keep my originals and often they remain my favourite drafts.
        HAHA and ya… customer care has gone down the drain. I mean really? What does a pen cost? Five cents? What did he think you were going to do with it? Better yet… why did he care so damn much, lol.
        I was once so desperate that I put out my smoke and used the charred end to write on the inside of my cigarette pack… that’s sad.

        February 22, 2012 at 12:07 pm

      • The originals always have so potential. You can always turn them into many other version. One I had this poem, that once I edited it actually turned into three very distinct poems. Lol.

        I have no idea what his love affair for the pen was, but I did give him dirt’s for being so clingy! 😛

        We can do that with cigarettes? I have never actually tried. Hmm. Something for next time I guess. 😛 I think the most abstract thing I’ve ever done is use my eye liner.. But I don’t think that’s very special.. I think I originally saw someone doing it inna movie. Lol.

        February 22, 2012 at 12:14 pm

      • lol I’ve used my eyeliner too… on my skin and on a mirror. And warning; cigarette char is NOT the most legible thing in the world… but it will work in a pinch. These days I always have my cell with me, so I can leave myself notes or send myself emails… so helpful.
        Ohhh and I do that too… write different versions of the same poem. Some of my poems come from songs I make up when I’m doing housework or something… I’ll scribble them down and than turn them from song to poetry. ‘Baby I’m Sorry’ was one of those. And sometimes I even write the same poem from different perspectives… just for fun.

        February 22, 2012 at 12:20 pm

      • Aah. Cell phones are the best. My drafts folder has all kinds of weird musing in it. 😛

        Ooo. Same poem from different perspectives.. I like that approach. I might try it out some time. I’m sure I’ll screw it up though. Lol.

        February 22, 2012 at 12:26 pm

      • I’m sure you won’t. Its as easy as taking a real situation that you’re dealing with and writing it from a step or two back… like how you did with ‘Alan. It’s over.’

        February 22, 2012 at 12:30 pm

      • Ooo. To be tried soon. 😛

        February 22, 2012 at 12:31 pm

      • I look forward to reading what create!

        February 22, 2012 at 12:33 pm

  3. Pingback: Freaking Out « My Own Private Universe

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