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