cygnoir.net

cygnoir.net

swan not cat

and it is stupid to feel the way i feel but no feelings are stupid i heard once in therapy the time before the last time which was the first time unless we’re counting the time when i was in junior high and had to speak with a counselor about being assaulted but i’m not counting that time because i was terrified to say a thing to her i was mostly concentrating on the thick mole that grew from the corner of her mouth and how it wiggled when she looked at me with concerned big eyes

but it is stupid we have established this so let’s leave it alone put it on pause for now

there is so much stuff in my little room and no matter how much i straighten up throw things away reorganize it there is too much stuff and i wonder how easily i agreed to rent my place and i wonder if that was just an escape from what i was escaping from or if it was because it had DSL or if it was because i was tired of getting lost in greater marin or commuting ten miles over the course of an hour or longer

there are whole boxes of things that were technically mine but i do not recognize them anymore things that i never wanted to be mine things that do not reflect me and things that are not even detritus of a former life they are just things and pieces i do not recognize and broken-off plastic bits that don’t make any sense and if i could lift the fucking box it’d be gone by now

in the midst of cleaning last night greg emailed me subject line call me right now and wrote it is three o’clock my time you have fifteen minutes and it was so not-greg to demand a call that i called immediately and i got in the car with my headset as i do and i drove around and we talked and he made me laugh with stories about how his life is sucking because that is what greg does

next year i will have known him for twelve years next year we’ll be carousing at our friend dan’s wedding somewhere in the northeast and next year we’ll have the year we never thought we’d have with dan being properly married the one of the four of us who makes simultaneously the least and most sense

i cleaned and cleaned i shredded receipts i filed papers i shoved books into my poor lumpy bookshelves and after greg went to bed i thought about ice-skating and my head got full and soggy it was time to sleep i knew that but my palm wouldn’t sync and those fucking boxes are still there and then there is always the issue of laundry

there is always the issue of something or of something else

i have so many books that they are threatening to take over most of my room and sometimes i feel like i live in a pillow fort except made of books and i have my own door yet no doorbell but my SMS sounds like a doorbell and when people hear it they always ask what was that and i tell them i got a text message and they say but it sounds like a doorbell even if we are nowhere near a door or if we are outside

a lot of people looked at me strangely in ohio a lot more than i am used to in fact i positively blend in here in san francisco here in the land of pierced septums and inked elbows and unnatural haircolors and all that fashion i am used to blending in sneaky like ninja i am sneaky like ninja all in black but not too black just faded black like dusty pavement

and in ohio i was so strangely not myself although i was myself but then again someone else partially not entirely and i was with my family so that was a change when they all call me by a certain name and i forget to respond ohio is a place that reminds me of where i was born and where i escaped and this one guy in a cowboy hat on the day of the parade kept walking past me and glaring and i think that was his way of hitting on me because my stepmom and aunt tittered and said he likes you

the idea of someone liking me is logical but still largely unabsorbed by the rest of me i am more prone to think he was intrigued by a visual disturbance like one would scrutinize and maybe even obsess over the sight of a purple cat

i came back from ohio feeling like the buddha and end up this week feeling like king ludwig apropos because he was the swan king

but i am just a swan

a swan in need of a new nest and a heavy moult

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

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