Yearning, Burning, Yearning Feeling Inside Me.
It's my second post. Let us rejoice and be glad.
Currently, I am in the process of illegally (shhh, don't tell) burning CD's as the now ex and I have extensive and enviable music collections. There are some CD's that only one of us bought because we were, of course, going to be together forever. I've decided that I'm not going to use that phrase ever in my next relationship. It's like mentally tatooing the name of your beloved to the upper-arm of your soul and creates too much pressure and expectation.
At any rate, the whole ripping/burning/writing/organizing of said now seperate music collections is taking far too long. As is the division of socks, the packing of boxes, and the organizing of the kitchen sans microplane and blender. I do get to keep the grater I just found out. With all of this mundane activity I'm kinda yearning for the desperate, melodramatic activity that immediately followed the break-up. At least that was more interesting, the only interesting part right now is getting high off the sharpie fumes.
I just finished the wonderful Best of Morphine disc for her.
I continue to be struck by how much possessions mean in my life. The physical space surrounding me and how my feelings are affected when that physical space changes. I did live in the same house continually until I was 18 years old and during breaks from college. Don't even get me started on my feelings about the places and spaces around my good ole Cleveland where I spent all my life before seminary. I could go on forever.
Yesterday I found out my totem animal might be a skunk. I seem pretty skunky according to the description in the book, but I think I'd have to look more carefully into it before I made a definitive affirmation that I am, indeed, a skunk. Do skunks have a thing with space?
I also found out what it feels like to be in a train wreck yesterday. A literal train wreck. The Metra I was traveling on hit a dump truck yesterday. I wasn't feeling freaked out about this yesterday, but now that I've had some distance from the whole thing I'm feeling a little shaken by what could have been possible and wary about getting on another train. All and all it didn't feel like anything much, just a hard lurch forward and then some indeterminable waiting until we all figured out that an El train was like 2 blocks away. There was a mass exodus from the metra to the El. The station attendent looked bewildered and taken aback by the onslaught of people.
Wow, I'm being really verbose today. After this weekend I need to buckle down and use my verbosity to finish two incomplete papers. And transform my space into my space which requires no verbosity, just patience and a broom.
Currently, I am in the process of illegally (shhh, don't tell) burning CD's as the now ex and I have extensive and enviable music collections. There are some CD's that only one of us bought because we were, of course, going to be together forever. I've decided that I'm not going to use that phrase ever in my next relationship. It's like mentally tatooing the name of your beloved to the upper-arm of your soul and creates too much pressure and expectation.
At any rate, the whole ripping/burning/writing/organizing of said now seperate music collections is taking far too long. As is the division of socks, the packing of boxes, and the organizing of the kitchen sans microplane and blender. I do get to keep the grater I just found out. With all of this mundane activity I'm kinda yearning for the desperate, melodramatic activity that immediately followed the break-up. At least that was more interesting, the only interesting part right now is getting high off the sharpie fumes.
I just finished the wonderful Best of Morphine disc for her.
I continue to be struck by how much possessions mean in my life. The physical space surrounding me and how my feelings are affected when that physical space changes. I did live in the same house continually until I was 18 years old and during breaks from college. Don't even get me started on my feelings about the places and spaces around my good ole Cleveland where I spent all my life before seminary. I could go on forever.
Yesterday I found out my totem animal might be a skunk. I seem pretty skunky according to the description in the book, but I think I'd have to look more carefully into it before I made a definitive affirmation that I am, indeed, a skunk. Do skunks have a thing with space?
I also found out what it feels like to be in a train wreck yesterday. A literal train wreck. The Metra I was traveling on hit a dump truck yesterday. I wasn't feeling freaked out about this yesterday, but now that I've had some distance from the whole thing I'm feeling a little shaken by what could have been possible and wary about getting on another train. All and all it didn't feel like anything much, just a hard lurch forward and then some indeterminable waiting until we all figured out that an El train was like 2 blocks away. There was a mass exodus from the metra to the El. The station attendent looked bewildered and taken aback by the onslaught of people.
Wow, I'm being really verbose today. After this weekend I need to buckle down and use my verbosity to finish two incomplete papers. And transform my space into my space which requires no verbosity, just patience and a broom.
posted by Hildegardian at 11:49 AM
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