My Rediscovery of Me

• A warm apartment
• A never-ending pot of amazing coffee
• A date

I feel great.

I expected this trip to stress me out. I imagined scenarios that would break me. I thought I’d be so uncomfortable.

But I’m happy. I feel surrounded by love.

I met up with two friends from high school, and I had an amazing time.

I feel rested. I’ve had great food. I’ve laughed so much with my brothers — even while getting my ass kicked in Monopoly.

I feel great.

More later.

This Lipton commercial makes me question being a pescetarian.

I’ve been up for a while taking stock of some of my stuff. I’m ready to let some of it go. I put a list up at myrediscoveryofme.com/declutter. Let me know if you would like something from the list and we’ll try to make it happen.

I got sick of the old design.

So I picked a new one.

Even after years of immersing myself into all sorts of poetry and writing and art, my favorite poem is still Choices by Nikki Giovanni.

I don’t think a day goes by that I am not applying this poem’s message to my thoughts and actions.

If i can’t do
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don’t want
to do
It’s not the same thing
but it’s the best i can
do

If i can’t have
what i want . . . then
my job is to want
what i’ve got
and be satisfied
that at least there
is something more to want

Since i can’t go
where i need
to go . . . then i must . . . go
where the signs point
through always understanding
parallel movement
isn’t lateral

When i can’t express
what i really feel
i practice feeling
what i can express
and none of it is equal
I know
but that’s why mankind
alone among the animals
learns to cry

I’ve reverted to a theme I used when this blog first started (a year ago!). I’ve been looking to make a change for a while now and decided to go back to my initial theme choice. For now. I have a few problems with it (and that’s why I originally stopped using it), so it may not be around for long. If you feel strongly either way, let me know. Thanks!

I must be an outcast for a reason
But no one is around to help me look

And

I have no friends
Yet, I live

–

This is how I have been feeling lately.

I am a bundle of contradictions and
false truths
who is here in this
moment
simply because I exist
And maybe that doesn’t make sense
but maybe also it proves my point.

–

I wrote this a week or so ago. I have NO IDEA what it means, but I wrote it.

–
Addendum: I am at O’Hare airport in Chicago, after a day full of airline headaches.

I was at Poetic Justice yesterday, and though I had not planned on reading anything, I did — after a little egging on by Cynthia, a poet/writer/wonderful person I adore.

As usual, I prefaced my reading by saying I was not a poet and that the things I wrote are only “fragments” or random thoughts I have had in my life.

I read:

I speak of silence
the way you speak of
orgasms

with a burning longing
that burdens me

And:

We shared a muffled silence
in relative proximity to
each other’s inner fears

And:

Months of waking before the sun
has clouded my thoughts on the
importance
of time’s relationship
to perception

And:

We went to the end of the road

I listened
as he told of the crush he’s had from the time we were in fifth grade and
I called him a doody head

Ashamed I’d never seen him in this light,
I set down my book of poetry
and met his lips with mine

I fell in love
not with him
but with the moment and its surprising insight
I had found home

Later, driving back,
I kissed his neck
and he, staring at the passing pine trees in an attempt to keep his eyes open,
whispered
I never knew there were so many shades of green

At the end of the night, I recited this Andrea Gibson poem:

Also last night: I met a very spiritual man who made me question a lot. I opened up to him very easily — which surprised me — and, though I don’t agree with everything he said and don’t think I could change his mind on anything, I enjoyed the conversation. I felt as if I had known him for years. That doesn’t happen often with me.

I have never felt so blessed and empowered by my experiences.

–

Addendum: Last night, I took some art supplies to the coffee shop. I drew a bigger version of my interconnected-arrows thing. I don’t know why I was drawing it, but by the time I was done I wanted to throw it away. Ahmin, who owns the shop with his family, said he wanted it if I didn’t. He then walked into the bathroom and taped it to the wall.