love her.

uncertainty

a part of the universal unconscious?

or a family gene

passed on like hips

and the deeply rooted shame

i see her rarely

this familial stranger

our similiarities still sting

much too much

although attempting to maintian balance

her hair whispers of drowning

it is her own glaze she is pouring

and i

i choose uninvolvment

its the best that i can do

to eat bitterness

with awareness

to deny in silence

these are the untaught lessons of our childhood

and they are too obvious

to see each other regularly

i have always needeed my sleep. more important still, i need my dreams; they feed me and when i am deprived, i feel the loss and get grumpy. thinking along this topic i reminisced on my favorite recent dream and just had to share, enjoy.

first off is who i was with, and that my friend was sarah palin. and it wasn't one of those dreams where i didn't know who the person was, i knew it was sarah palin and what that entailed. but i didn't speak ill to her, i didn't question her moral values and or intelligence, instead i went to a rick astley concert with her. so we hung out and stuff listened to rick astley play and all the while i never questioned why i was with her. i even thought "oh she's not so bad as long as she has no stake in foreign or domestic affairs". then after the concert we went to her house (this was before the interview she did with i dont remember who where he went to her house to eat salmon casserole so i didnt know yet what her house would look like) and it looked suprisingly like an office hallway

so we go to her house and she is holding her baby, what's his name trig, track? one of the two- so she is holding her baby and saying "doesn't my baby look like me" and i'm like "uh, um, no" in my head im thinking "what the fuck lady this baby has downs syndrome how the hell can it look like you, a non-downs sydrome individual?" but i don't say all that i just say "no". so we converse a little more and then i wake up.

no big revelation, no lesson learned or meaningful subtext, just sarah palin and i, her downs syndrome baby, and a rick astley concert. just a dream.

a dream i needed.

even in times of alphabet adorned walls and lunchpails emitting rotting milk, even then i knew. before i had been told of loss and mourning, i knew it-

i knew it.

i always loved the sad songs. they rang familiar to my being; before i knew the words, i knew them. they were a part of me. transfered over from prior existence and rooted in my senses, it was a deeper knowing than pronouns and subtraction, it was innate and beautiful. as a child my fantasies were of heartache. of a love so strong, that it had to be unrequited and gaping. it proved to serve me harm in life. myself and those involved. i just couldnt hold on to happiness. it had to be those sad sad songs

for it to touch me.

i apologize to the injuries in my trail. my intentions were only directed at myself. im learning though, to hear those songs and smile, and yearn for only a moment. i then turn and bask in the beauty of possibility. of a range of emotions and levels of intimacy that no longer have their hinges in

threat and fear.

maybe it is due to the fact that i was raised watching technicolor spectacles with the likes of doris day, fred astaire, and ginger rogers . or possibly the alcoholic household (and subsequent gene) naturally fed into the escapism of the world of song and dance. or maybe it was jsut destiny meets disney. whatever the reason, i absolutely love musicals of any and all kinds. i just love them. it doesn't even really matter what the content, if there is singing and or dancing, i'm there. if only i were kidding. brad found this out the hard way during an enhtusiastic viewing on my part of grease 2. i'm currently secretly hoping that one of my neices will want to see the high school musical movie just so i can have an excuse to go see it. i never really had an interest in the high school music phenom, i was just watching harry potter on the disney channel the other day and they started playing songs from the movie. and like i said, start playing a song with that voice flucuation and im nearly guarenteed to be hooked. commercial jingles get me too, its just how i roll. if i had my way my life would be a musical, with discussions of cat problems and grocery lists sang and choreographed. but alas, such is not my life. the closest i have come to a living musical is my work. alex and i start singing the moment our boss leaves. there is not a thing we can't set a song to. the only thing missing is grand finale with the enitre cast; that culmination is sorely lacking. but, i guess i will take what i can get.

no day but today....