it's very hard to explain to people that haven't lived out where i live that it stands perfectly still sometimes... time, light space, all of it.

and i was driving in my father's car over the bridge, over that same fucking bridge i have to have crossed thousands and thousands of times, when the needle began to sway.

down and up and back again. the speedometer wasn't reading anything. zero miles per hour.

and i noticed around me there wasn't a thing. not a car, not a bird, not any bug rain or tail lights ahead or behind me. and i was going zero miles per hour.

i turned into my neighborhood after the bridge and it didn't budge. still no sound. light. sights. down the street i cruised, and it's a hilly little place, up and down i would go... zero. no wind shook the trees. grass in the fields straight as arrows. zero miles.

and i had one of those thoughts, those twilight zone minutes, where i thought to myself maybe i wasn't moving at all. maybe when the speedometer hit zero on the bridge i'd actually gone off the side and was now dead, heading in the intended trajectory to home but it had all really stopped when i died in a car wreck.

but i was in purgatory now, or a ghost, or whatever you think could happen when you die.

going zero miles an hour with nothing, no one, not a single notion of movement around me.

finally, on my street a car passed. the speedometer jumped back to 34 MPH.

and like the bells i heard when i was dying, the wreck wasn't real and i was almost home. i have dreamed of dying, falling off that bridge, dozens of times if not more. in haste and anger, wondered who the hell would care if i did drive off the side, but i am never (a) brave or (b) stupid enough to actually do it.

i have that thought though, sometimes, that if i were in an awful accident would (insert applicable name here) even come and see me? would they care? i don't think that's weird. i think it's a test.

i always seem to relate to songs about films, or with film things in them. moving pictures, silent films. saint augustine. motion picture soundtrack.

Red wine and sleeping pills
Help me get back to your arms
Cheap sex and sad films
Help me get where I belong

I think youre crazy, maybe
I think youre crazy, maybe

Stop sending letters
Letters always get burned
It's not like the movies
They fed us all little white lies

I think youre crazy, maybe
I think youre crazy, maybe

I will see you in the next life.

i think i'm crazy, maybe. started mirtazapine again. stoned 24/7. it will get better, i know it. my depression manifests itself in intolerance, irritation, annoyance. i don't get sad. i get bitter.

i wonder why it is; to me i am normal. this is my state. happiness is a relative term. i'm a martyr for my love for you. whatever it takes. stronger, you'll see.

i have the most beautiful wonderful child in the world and if ever i were to think i didn't have a good life, at the center of it rotates my betty, and i could not entertain the notion of bridge diving for a second. put it on paper i have divinity. sometime maybe i think that's what i try and shake up. that i have it good; i don't deserve it all and so i stir the pot. i've lived so long with chaos i don't know how to acclimate without it around me.

i've said that other people i know have that issue but i think i might too. i think all of us do a little tiny bit.

on a much much lighter note i went to see new kids on the block and have to say that i had a fucking great time. i went with my sister and our neighbor growing up. we had our own girl group when we were kids called 'homegirls' and we re-wrote the lyrics to NKOTB songs to reflect our feelings for the new kids. and we made them a tape and gave it to them when i was probably 12. how embarrassing. anyway, now that we're in better financial positions, i got us these badass tickets, and i couldn't believe how much fun we had. we were 8 rows back, and at the end of the show i was front row joe. for real. NOTHING but a few metal bars between me and the boys of my prepubescent fantasies. dare i say i probably came a little bit? i couldn't myself believe the dancing that ensued that night, even though it was slightly alcohol induced. the bar was way too close to our section. ah, sweet love of the stoli vanilla and coke.

alas, i am home indefinitely now, nothing on the books. the first week was fun, this one is starting to drag, and things keep coming between me and the next job. maybe that's why i can't establish normacy, because it simply doesn't exist in ANY facet of my life. and as off balance as that makes me, i have to say, it probably makes me quite a bit of what i am.

crazy, maybe.