norfolk, va --> charlotte, nc
charlotte, nc --> san francisco, ca
san francisco, ca --> medford, or

from there a short drive south to mt. shasta, ca.

begin sequence in... oh, i dunno. THREE AND A HALF HOURS?!?!?!

i need some sleep.

i don't know why i'm such a sucker for philip glass, but i am. and i am so so glad amc is showing the 1931 dracula with his 1999 score right now. i won't say the music makes it a better film, but it makes it different. and incredible. and yes, you can feel the 68-year difference, but what gap can't be bridged by a string quartet?

less than five days. i'm digging in my heels but time drags me along. i can feel my brain stalling. fear/excitement/fear/excitement/fear/excitement/fear/excitement/fear.

if i think about it too much i panic.

so i'll try not to.

i mean, there really is no reason to panic.

no reason to panic.

























PANIC PANIC PANIC.

oh, yeah, and i'm lonely too. i miss being in a relationship, i miss kissing, i miss fucking and making love, i miss sharing experiences and jokes, i miss being so deep in love that it makes me irrational and needy and desperate but blissful and without a care, i miss feeling accepted and cared for. i miss a whole lot of things.

but, curse the gods of time and space, there is no room for that in my life at the moment. right?

MUST SOLDIER ON. did i say that already? i feel like i have. fucking head of the department of redundancy department over here.

munch.

I realize that the dawn
when we'll meet again
will never break,

so I give it up,
little by little, this love.

But something in me laughs
as I say this, someone

shaking his head and chuckling
softly, Hardly, hardly

-- Rumi

i hate feeling this way but i'm sucking it up like nectar, getting fat and humming with the pleasure and pride of a true glutton. i'm licking my greasy fingers and words fall out of my mouth, dribble down my chin, stain my shirt. it's painful and i can feel the pain growing, a shadow late in the day, cooling and calming but looming with the threat of a darker dark, an impossible, inescapable, inevitable night. god i'm sick with metaphors, this always happens. there's nothing else to do, anyways.

(i've been sleeping on the couch; i like it because it feels like someone is sleeping next to me. i wish they were.)

NINE DAYS UNTIL I LEAVE. i might have a panic attack. i'm grossly underprepared, to the point that i'm worried i'll disappoint my host and make things uncomfortable. i know i shouldn't worry so much, it'll take some adjustment but i'll be fine. and this will be fun and exciting OH MY GOD am i excited.

it's been four years (!!!) since i've graduated high school and moved down the street from my parents and i'm terrified and thrilled to be making such a change. not only in lifestyle but in terrain! my fucking heart beats faster when i think about having mountains on the horizon again, when i think about craning my neck to see the swaying tops of pine trees and when i think about floating by myself in the middle of an alpine lake my fucking body tingles. to be a part of the earth again! (fuck i miss the desert.)

i've been spending too much time by myself, not doing anything. this weekend i made no progress, didn't move or pack or clean a thing (except maybe a dish or two and a cup for whiskey). i'm ok with this because the naps have been phenomenal, and i've gotten to spend quality time with my brain on fucking autopilot, real life dripping and sliding off it like water off a duck's back. fucking bliss, but it's coming to an end. it has to.

officially less than two weeks until my departure. i am slowly taking apart my home, steadily dusting and dividing and sneezing, but conquering. boxes and bags of stuff and trash have gone their respective ways, with still more to go. hopefully i can finish up tomorrow. i say hopefully because i am a bum and a filthy procrastinator.

hank is gone. it's lonely without him following me from room to room, waiting for me on the other side of every door, purring. fredo and hildegard could care less about his absence, i think. more power to them. won't be long until they have a new home, too, and then it'll be me, all by myself. true solitude for the first time in, i don't know, ages. weird.

so much to do.

Moon, 2009.

i said fuck eight or something times in that last post. i remember a teacher telling me once that curse words were for people who weren't smart enough to know how to express their feelings in an intelligent manner. well thanks a lot, teach, now i've got a complex.

i just put an ad up on craigslist to give away my cats. i'm breaking my heart. the act of giving away these LIVING BEINGS! i love so much seems so backwards and foreign, what the fuck am i doing? i know it's what i'm supposed to do, but fuck. i feel like a monster. i don't ever, EVER want to do this again. it will be a long time before i let another one of those furry little fuckers into my heart.

i'm finding this a hundred times more fucking difficult and heart-wrenching than that time i broke up with my first-love first-fuck live-in boyfriend of almost four years. even then i felt a glimmer of hope, but not now. now all i see is a deep dark lonely blackness, devoid of soft little kitten paws and warmth and unconditional love and cat nip binges and biscuit-making on my thighs. the thought of never again hearing hildegard's bird purr or fredo's motor purr or hank's weird snore-whistle purr BREAKS MY FUCKING HEART.

i'm a goddamn baby.

maybe it's guilt? they depend on me and they can't understand my intentions, they don't know that i'm about to give them the boot and will probably never see them again. will they wonder about me when i'm gone? will they think it was their fault? i can't handle it. so, in a vain effort to assuage my growing feelings of self-loathing and despair, last night, out on a fucking limb of crazy, i woke fredo up from the snoozefest he was having on my lap and i forced myself to say, OUT LOUD, that i had to give him and his sister and hank away, and that i was sorry, and that i loved him and parting with him was the last thing i wanted to do. he just blinked at me all lovingly and purred and went back to sleep. it didn't help.

this is the third night in a row i've cried cried cried. i think it's all pent up -- after a year and a half of NEVER being alone, my roommates finally move out and i can finally shed all the tears my crybaby self has kept bottled up for so long. i'm a fucking wreck. i haven't gotten anything done these past few days, despite the threat of a quickly-approaching deadline. i feel paralyzed. i just want to curl up into someone and cry cry cry and be held held held.

but we soldier on, i suppose.

i sound like a crazy person. i would say i'm not, but at this point, why bother splitting hairs? if it walks like a duck...

-in five more days i will have two weeks left in virginia. i really like the idea of not coming back at the end of this 6+ month internship. i want to go to hawaii or the desert for the winter months. we'll see.

-tonight is the first night i've been in the apartment alone. i mean, my cats are still here. our impending separation paralyzes me. i am a sucker.

-i've been semi-steadily giving boxes of my junk to a nearby thrift store. today they got a box half-full of underwear and bras and two stuffed unicorns, among other things. i have just one box packed for storage, which contains the (mostly) books and dvds and cds i can't bear to part with. it feels nice to have that little bit sorted, though the media that didn't make the cut has yet to be sold or given away. there is a lot more i have to do.

-i don't know why i'm bothering typing this. i'd barely even want to read this for reference later. i'd rather read a grocery list. it just feels nice to type.

-there i go, setting myself up for the wistful longing thing again. what am i thinking? i dunno. i can't help it. the heart wants what it wants. my heart is wont to want a lot. yeah, i know, i wrote that anyways. i mean, i wouldn't put it in a paper or anything, but it's definitely not too cheesy for a fucking blog, for christ's sake.

-love is a battlefield, we belong, hell is for children.

a month until i leave virginia indefinitely. i'm supposed to be moved out of this apartment and into my parents' house in two weeks. there are still posters on my walls, maybe i should take them down so i can feel a little farther along in the moving process than i actually am. my roommates are supposed to be moved out by the 31st but neither of them have so much as packed a box. i'm barely dealing with the anxiety my own ineptitude drowns me in, and fucking panic overwhelms me if i don't think about the right things. let me make a list.

td:
-find a home for my cats, craigslist seems like the most viable option. it hurts me to think about.
-stop spending money, utilize what food i have in the kitchen.
-be ruthless in the sorting and giving away of clothes and books.
-get rid of my furniture, dvds, video games. again craigslist seems like the easiest way to go. is there any way to make money of them? i don't know.
-CLEAN CLEAN CLEAN. steam the carpets, paint the walls, scrub the crevices.
-get luggage, fill it with only things i need.

DON'T PANIC.

i'm bitch but i can't help it. i wish you were near me, as selfish as that is. i told you i can't help it.

today is jack kerouac's birthday.

i haven't had any meat, save for some sushi and shrimp, in almost a month and a half. this isn't a big deal, just the first steps towards full-fledged raw food veganism. thought i'd make a note of it.

i'm not taking enough notes, i'll have to start that.

shark attacks are at their lowest in five years thanks to the economy. less vacations, less shark snacks dangling in the sea.

all my clothes are clean, it took me a few loads. most of them are folded and now i have to divide them up into these categories: keep and take with me, keep and store here, sell, donate/trash. i have to do this with all of my belongings, actually, and i sure as fuck am putting it off as long as possible. i'm not good at deciding. also not good at selling. and i hate to waste things.

MINIMALISM, will it work for a sentimental and indecisive sap like me? who knows.

i can't wait until this bubble of depression breaks. until i break it! it's only a matter of time, and place.

i'm drinking a lot of water. and probably more whiskey than i should.

r.i.p. biggie & hank.

Notorious B.I.G. - Party & Bullshit
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"sway with me" by charles bukowski

sway with me, everything sad --
madmen in stone houses
without doors,
lepers steaming love and song
frogs trying to figure
the sky;
sway with me, sad things --
fingers split on a forge
old age like breakfast shell
used books, used people
used flowers, used love
I need you
I need you
I need you:
it has run away
like a horse or a dog,
dead or lost
or unforgiving.

and a family fucking heirloom at this point.

the thought of being this way for the rest of my life petrifies me. i'm stricken with panic, will i be able to change? depression is such a thick blanket, so comfortable and warm and familiar...

tell me i will not be this selfish and uninspired forever.

always biting off more than i can chew.

stoned on our never-ending supply of brownies, blessed by jah. entranced by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong - ella and louis (1956). my best friend is out with my ex-boyfriend. that seemed worth noting. a good valentine's day nonetheless, i feel sufficiently loved and appreciated. grateful for many things. ready to go.