Comfy couch - check
Squishy pillow - check
Soft blanket - check
Blinds filtering light just right - check
Windows open just enough to let in breeze - check
Remote control conveniently located near right hand - check
DVD player loaded up with disc one of the new "Dr. Who" series - check
Thankful thoughts for loaner of said series - check
Cat ready to jump up as soon as I get settled in - check
Lazy, indulgent, restful Saturday - CHECK
<contented sigh>
Okay, enough soul-baring and wallowing in the past...back to current events, blurbs about movies, and entries about things that really only matter to the writer and maybe to the people directly involved.
We apologize for the interruption.
Another glimpse into "Stacey's Psyche"...this is from the 2001 series. Ooooo, imagery...this one is based on the concept that if you don't know pain, you can't appreciate love as fully, much in the same way that you need to have ugliness to truly know beauty; otherwise, it becomes mundane and you lose sight of the qualities that make it so special. The flip side is that if you cut yourself off from the world to avoid being hurt, you also isolate yourself from the things that might bring you joy. You have to risk in order to achieve.
Actually, looking back at some of these, I think I was trying to talk myself into being more positive, trying to convince myself that there was light at the end of the tunnel. I desperately needed to know that it was all going to be worth it, and that I would get through it okay.
I eventually did. It wasn't easy, or quick, but I did.
...pollution...
i wish i may, i wish i might
i wish i had the strength to fight
i want to kick, i want to scream
i want to wake from this dread dream
the air is foul, the land is spoiled
the mountains toppled, the water soiled
such is the state of my inner world
no flags to fly, the banners furled
slowly i heal, bend to the task
raze to the ground, remove the mask
admit the pain, embrace the change
allow the hurt, find the range
emotions high, emotions low
now is the time to let them flow
by feeling the pain, it dulls the ache
feeds the strength, new steps to take
cleanse the land, the inner soul
slowly climbing towards the goal
of peace and joy, contentment found
center myself on stronger ground
build from the hurts, learn from the fear
embrace the now, shed the tear
must see beneath to appreciate above
the deeper the pain, the deeper the love
--010116sg
Another in the "Stacey's Psyche 2000" series. I like the minimalist theme to this one...even now, I am happy with the picture it paints, the progression, and the hope that is hinted at.
...paths...
black slack
track wrack
bleak sleek
meek speak
more chore
sore explore
fight right
sight light
--001012sg
Okay, this is one of those poems I mentioned in my last post...so skip it. Seriously. Move on, nothing to see here, move along. This post is strictly for me, to archive and put the bits into the ether so I can find them later.
Seriously, dude...you've been warned.
..two for the price of one...
continual clash
heart head
old enemies
strong friendsone needs
and gives
and aches
and breaksone thinks
and plans
explains
understandsmixed messages
lost connections
conflicting goals
one soul--001107sg
I just rediscovered a collection of things I'd written during a dark, hard, strange time of my life. They were driven by a need for catharsis; by getting some of the feelings out, it helped compartmentalize them, make them a little less immediate and give me a little more distance from them, which helped me work through them. Some of them were extremely melodramatic and over the top [okay, many of them], but I still like some of them. Something about the flow of the words, the rhythm, the beat appeals to me, even after all this time.
One of my favorites is this two-line bit from a longer outpouring; it has a rhythm and a beat that I still love today:
"haunted, taunted, tortured by
ghosts of trusting past"
I miss writing. I miss playing with words, trying to find the right rhythm or rhyme or feeling or method of expression. I used to write a lot, just for me...it's funny to go back through some of them now and see what I like and what makes me cringe, and to see what I would change and tweak and shuffle and update. Stacey's psyche, remixed and updated. The revised edition, new and improved.
But then I just let go and let the words stand as a testament to where I was at the time. Good, bad, melodramatic, injured, scarred, surviving, rebuilding...all me, all part of who I am today. And I'm pretty okay with who I am...
Okay, so "Live Free or Die Hard" wasn't exactly the mostest amazingest bestest incrediblest movie ever made. But it was fun, and definitely a thrill ride. There were some 'oh, puh-lease' moments, but in general, it delivered. Fun, fluffy, good escapism...McClane's still got it, and "Mac" [of the Apple Mac/PC commercials] is a surprisingly good actor. Who knew??
Just got back from an hour long walk...it's a beautiful night, temperature is perfect, flowers are fragrant. Wandered about, through the park, along the streets. Stopped by the swim center to peek inside and check out the hours. Walked through the garden at the Unitarian Universalist church down the street, zoned out a bit at their rock labyrinth [not quite meditating, but not just standing...sort of 'disconnecting' for a while, letting my brain go its own way for a few cycles]. Nice to let it all go for a bit...
Home now, winding down. Got the trash gathered and taken out, so I feel like I've done something productive. Dr. Who is waiting on the VCR, cats are settling down, and a strawberry margarita is calling my name. Contented sigh...
Made a big decision today. Priorities, life, family, the future, sanity, fulfillment, satisfaction, growth, paths I'm on and paths I want to take...all those figured into it and more. It's funny how you take so long to build up to something, then *boi-oi-oing* you suddenly act on it. Seems impulsive, but it's not really...it's the culmination of hours/days/weeks/months of foreground and background pondering, pluses and minuses adding up, tally marks going into columns, pros being weighed against cons, yeah-buts and what-ifs. 
Then one day the last piece falls into place, like that final x-shaped bit of yellow plastic that dropped into the blue and red ball when you were a kid...and tah-dah, you have leapt.
Geronimo!!!
Why in the world do I remember that the combination to the lock I used in high school was 15-31-21??
