Logbook entry 120922

After 21 years of not wearing pjs, I have anchored in a perpetual state of pajamaland.

been a child a dozen times
childhood slipped through my hands, every time
through finger tips pointing at the things i wanted
thinking i needed

tongue-tied, pursing lips to form the words
grimaces to enunciate, accentuate

you start over, pick up something new
brush up; revise; forget and learn anew
unlearn / ing

so many rules to remember
so difficult to switch back and forth
[why is it ?

never less demanding to slow down, baby steps
try to forget, somewhere else you could run
here you must first learn to crawl
stumble and fall
learn to pick yourself up

sitting still can feel the wind in my hair
through  finger tips pointing at the things i wanted
pursing lips; grimaces
tongue-tied starting over
unlearning so many rules to remember
never less demanding

learn to slow down

"We're [me and my brother X] kinda like you and Chesty on your nightly adventures, except we also speak French together."

"Yea... Ouais, on parle français avec mes... I can't fucking remember, my French is all rusty after not having used it in years."

"Tes frères et soeurs ?"

"Yeah, totally."

Drinking chocolate sauce from chocolate goblets; crunchy chocolates shaped like roses, bunnies, walnuts and barrels. Two of each and the taste of cherries.

Movies, cramped up on a tiny couch full of stuff; emptying it out together.

Period blood everywhere.

"This is just a dream, it has to be, but why can't I wake up and does everything feel so real?" stops the panic from setting in. Why am I washing my hair in this person's bathroom instead of trying to clean up the mess?

And why was I in such a hurry I forgot my shoes in the school bathroom only to have Paula's younger brother throw them in the toilet. Those leather shoes are never going to be shoes again.

in an ideal world

It wouldn't be weird to say, You're pretty aggressive, you know. Inappropriately so, but I'm not complaining. Pulling your chair right up against me. Always standing way too close. Leaning in over my shoulder in silent agreement over the obvious.

There's no harm in smelling nice and being friendly.

Really, in an ideal world I could be vocal about it and deal with the consequences.

I'm sorry

Well, hey. I do miss the talks we used to have but no matter how sad the past sometimes makes me I wouldn't: respond
reach out; pull your hands away

stop.

not tears of sadness so much as they bring relief- i am running towards loneliness.
you(r words) are not going with me.