It’s been a long and nervous day, with restless hands and something coiled and waiting in my spine…feeling a little impotent, a little indignant…a bit more graceless than I have felt in recent days…probably because someone wishes I didn’t exist…chances are good that that is the case…

I 1/2 wish that I could still be talking about drawing everyday or how my day at work went. About some funny thing that happened on the way to take the kids to school.

(My God, it still hurts so bad to remember last year.)

(My fleeting human heart flat-out breaks at least 12 times a day and it just occurred to me that maybe it’s the warmth of those wounds that I am mistaking for a sense of salvation.)

I can’t have the job I interviewed for because I couldn’t lift the man from his bed. My left arm was too weak to hold his tensed and compacted palsied weight to my chest. Perhaps another position will open up…chances are good that if I had spent my summer gardening like I had planned, well – I’d be stronger…studying the sky and pulling forms from the clouds takes enormous energy, but not the kind that gives you strong arms…

The people who see ‘nothing but clouds’ must wonder why I don’t just stop…well, what would that mean?
That nothing I knew to be true – know to be true – ever existed?
That all those impossibilities simply never were?
That my whole life was wrenched away from me for nothing?

Simply put, no…that will not do.

Besides, there are structures like this to consider.

I am jumping through hoops left and right and I am jumping alone and I am tired of it all in a way that is a little more hellish each day. It is a comfort to know that there are others who have leapt from their own bluffs into this old river and I know I am not as alone in sleeping spirit as I am in walking and talking…and I know there are lots of people who have far-away dreams and I am not referring to anyone specifically, all you have to do is listen to the words to songs and flip open the books on your shelves at random or read the words to any old hymn, any old verse…

Music has carried me through this, hands down – or up, depending on the song (ha.) It’s true that I do get a sense when I study the sky and that, in the summer, some old knowing exploded in my bones…and that I am mending a different person than the one who was broken…songs explained a lot of it to me and in place of all the people who had shaken me out of their fold, well, I arranged an veritable army of imaginary friends…people that seem good and kind and who wouldn’t dream of hurting me or shaming me…

I keep my imaginative and hopeful world (which is pretty much exactly like my real world, except with imaginary friends and boundless wonder and possibility) 1/2 separate from my ‘real’ world…but, I prefer to spend a lot of time there, because I feel more like myself with my head in the proverbial clouds, thinking about how much I know to be true…and I am trying hard to let everything I am scared of (mostly people) fall away from me, but sometimes they catch up to me in lucid dreams and I wake up terrified and quiet, my eyes wide open and my ears listening as lone cars drive by with a timing that is perfect and comforting, though I know that it’s just another coincidence that I have defined as reassurance…because I don’t have any ‘real’ source of reassurance…

My mother tells me that, “Things will get back to normal.”

“There hasn’t been normal for a long time. I don’t want things to be how they were.” In fact, things ‘going back to normal’ is a little bit of a nightmarish suggestion to me…because ‘normal’ treated me like a cardboard cut-out that kept falling over…

Thus, there is nothing else I can do but continue to establish that I am real and I am relentlessly proving that the sky is not dead space and that we are older than any words we know how to speak…

Proof of God really would be an inconvenience, wouldn’t it?

Humans disappoint me more and more and more.

In fact, despite my efforts at goodwill, you make me very nervous.

True story.

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