Wanting

I want.  I want.  I want.

 Doesn’t sound like much of a quote, but it is.  I read Carson McCuller’s The Heart is A Lonely Hunter and I loved it.  The particular paragraph where this was found has never left me.  It reads:

 

"She thought a long time and kept hitting her thighs with her fists. Her face felt like it was scattered in pieces and she could not keep it straight. The feeling was a whole lot worse than being hungry for any dinner, yet it was like that. I want-I want-I want was all she could think about--but just what this real want was she did not know."

 

This particular passage does not alter the story itself.  It is proof of McCuller’s beautiful writing, but again, this moment in this book is just that.  And yet, this moment in her book has lasted a lifetime for me.  Not literally, of course, but certainly since I first read the words.

For so long, I have not ever known what I wanted.  I could tell you what I didn’t want: Where would you like to eat?  I don’t know, but not McDonalds, etc.  Somewhere along the way I stopped giving myself permission to dream.

For the first time in a long time, I know something that I want.  Something big.  Something that I will have to really work hard for.  Something that I will have to wait for.  Something that I will have to prove that I really do want by not giving up.  Even if I work really hard and even if I do not give up, there is still a chance that this dream will not happen.  I understand that.  I think it will be worth trying for.

 Today I have a dream.  Want with me.  I want, I want, I want…



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Creative Lethargy

So lately it seems that I keep struggling with everything.  I have a huge certification test coming up in 4 weeks that I have known about for months and I have not studied.  At all.  I have 2 or 3 books sitting by my bed that I have been meaning to either read or finish.  Yep--they are still sitting there, and this coming from the girl who loves to read.  Other things, too, like wanting to make really delicious meals for my family.  I know how, want to, but when it gets down to dinner time, what happens?  Mac and cheese.  Or sandwiches.  I know what depression is, I know what it feels like--I have battled it for what seems like my entire adult life, but this is different. 
This feels like lethargy--creative lethargy.  Once again I put easy before trying new things (or old, for that matter!) and tried-and-true before any out of the box ideas.  I am so completely inhibited.  Creatively constipated.  Nice image, huh?  C told me I should take some art classes.  We were discussing my absolute love/obsession with tattoos and he told me I should become a tattoo artist.  I immediately laughed and said, 'I can't draw!  I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler!"  His response was that I could learn.  Take a class here or there...  and you want to know what happened?  For half a second, I actually dreamed.  I actually imagined what taking a class would look like and then I compared myself to every other art student who has been drawing for a lifetime and I threw it away.  I threw that image away.  But do you see it?  Do you see it still lingering? 
I don't know what happened to me.  I feel now like I always do.  But I am saying it out loud.  I feel lost.  Sometimes I don't know why and even the times I think I know, I pretty much go running away.  It is time to stop running.  Ok, so I may never learn to draw straight lines without a ruler and therefore never become Kat Von D, but I can pick up a pen.  Or type a few lines.  I will purposefully set out to fail so that in doing so, I can actually succeed.

A Touch of Melancholy

My desire speaks to me

But at a distance, like the moon

I try to find out about myself

From everyone but myself

I feel the spaces are dark, unknown

I think I am scared, scared to want

Scared more, still, to succeed

I look for reassurance 

Soft and sweet-scented like the wind

One day I will know

One day I will see

But tonight, tonight is for dreaming

A poem about me...

I have always been
one of the Unfortunate
One who understands
I was part owner and part slave
to the plantation of dreams in my heart
my dissatisfaction was a balm for my wounds
to teach me a lesson
I recognize disturbing behavior but
I belong to the reorganization crew
I like to stand alone, against Time--
Against the only Force strong enough
to knock me down--The Wind
That same wind which would carry
a strand of my hair
to offer a blessing to
the little rat's nest
Likewise, such is that of me
Should a single tear fall
thousands would find shelter in it
An Unfortunate
Grateful despite myself
But I cannot speak to the Raised Voice
the way It speaks to me
I cannot move mountains
nor my own faith
Yet I embrace these concepts--
these acknowledgments--
into my being
for they are me as well
I teach them and they respond well
I learn that I grow
I am passionate
my touch forbidden
due to self restrain and a love
for self justification
I cannot comprehend all that is in me
Cannot express all that I am
I can only be beautiful
and Unfortunate
Tempered by Truth
I sing a language few dream of
I am my own sun
and my own moon
But I would be arrogant
to include the Universe
Still, I am quiet
A foreshadow of the ripples in the pond
I am shadow, a glance, a peace so tranquil
It is lonely
I am a memory
A joy so desperate
Only a wall without a door
can stop me
Most of all
I am a succession of queens
bold and conquering
while martyrs and laughter live in my heart
I am a perception
a reflection
a fear
I am tomorrow
and while I never was Today
I am the connection
a thin line
to a meaningful
"some things but not everythings:
and I am an Unfortunate
Such knowledge is truly
No power at all...