April 29, 2015


There is a certain comfort in tightly hugging an entire armful of clothes. Also, apparently frozen banana makes basic ice cream in a food processor to which various stuff can be added; I’m setting this aside for future reference.


“But his heart was in a constant, turbulent riot. The most grotesque and fantastic conceits haunted him in his bed at night. A universe of ineffable gaudiness spun itself out in his brain while the clock ticked on the washstand and the moon soaked with wet light his tangled clothes upon the floor.”


“He smiled understandingly — much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced — or seemed to face — the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.”

The Great Gatsby 

for the future!

April 19, 2015


April 16, 2015

“What does achieving recovery mean? It means once again being able to do some perfectly ordinary things. Being able to feel good if something good happens. Being able to to be hopeful about the future. Being able to give attention to everyday life. Being able to be cheerful. Being able to be at peace with yourself.”

(Wiess, R. in Macnab. 1989: 246)

i do not understand why i am so sad
or lonely; surely it doesn’t matter this much-
meaning to say, if he is strong why can’t i be?
surely it is all the same.

Today, pumping gas into my old car, I stood
hatless in the rain and the whole world
went silent–cars on the wet street
sliding past without sound, the attendant’s
mouth opening and closing on air
as he walked from pump to pump, his footsteps
erased in the rain–nothing
but the tiny numbers in their square windows
rolling by my shoulder, the unstoppable seconds
gliding by as I stood at the Chevron,
balanced evenly on my two feet, a gas nozzle
gripped in my hand, my hair gathering rain.

i think my options are to cling to a knife or
give up the pain and work on walling my heart up,
brick by brick. The vibrations of my phone make
me cry when it is not him summoning me.
The empty ringtone is easier than silence.

I finally believed I was alone, felt it
in my actual, visceral heart, heard it echo
like a thin bell. And the sounds
came back, the slish of tires
and footsteps, all the delicate cargo
they carried saying thank you
and yes. So I paid and climbed into my car
as if nothing had happened–
as if everything mattered–What else could I do?

name your price for staying in the moment;
mine is the knife
for willing for tomorrow. i gulp down hot green tea
for – what, i do not know, comfort, maybe,
its yellowish liquid rushing down my throat
as i count the number of times i swallow.

“but anyway, you also need to constantly remind yourself about picking your battles.”
“only if it helps your relationship, you can pursue the matter. but if it’s just going to cause more conflict or cause unwanted emotions, don’t let it fester. take another approach”

“better that the effort to be nice grows, than the feeling of resentment.”