Insomnimusing: Allons-y!

For the briefest time - before the world flipped over - I got a tiny taste of happiness, a glimpse of hope, a dream for a future. He knew me. He knew how hard it was for me to be vulnerable again. He knew that I lived in terror of the day that I should lose him. I don't know how this could happen. None of this is right at all. This would all make a lot more sense to me if I were to look in the mirror and find myself sporting a curly mustache. "Oh, what fresh hell is this?" I worked. It did keep me busy. I had the extra work of the other two papers, as well as my usual extras for Monday and some special requests from the peanut gallery. I got it all done cleanly and efficiently. And I still broke down and cried five separate times before noon. (I specifically kept track - 'cos it seemed like a lot lately. He must take some joy in knowing he wields such power.) I ate some. It sits like a lump, but it sits. I napped in the middle of the day. I usually can't do that, ...

Well, my boy's got a couple more graduation parties to attend this weekend. He's off now with his girlfriend helping to build a shed before hers tomorrow. He told me today that he was getting tired of graduation parties. He's the type of boy who would rather just spend the evening hanging out watching The Office with four or five of his buddies - or watching a chick flick with his girlfriend. ♥ There are worse ways he could be. I'll take him. My girls are spending the night with a friend, so it's just me at home tonight. I'll be working this weekend (so I guess it's really a good thing that our grad party isn't this week). I'll also be doing double the work on Monday. Keep me busy. I"m going to have to go into the office soon though. I just can't handle being in public right now. My son drove us out today, and we went to order his cake and some photos. I made it until we were on our way home. Even ate a little. It was good I didn't have ...

I can step outside myself to observe in my meditations, and I am fascinated by the progressions and fluctuations of my psyche. It is in flux, it seems, with my persona setting me in one direction, while my anima sees a different course. My heart seeks logic while my head is confronting chaos. From my perspective as the observer, I can see the turmoil. Centering this soul and finding peace will take some considerable effort. Inside I see gray. It is indicative of the muddling within me. I need to pause this chronicle to focus inside for a moment.... (Ed. note: pause for meditation here) Cacophony. There is no more accurate term for it. It wasn't gray at all. It was a hundred thousand things. Images and conversations. Emotions. Memories. Subtle tones and scents and flavors. There is no sorting this just yet. I will first have to embrace it, and I am not yet able to reach directly into the heart of the hurricane. There is a resolution to this though. It is within my reach.

Surreality. Wait... What did you say? "Lightning flashes, sparks shower. In one blink of an eye, you have missed seeing," says Oma. One blink. What was real? The moment before. The moment after. Senses reeling. What? How is this possible? Who turned the world upside down? But.... I see..... A certain centered clarity... It seems to be, as it was .... as it has been I see .... I remember Ah, I understand Bit of a prick about it, though, wouldn't you say? Ok. I understand. This surreality...... Stepping through the vacuum of space Tiptoe from star to star The pretty picture of the little prince Is not real Quoth Ms. Janis: "Freedom's just another word for ... nothing ... left ... to ... lose." Free... to .... .... hmmm... In the ... absence .... I should mention that I have not eaten still. Few saltines this morning. I've lost five pounds. And I'm a little loopy, I think. Life keeps going on. Work just exploded with insanity this morning, over somethi...

A picture is worth a thousand words, they say. A single image, glimpsed for only the briefest of moments, can be enough to bring to the surface a flood of emotions so effectively suppressed for so long. Which state is better? Is it better to suppress the anger and pain, to try to get past it in the hopes that better will come? There is no talking through it. The past can't be changed. Can it ever really be overcome? Each time this memory is brought to the fore, all I can do is try to rationalize it, try to reason that the situation was such that it was all but destined to occur, but it's hard not to recognize that little - if anything - has really changed. If nothing has changed, how do I move forward?