HATE...MEEEE.

why must the dang restrictions loosen just when their tightening could be considered a good thing? why can i protect myself better than twinkies to the next-to-last degree and then when it counts let everything go for the sake of self-explosion? i see wrong. i do bad. i'm too weird. yes. when it comes down to it, i see things that are only a little bit there because i'm weird. and apparently i don't know how to look or what to see. i know nothing about what i'm looking at.

it'd be good to shake the foundations to their marrow (foundations with marrow...apparently it's a creepy mammalian building), but i don't know how. all i know is that i suck, and that i'm blind because i've made assumptions that aren't valid. from the bottom up. like the sweet sweet inevitability of jenga, but without the inevitability. i mean, i could retain this structure for years. if i don't know how to poke the holes or where to poke them, i could continue to live in this ridiculous head for years.

it's better to shake, i know that--it's just that this kind of shaking is unfamiliar. usually i shake with knowledge, but now i shake with feeling, not just red and black but the deep green. the red and black shake incised like a shard of that stained glass that the flying goat guy replaced in that one church after world war II. the green shake is different (more odwalla-y...that was a joke): it goes through ground, but instead of spearing from ground up, it spreads and covers, like grass, but like a lichen. the whole idea of shaking is that you don't know how to shake--but i wish i did; i wish i could encourage it in myself. because as things stand now i only shake sometimes and i'm afraid it won't be enough.

i've had the hard bloom; i'll have it again. is there such a thing as a fissure at peace? knowing that my own eyes are mostly green and that my hair is black, and that i can feel anything, can be anything, but choose to feel and be this select variety of things because i have judged them approximately truer to my form? is this a dynamic sort of peace, or am i just more desolate, and breaking apart farther and farther? i guess it doesn't matter--i guess what matters is that it's movement.

yesterday i was getting out of the car and i had this moment of realization that i'm wonderful. i always thought looks didn't matter too much, but i never could figure out why i felt that way... yesterday i knew why. but i can't say the reason, because i don't know it know it.