Love is not a thing I know how to make
It flows from me, encases like a cocoon
Hardened shell waiting for going slow
To become now
Until burst forth as chrysalis shatters
Though, truth be told, not much visible change had occurred
Rather rewrite the inside of my brain
No longer drowning in depression
Brain still sad
Eyes still crying at times
But not looking for a way out in the explosion of brain and teeth
Not looking to jump into the sharks mouth for one last thrill before the bite
Reworked change but of the heart and mind
And what may seem at odds
every body responds to different triggers
It’s easy to wallow in the flowers of touch bloomed ecstasy
But more, to discover each nerve, each pressure
To make of us a discovery
Exposing us bare
I had a dream that I met a college professor at williamette College in the nw? We were talking philosophy and I was saying how I couldn’t stand college because I wanted to talk philosophy not learn about what others said about philosophy
Her name began with a h something? she was maybe an adjunct professor. (I’m crappy with names in general and in dreams I’m worse) She was with 2 of her grad students one of whom was talking about a local(school?) advert she did that featured a corset but her friend, bitchily commented that she brought it to the shoot. She blushed and said that it made her feel like a cat and that made her happy. I launched into explaining that sounded like she may be a kitten(BDSM/fetish play) and her professor was just smiling.
It was cold out and the professor commented that she was used to hotter climes and I said I was from the desert. She said her skin was cold as ice and I should, “here feel” like a competition to find who was colder and when I did she was delightfully warm. An excuse to touch is sometimes flirting but even in my dreams I’m an idiot about these things.
We said our goodbyes and I drove home.
I looked her up on some messaging app they’d mentioned when they said they used it for DnD(super nerds, right in my wheel house)
I found her and sent a request and she accepted the request and it was also a game thing and she sent me a bunch of in game items.
I was just about to say hi when I woke up.
Things in my life are, oddly, going right. And I’m kinda lost. Cause for the longest time I’ve been struggling to find some light and now that things have resolved into a picture of maybe and almost and yes and huh, I’m not sure how to deal. Like I’m a ninja warrior at depression and pain. That shit I have handled and can work through. And the unbearable happiness of the new relationship, I know that too because it feels like falling apart and that’s stopping. Love now feels like walking into a moon drenched night full of wonder and the possible. Like heat after being nearly frozen. No simple maybe someday but here and now.
So for the first time in a long time, I’m lost. And not lost in my pain or in some bleak landscape of never gonna be but lost in where things go without the dramatic pose of pain and open wounds.
Darkness and shadows still war in me and poetry is still flowing. But I’m not drowning. And that’s new.
I’d like to know why but equally don’t want to break the spell. And while I want more than I have, I can see a future where I may have all that I want, and how do I deal with that? Or is it that having all that one desires, it then becomes a struggle to hold on.
I suppose the inclination is to hold ground but I know that doesn’t work. I’ll keep evolving. Adding new pieces. New thoughts. Anything else seems to lead to the slow death. Growing is the only way to hold.
I haven’t done one of these in a long time and I thought when I heard this song, that it’s a perfect one.
Love is an emergence
Not a fall
A discovery of heart and connection
A wiping away of the scales
The pretense of separation to see the whole
Love is a tapestry woven complete
Not touching all souls but touching many
The faint echos and plucked chord melodies
Love emerges from silence
Demands to be known
And though pain may follow close on its heals
The truth is
All revelation has a price
And just as a cost is paid
May a lesson be learned
The subject is nervous. She looks skittish out on her own. Having seen the material collected from her abuser, it’s obvious where that comes from. According to the psych profile, agoraphobia is not uncommon as her trauma continues to resurface.
She shouldn’t be nervous. Not logically. Presidents and dictators are less well protected than she is. The mall is seeded with plain clothes mercs, all with backgrounds of former police or MP’s. We have a lead car, a trail car and 3 different sets of cars running counter trailing techniques. If they are tailing the vehicles, it’ll be the last mistake they make.
When we exit and traverse to the mall entrance, it will be the first real opportunity to kill her. A sniper could do it, if they are good enough. Or if they are willing to go loud. Not a lot we can do against an RPG or a LAW. But barring that we have counter snipers positioned around the primary entrance as well as the backup.
She thinks of me like a big sister. Pel’s familiarity with me in front of her puts her at ease. That should eliminate any desire for her to buck my orders or try to slip away. I do so hate it when the primary tries to get clever. As if we care what mistress you have or what bribe you are handing out this week. Gods, I hate amateurs. But, in country, they pay the bills. Wish they would just read the damn contracts though. The penalty we hit them with for disobedience of their protective detail would make Midas blink.
In any case, Tara is as safe as we can make her. And Pel…sometimes the boss is so cold. He put it out on certain unsavory corners of the deep web that the witness would be out today. Hoping to catch some bottom feeders in his net. I’m glad he didn’t ask me to pull that duty, too. Splitting your attention is a good way to get the primary killed.
Nah, that job goes to Jacob and his KNR cowboys. Sometimes they rescue and sometimes they do the tracking back when it goes wrong.
“Lavender,” announces the mic. Breaking my train of thought. Looks like we are moving to the secondary. They already swept someone up at the primary.
Pel. Cold beautiful bastard.
An old man
Drinking unquaffed dreams
Tongue tied and delirious
Hearts broken so easily
Last memories trickle
Smoke from tired lungs
Burdens too easy to carry
Easier to stay buried
Modeling desires off of wanton dreams
Hoping tomorrow will bring
Some paths forward
Die before you can take a step
Others just this steady heartbeat
Tying to a dream
Say never forget
Until I’m forgotten
Everything you wanted
Excepting the want of wanting
Simple paths smile
As the vines die