That's it. I'm done.
My roommate and I just had a fist fight over, essentially, a utilities bill. Of course the argument ran much deeper than that. From my perspective, she's really jealous that I work so little. And damn near all of the time I can pay my bills on time. This month, due to unforseen circumstances (i.e. not getting paid as I should have), I couldn't pay KUB on time. She offered to do so to help me out. This agreement went south, as her "favors" typically do, and ended, of course, in a brawl.
Though I am MUCH stronger than I used to be... when I went back in her room to tackle her, I ended up being choked and pinned to the ground. I eventually got her off my back, but I think I'll have bruises from that one. She'll have some bite marks, too.
I can't live like this. Her tension and pressure to get a second job seeps into my dreams. I actually had a dream the other night that she was beating me up, pestering me on end as my sage-like friends looked down on us, as if she and I were unable to see beyond our problems. This is very, very true. I can't tolerate hearing her sisterly gripes though and share adult responsibilites when she doesn't abide by her own "fair share" policy. It's just not working. I don't know how to get out of it, either. Our lease isn't up until February. There is no way I can afford to move out now. She threatens "Suing Me In Chancery Court" for the remaining lease money. Yeah.
There is nothing holding me in Knoxville. Except this goddamned lease. I've considered talking to my Dad about taking out a loan so I can get out of here. Rent is not really a desirable thing to owe money on though. Once again financial worries have my conscious mind and body distressed. My boss has still not properly compensated me for the hours I worked in August. This only adds stress.
THERE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN MONEY, UTILITIES, RENT.
I am preparing myself for something wildly uncomfortable, hugely unusual and totally new. I haven't seen it yet, and I'm not even sure what it's related to, but I'm starting to feel it in my heart. There's a calm there that I have been building on, working toward, since the moment of my birth.
(Another train whistle, more clinking tracks. Open doors on empty cars, graffiti-laden sides. I wonder where they've been.)
This something, this feeling is autonomous, and generated WITHIN. It doesn't have a voice, yet, or I don't know how to hear the voice. It will help other people give love and be in more touch with their hearts.
My heart feels open, peaceful, ready, receptive. Financial worries do not matter. Continued nourishment of my bosy, healthy connections with individuals, literary enlightenment...is a big priority. Write daily. Bless those around me, for I am so blessed to have them in my life. Don't be so preoccupied with the little argument and disagreements, like those I have with my sister. We lose sight of the bigger picture, or higher thinking, OUR GREATER GOOD, when we do that. The image of Ashley with a furrowed brow in my dream, as she spoke with the gypsy and watched W and I bicker, is symbollic of my day to day life. I couldn't read more of the heart meditation book without first feeling my own heart. It's rhythm is the single most beautiful force about me. My heart is my life force, pumping life blood, giving birth to my breath, and in turn, my thoughts and feelings and opinions of everything around me.
My heart is why I like the changing seasons, the river, sunny afternoons.
Never thought I would make the switch from cheap, delicious margaritas across the Square to the Pub, where I'm sipping on too much whiskey. But it's good, and the people are better. I needed some sort of familiar interaction this afternoon. I've been craving it.
One of my writing mentors is sitting outside squinting into the sun. He was speaking with some dude in a Dead shirt, who is talking and talking and talking. I couldn't tell the nature of the conversation, or I would have interrupted them outright. I seek Dave's advice, especially with the potential writing opportunities. And what the fuck was that guy thinking when he walked to the bar with that shirt on...
The heart meditation is amazing, beautiful, brings tears to my eyes. I celebrated the autumnal equinox by the river with Dennis, a seeminly wise friend who feels like an old acquaintance. We met at the last Col. Bruce Hampton show at Barleys. His energy is warm, outright, always right on.
I guess I'm just going to go interrupt them now.
The library is a flurry of activity on this perfect Sunday afternoon. I woke up on Amy's couch again, unaware of when or how I fell asleep last night, or how I managed to sleep through Oregon Amy's phone call at 2 a.m. I must have been sound asleep, appropriately so after an afternoon of swimming, bloody marys, overworked football fans and excitment sorting through Amy's old supplements.
THERE GOES MY OLD BUS FRIEND! Ahhh those were the days. He and I used to see eachother almost every morning and afternoon through June when I rode the 11 out to Nature's Pantry. He washed cars on Kingston Pike and always smiled at me after he got off the bus, maybe two stops before mine. I finally talked to him, I think on the afternoon I was laid off. The job hunt still continutes, and I have a savings goal now. I'll get there, somehow, through thick and/or thin. I WILL BE IN OREGON come the end of February.
I take pleasure in writing about my morning. Recounting the feeling, sensations with which I welcome a new day; the temperature, my dreams and crazy inclinations. News from the subconscious is best recorded at some point. Hell, everything should be recounted, re-examined and reconfigured for further metaphorical digestion. This, with the hope of LEARNING from our experiences and SPREADING that knowledge, is one of my few goals in life, I guess.
I took one of my earlier posts to heart and decided to post it on craigslist. Link available as soon as its up, although it may be flagged for inappropriate content. Well, that's alright. I feel better anonymously advertising my biker rage against drivers who like honking at me. I mean, it WAS a missed connection. He DID try to make contact with me, albeit from behind his little glass-and-metal safety box, cough, I mean, CAR. I am just so cheery and sunshiney about those encounters...
It seems like a good time to quit my rant, bike along and lube up Ellie. She sounds a little cranky today! HAHA!!!
I got caught up reading this early this morning upon waking on Miss Wendy's couch. Beacon was in my face, being all nice an catty an stuff after I had some wild dream about athletes ruining the peace of some green hilly community I had been living in. Another vivid, memorable dream; my best tend to occur when I fall asleep after being awake at least once. They're pleasant, usually, and enjoyable.
I was caught up in innarweb multitasking this afternoon at work, which has been one of my slowest to date. Three chat boxes on two different sites; all three conversations were cross country. One in Eugene, one in Portland, one in NOLA. I guess one in West Knoxville, which is far enough away to count as a great distance. I feel indifferent about chatting. While it is not something I really look forward to, it does save my cellphone minutes and increases conversation with close friends. Is it in some breaking down barriers that postpone or delay long distance relationships? I suppose. Too much innarweb is typically, in my mind, always a bad thing.
But at work, as minutes pass by slowly, I look forward to the friendly hello from Amy as she types from the public library in Eugene. It gives me hope that I can maintain connections when I move out there : ) eehehehe...which is less than 160 days away. A really ridiculous measure, I admit, but I enjoy keeping it on the backburner. It fuels more trips to the mountains, fewer visits to the bar, and longer conversations with friends.
Man, shit is REALLY dead on Friday afternoon in the newsroom. Jesus H. Christ...
Here's to YOU motherfucker, Grand Cherokee Driver, who decided to HONK at me for going straight through a green light after a firetruck whizzed by both of us. THANKS for respecting my rights. I even looked CUTE today, ya fuckin douchebag, ass-hat smarty pants SUV-driving FOOL!!! Thank god other pedestrians saw your foolish face and heard your giant vehicle's external VOICE as you roared behind me.
You make me want to slow down on my bike, in the middle of the lane, so DUMB MOTHERFUCKERS LIKE YOU get more angry. When you run my ass over on accident, I'm going to SUE you and SEND YOU LETTERS every day reminding you of the BIKER you ran OVER.
AAAAAuuuughhhh....
I can finally see a little bit through the haze.
It's been a slow, slow morning. Amy and I had a marathon afternoon, which of course left me grappling for coffee, water and food this morning. Bad Jane. Beer only makes me feel nothing short of awful. Le sigh.
More hurrying up to wait for jobs that never seem to materialize. The food place has two more weeks till the search closes; I still have yet to land that interview for web stuffs; sister told me about a full-time editing job, but it's about 20 miles away, one way. Still haven't found the ad for it, either, so my resume continues to sit.
I got a new nose ring put in yesterday after mine got stuck in my nose. I attempted to change it out on my lonesome but was unsuccessful; thus, my lovely bartender friend who's also a piercer hooked me up at Saint. He had to use a taper, so my nose is a bit red today. It matches the sunburn I scored wandering around Ijams with Amy yesterday. Took her to the other quarry; can't wait to post photos.
Boooo beeeer,,,,
That's it. I'm done.
