"Honey and dreams, dreams and bread, bread and love"

 Today I've written at least four entries, one wild-eyed and wanting, one simple and newsy and the two-ish others somewhere in between or not even on the line.

 

This week I found myself for the first time losing patience with Spark.  They kept using the sign for music and then telling me "no" after the first ten to twenty seconds of any song I played.  (absence of song would make them cry).  I felt so freaking helpless.   

 

I didn't do anything with the loss of patience other than note it, but it threw me for a while.  I guess I thought that patience was a thing I was good at these days. And maybe I still am, maybe I can still wait everything out, assure everyone there's nothing but the fullness of time ahead of us, even as I feel like I've hit whatever peak I was going to have and the rest is a slow downhill slide.

 

Well that got dour.  And then Nonsense farted epically and it became much harder to take myself seriously.  

Went to a 5pm Kris Delmhorst concert tonight, which meant I could stay awake for the whole thing.  It made me a little wistful and it made me scribble down a bunch of disjointed thoughts I thought I was going to turn into the rest of this entry, into something nominally coherent but instead I'll just transcribe them.

 

I want so badly to be involved, to be interesting, to be interested, to be doing something I think of as good. I want to identify my skill sets, make sure they align with what I enjoy doing, make sure there's still room and opportunity to learn things.  I want to spend time absorbing data and I want to spend time thinking about it.  

I hope I present the exterior of a social justice paladin, even when my interior is mostly social justice angry mob.



I spend so much time interrogating myself unkindly, fretting if something is authentic or an affectation, if I'm trying to go where I'm not invited, if I'm thinking to much of myself. Sometimes I think it's what keeps me a decent human being.  Sometimes I think I'm just perpetuating the shitty standard of care my parents taught me to expect.

(Lastly, this mysterious little self-important gem)



 

Sometimes I'm an open wound in the shape of a woman, sometimes I'm a scar.