Gifts from Myself (and maybe the Universe)

I think the universe is trying to cheer me up. During the three days I stayed in bed, sick and exhausted, dizzy and queasy, I received mail. Usually my mail is unwanted credit card offers and unnecessary papers from Covered California, but this this week I got not one, but TWO cool things. 

Naturally they were comic book related packages because comics are my life. Seriously, it's a problem. 

Luck Penny Kickstarter rewards!

And my pass to Emerald City Comic Con!

ft. the amazing art of Emi Lenox

I knew these were coming eventually since I ordered both, but I couldn't help feel like it was some sort of cosmic intervention to have them show up during one of my lowest weeks.  It was felt like a gentle nudge from the universe saying, "hey, it's not all terrible."

Then I got a text from my best friend, it was one of one of those silly inspirational quotes that I scroll past on Facebook. I don't remember the exact wording, but the gist was that I was her inspiration to keep going, because I was who she loved most (family and cat aside).

So, yeah.

I forget that it's not all terrible. I forget that people love me and that there are awesome things to look forward to. I forget to be present, to get out of my head and listen to something other than the thoughts of "not being good enough" that play constantly.

Sometimes good things pile up in the way that bad things tend to pile up. I am grateful for these little moments where I am reminded that I am alive and that there is good in the world. 

Moving Along

February was a month. I have never really been a fan (Valentine's Day included) maybe because it's a weird transition from winter to spring. Or maybe it's because I never really know what to expect from it.

The crazy thing is that nothing really happened. I went to school. I did homework. I went to work. I ran my monthly groups. But somehow my brain decided I needed to run the gamut of emotions, finally settling into apathy for a good chunk of the month. Good ole' apathy.

I guess it makes sense. It's easier to care about nothing than care about everything, which I do. I care too much about everything. It's exhausting.

But anyway, I promised myself and my writing group that I would make a conscious effort to write more.

I wrote this poem for my Writers on Writing class. I used words from Tongo Eisen-Martin as the skeleton (seen in italics) and sort built the poem around it. It's half found poem, half homage. It doesn't have a title.

Absentee funeral

all hollow bone and

dry heat, breathless

look behind you, witness these

holiday massacres, these

bloody spectacles

midnight

quick, runaway

past the (inter)section, into

quiet oblivion

why not lie, the whole truth

is

crumbling

urban myth

patrons saints of

groggy wine-stained,

masses, sifting through

fog soaked streets

sparkling pollution, diamonds

glittering between bricks

cracked open

we smile, empty

we agree

our convictions

groundless

-Inspired by "Someone's Already Dead" by Tongo Eisen-Martin