pendulum slum

that rush when you're trying to get everything out while the stream of thought is there, that you don't even stop to punctuate except for a comma, because it's coming out your fingers the way it's rushing through your head in one frantic, huge run-on sentence. when the pictures in your head blur past at a speed that leaves you so terrified you're going to miss something.

i have a post about music that i'm working on. the trouble is, when it comes to my loves obsessions, there is so much all up in my head that i can't ever unload it in an organized manner. so that one will have to be revised, instead of just a blarrrrff -> headdump -> post. because i want it to mean something, since music means something to me.

lots of time musicking this weekend, anyway. it's one of those safe places i run to. maybe it's weird that i'm content to lay on my floor and stare at the ceiling with my headphones in and just... think... things. the trampoline is also a favorite place to muse/ic.

for as painful as the loneliness gets, i cherish my solitude. they're two heads of the same animal. or two animals with the same head, depending on how you look at it. two versions of the same picture.

(sorry, super quick sketch.) it's easier to convey that way, instead of trying to explain it.

i'm not sad. not in the generic sad-sad way that people would think. it's not a depression, it's a discouragement. a sustained longing to be understood by someone, someone on the same keel that i just can't seem to find anywhere. someone with a breadth and depth to them uncommon in the "someones" that i've met so far.

i don't want someone perfect, i never have. i like scars and rough edges, we've covered this. i just want someone i can talk to, someone who is creative, someone who sees and feels things keenly, with a good sense of humor and a good heart, someone loyal and compassionate, someone with character.

and i mean character in every possible connotation.

i don't need someone to be somebody, i just want them to be a somebody. sans games and gimmicks and garbage. sans all the bravado and pretense that seems to envelop everyone. like you have to expend so much effort to just chip that away and get at what's real that it's easy to just be... exasperated.

augh, these words are so small, so incompatible with the meanings i want to express.

i get tired, is all. of feeling like a half all the time. a crazy pendulum of an iron heart with no pole to magnetize it into a rhythm or purpose.

no anchor rock for this starfish heart.