Aug. 27th, 2018 02:59 am
It's getting cooler already
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shalyndraEver since I moved back to California, I've been grieving each change of season. It feels so wrong.
I'm watching time march forward, separated from the life I want. My dog gets older and I nervously check for her breath when she is asleep. Summer here is fire season, I enjoy a brief fall and then there's a hint of winter, a brief spring, these are punctuated by the mocking pool I can barely use anyway and watching my fermentation recipes fail, and then it's fire season but there's still not enough sun and heat to grow my plants. Sands fall and I get older, I pretend I'm a tree and immune to the time, that in two years time or ten maybe I will have the life I want and not the purgatory here. And yet I don't know if I will get to keep myself that I found so recently, will there be more lost years, or will it get better and then just stay hard like rotten fruit because I'm better but not well enough to thrive or even survive.
I need projects to stay sane and stay safely in my head, which isn't all that safe, really. I miss music so bitterly, some day I want a break from the screaming in my head to just blast some music and dance and make bad art. Maybe I'll just put the same song on repeat for a week and stretch a good moment and paint some things or screw up part of a house and then strategize about how to fix it.
i can't figure out people
then there's the cat I didn't choose throwing a wrench in things. I daydream about him and I grieving my dog together and that somehow that softens the blow of taking him many somewheres new while i figure this all out. sometimes i think that when she dies he and i will both just drift off to new lives
I'm watching time march forward, separated from the life I want. My dog gets older and I nervously check for her breath when she is asleep. Summer here is fire season, I enjoy a brief fall and then there's a hint of winter, a brief spring, these are punctuated by the mocking pool I can barely use anyway and watching my fermentation recipes fail, and then it's fire season but there's still not enough sun and heat to grow my plants. Sands fall and I get older, I pretend I'm a tree and immune to the time, that in two years time or ten maybe I will have the life I want and not the purgatory here. And yet I don't know if I will get to keep myself that I found so recently, will there be more lost years, or will it get better and then just stay hard like rotten fruit because I'm better but not well enough to thrive or even survive.
I need projects to stay sane and stay safely in my head, which isn't all that safe, really. I miss music so bitterly, some day I want a break from the screaming in my head to just blast some music and dance and make bad art. Maybe I'll just put the same song on repeat for a week and stretch a good moment and paint some things or screw up part of a house and then strategize about how to fix it.
i can't figure out people
then there's the cat I didn't choose throwing a wrench in things. I daydream about him and I grieving my dog together and that somehow that softens the blow of taking him many somewheres new while i figure this all out. sometimes i think that when she dies he and i will both just drift off to new lives