Shams' Muse

is there not a single moment of joy not cut by the bitterness a sour milk taste of fear that lingers as an aftertaste you were here, then gone, giddy to come, giddy to go, and I was some inbetween place, some stopping point along your life, the happiest year of your life. it will be a year soon. two months from now. a year did i change so much? I've never eaten so much bacon, drank so much beer. But I've felt this alone, many times. I've felt this abandonned. Why did I not learn in all those years to stand on my own two feet. Or maybe I did and my natural state is just despondent and self-pitying, sad and longing. I can't remember a 24 hour stretch in the 365 days in which I was happy nonstop. But there are those that are sad. It must be some kind of gravitational pull that draws me in.

don't let go of your idealism, shams because otherwise, it's all downhill from here.

the last autumn roses are so red they are brown petals dry at the ends, waiting for winter to claim them, or a merciful soul to cut them and let them fall in place. so i worry, so i worry. everything has its season. everything. the best plants have deep roots that are trained by necessity to siphon the smallest drops from the soil. drought, after drought, and they do not die but become stronger. not this, not us, not eden.

my mind is a mess, shams, and I know that sometimes one needs to not be in one's mind. I blame many things, many things, this rage welling, this spleen expanding, this bile, this angry saliva. everyone fails me again, always again. friends are too busy with their own little children, their own little preoccupations. friends are too addicted to their own addictions. and friends just forget me. either that, or they avoid me. paranoia being a symptom of the delusions, an inability to just see a sting as a passing irritation, and instead having a full blown allergic meltdown. i hate everyone. my cat is perfect.

I will be to you, so you will be to me milder, kinder, gentler. In my power, so your power, and if I am rushed and if I am without, then that is how I am. But let me be better than I am. Let me be this. *** note from the author -- I was very inspired by a line I heard today. I think it is from the Koran or possibly from the collected sayings of Mohammad. It said "I am as my servant thinks I am." It is meant to apply to Allah. If you think Allah good and kind, so he will be with you. If you think him vengeful, so he will be with you. However, I understood more in the realm of human interaction, that the opinion of the "lowest" person one deals with, one's servant, is the true revelation of one's character. If others think me unkind, then I am unkind. I am not entirely sure if I believe that, in the Platonic sense that one must be measured against universals, not public opinion. However, in terms of encouraging people to be good to one another... No doubt, th...

creature and friend, when you jump like that, my heart halts and hangs in the air as your acrobatic endeavors send you twisting but not quite to your feet and you sit up and lick a paw, as if you meant to fall. graceless, cat, you are so graceless, but clever with words and good at trouble.

good to know i did not die yesterday good to know i'm here because there's sun and i wonder what infection is in my head that leaks through every step I take as I run slowly, slowly past Christmas decor. Accursed time moves too fast.