Verbal Diarrhea: Part I

Ever been a victim of?

Ever spewed it to your ex?

Ever said SO much fucking shit AND kept talking past the point when you should've shut the FUCK up?

Ever dealt with emotions that you've buried deep inside yourself, for yourself, where you don't even know what you feel, who you feel for or why and suddenly you're on this plane of existence--it's shaky, it's foreign, it's familiar, it's real, it's illusion, it's tumultuous and crazy and inexplicable and spawned from nothing but maybe everything.

Did you ever have someone giving you advice who is SO categorically uNqUaLiFiEd? A person so unfit to speak an ounce of alleged wisdom that their tongue should be removed?

I can't explain what happened tonight, I can't explain why I opened my mouth--I think sometimes I need to hear my own words, to talk something over with myself in order to make sense of something myself, to say something out loud regardless of who I share my voice with. There seems to be but one requisite--said 'hearer' must breathe and walk and, apparently, be inextricably tied to my past. Of my past so as to be THE past, like, THE story that gets told. Whatever.

I'm not being totally honest here. In fact, I'm evading the truth because I don't want to admit the ugly truth--the awful, embarrassing, ugly, backward truth.

For one second or a few, for one day or several, if at all, I think I wanted something back--something I haven't had in a while. Something I haven't wanted in a while. Someone. Him.

It's best explained by understanding that the past few weeks have been something of a soul-shake, a breath-quake--for me, for the kids and surely my honey though we rarely talk about it.

For fuck's sake--it's been cRaZy. I can't even muster the words to categorize the level of crazy, to capture the experience for what it's really worth.

I have felt every emotion available in my arsenal of emotions and I have felt them backwards and I have felt them sideways and I have felt them deep, raw and unprotected, unguarded, exposed. Totally exposed. I have felt them alone, inside, this total internal trip because that's how I roll--this lone warrioress that I suppose myself to be.

But in this total eclipse of the heart, this total darkening, shadowing, I surfaced cleansed of all idiotic notions heretofore unspoken.

It's like, for the past couple weeks, I've had SO many questions that I didn't even know what I wanted to ask. I had so many thoughts, I didn't know what to think. And the emotions tied to all of these questions and thoughts, these emotions that crossed spans of time and criss-crossed again, making them almost current, almost relevant again, almost...real? Like I awoke from a coma where time had moved me forward but my heart was parked in another era.

Only there was no coma and time was steadfast.

"Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you when you think everything's okay"~~Alanis Morissette

Sure as shit.

I embrace my compulsion to speak what's on my mind and I even further embrace and exert my right to experiment within the spectrum of my emotions, to try them out and try them on.

There are times when I think I am a mess--a total wreck. And then there are times when I remind myself, usually in the aftermath, that I am alive. I am just alive and as such, I am open to mishaps and foibles and prone to travel the paths of various emotions, these little links to consciousness that connect us to others, to self and beyond.

As this living being that I am, I am subject to myself and all that implies.