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By Misti Date: 2004 Oct 12 Comment on this Work [[2004.10.12.18.35.18777]] |
| This is what it feels like to live outside the proverbial comfort zone. There is no safety here. This is the edge I always dreamed of and romanticized. I had my first taste of this in 1995. Here it is again in a new form with a new face and a new city. I feel the sore on my upper lip. I feel the dread in the pit of my stomach. Today was blistering hot in the high desert but I wore my black leather jacket. Drove around numb. You were smiling and talking about the house we'll someday own in Rio Rancho. I showed you where I worked a year ago. At Sonic I shed a few tears. I am not allowed those anymore, thankfully. No more crying jags. I'm reformed. I have a few self-indulgences left...the occasional bubblebath and candy bar. My PEZ dispenser collection is still intact. I am broke, again. Overdrawn. Just enough gas in the car to get me through the rest of the week. The girl who promised me the sweet office job doing data entry all day long for ten bucks an hour is not returning my phone calls. My car is filthy and full of crap I have no place for. Rent is overdue and a friend fucked me out of almost two hundred dollars but the manager is understanding."You're just getting on your feet," he said. I hear you scream in pain. I've been hearing your screams for months. I am almost numb now. In your sleep you said,"Maybe I SHOULD move to Canada." A friend loaned us money for the Michael Moore thing at the Pit. We're still shooting the show. I think of leaving you again, knowing that if I leave you again there will be no more chances. We will be through. Another lesson learned. More karma to clumsily store away. More baggage. No more room for baggage in my life. I am a gypsy, absolutely. I dreamed of this. The taste is more bitter than I thought it would be. I have beat my wings and head against countless bars. I am free now but I am not flying. I am not a cautionary tale. There is no moral to this story. Do whatever the fuck you want. Take the risk. Jump ship. Enjoy the cold deep swirling water before you drown. Maybe you'll be smiling. |