Author: julien

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Writings

A Time To Be Blue

Summer is over. I feel so sad. It was beautiful, all the green and sun melting everything down. I gave myself those three months to live as an idiotic welfare queen while adjusting to single life. Summer is all about hearts and love. I wish it could last forever.

But now comes the fall. A time for brains and being serious. Its color will be blue. I’m afraid I won’t cut it in this crisp new world. Only 9 months until the women’s shelter stops paying for my home. I need good ideas to enter my brain, but they don’t.

I haven’t crisped yet. I’m trying but the sun is still hot and yellow, melting brains down and hearts feel like fire. The sky is so blue, the EBT cupcakes so delicious. Everything green and frothy. I want to roll in the grass like a pig.

The world is a green paradise but beneath it a dark soil of fear, pain and panic. I bat it down with stress gummies & cough syrup. I say “It is what it is” when disturbing thoughts enter. This locks them in a magical box. I can’t face life head on yet. I’m not safe.

And until I get smart I won’t be safe. I need to think clearly and formulate a plan. But life is a bowl of puzzles and I can’t solve one of them. The second I use my brain I start to cry. I feel like my initial goal of becoming a millionaire this fall is not going to happen.

So I’m choosing a smaller goal. To become a good communicator and learn how to clearly express my needs and desires. To express my will. Which is hard because I’m not always sure if I have one.

When you’re a wife, you don’t need a will. Being willess is almost an asset since it gives you increased flexibility like a body with no bones. But then fate dumps you on the streets and you are expected to have a will. A will as strong as any man’s. People don’t realize wills can’t pop up overnight like a forest.

The only time I am sure of my will is when I am hungry or in extreme pain. Cause I have the will to survive. But even then speaking up on behalf of myself feels like sticking my hand in a blender. I am terrified of displeasing the people around me. This isn’t the same as wanting people to like me. I’m willing to be hated to give the people what they want. Cause sometimes they want a bad guy. They would generally prefer to keep the good guy role for themselves.

Wanting to please & wanting to live up to social expectations are two different worlds. People are rarely in the mood to admire someone. More commonly they need someone to feel superior to. This is where I excel.

I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. Throwing myself under the bus to appease a hot spot in someone else’s psyche. If a friend needed to feel fast, I’d pretend to be slow. I’d lose contests on purpose so the other person could win. I’d perform horribly in plays so someone special in the audience could have the satisfaction of knowing I sucked. I don’t know why. Its just this feeling of terror that I can only be safe by giving people what they want.

I have my finger in the undercurrent of every dynamic. It makes me act strange because those undercurrents are intense. They are made up of things people don’t want to acknowledge. When you touch them they cause weird things to leap out of your mouth as though you are possessed. Like a touching a wire. But I need to release that underlying pressure to feel safe. If there is an undercurrent of anger I try to be the person it can be released upon. Then things feel safe again.

I don’t know how to stop doing this. So I’ll put that puzzle back in the bowl for now. And focus on the immediate task. To clearly express my needs and the desires to the extent that I am aware of them. Even when it seems certain to lead to pain and disaster. Perhaps as I express these bits of will, larger chunks of will will start drifting into my consciousness.

Every morning I’ll tell myself that as I speak up for myself, new doors open for me.

Two blue stones that I’ll keep in my pocket. I hope they teach me how to express myself.
Hillbilly diamonds found on a sidewalk. I hope they’ll make me rich.
Vines climb a barbed wire fence. I wish I could climb it too and reach those lights on the other side.

Mama I ain’t gonna lie. I gone done bad things.
Feeding bits of stick to ducks at night. Summer is so woozy. But you don’t see the bad part. I got here on a motorcycle. Somebody help me.


Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Purple, Magic & Sorcerers

Please Get To The Part

High as dust and I’m walking home
Try to breath but I’m never gonna get it right.
Cuz I know that when I get home then I’m all alone
To face another spooky night.

I know. People tell me everything come and go.
People tell me everything’s far then near no fear my dear
Was is will be but they don’t get it.

Please get to the part where you hurt me.
Please get to the part where you break me down and cry.

In the day you can act that way
Like its all okay and nothings gonna cut me.
Smile and drink like you never think
Like you never feel and nothings gonna drag you home.

Midnight crawling on the graves in the moonlight
Wait for him to tell you goodbye
You’d cry but you’re just too high
Then the open sky fall down upon you.

Please get to the part where you hurt me.
Please get to the part where you break me down and cry.

So many skies
What are those things that move whenever I open my eyes?
So many dreams
I need to find a world where I can be weak so I try to breath but I can’t find it.

Please get to the part where you hurt me.
Please get to the part where you take me down and cry.

Please Get To The PartDownload
Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs

Stars

Nighttime is the right time for a game
Make a move and then you wait if he feels the same
So you float like a ghost in his car
Ride up to the mountain top to watch a falling star

Close your eyes and feel the stream
A world that enters like a dream
His arm around you all you feel
His other hand upon the wheel

Then all the stars come rolling down the river
So far not bad.
Til all the pain will come rolling down his fingers
But maybe it will be okay if you don’t make him mad.

So you drink like a fish in his bar
Laughter shimmer all around you can feel the golden fire
When it floats like a song through your brain
Look into his eyes again if he feels the same

But all the stories that you know
The roads and places where they go
A hill at night that you cant climb
A tree that you cant hide behind

Then all the stars come rolling down the river
So far not bad.
Til all the pain will come rolling down his fingers
Maybe it will be okay if you don’t make him mad.

StarsDownload
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia men My Life Story Writings

Nice Guys

If I was a movie character I would be Rambo, no doubt.

The only way I can feel relaxed around men is when they are threatening to kill me.

Just today someone who had previously said he would curb stomp me then put me out of my misery with a bullet to the brain stem invited me for tacos.

I don’t enjoy being treated poorly but it makes me feel safe. I know what is expected of me. Compliance. In other contexts I don’t know how to function and start to panic. Like really panic.

First my kidneys seize up, then my brain shuts down. This isn’t good in social contexts because healthy people expect you to have a brain. They want you to be Captain of your Ship.

And I’m trying to rewire my brain into Captain Consciousness. But right now it freezes, scans for threats, monitors emotions & tries to glean the wills of other people so they can be followed. Cause it’s seized up in terror, especially around men and the nicer they are the worse the terror gets.

Nice guys feel like a dark fun house where the room is empty and silent and you don’t know which wall the clown is going to come busting through. The longer you have to wait, the worse the terror grows. Pins and needles until finally the clown pops to attack you. Now you can release a blood curdling scream and feel the pain of getting bludgeoned in the head, but regardless being attacked by a clown beats waiting to get attacked by one.

If I’m around a nice guy for extended periods of time, I become unable to move afterwards due to prolonged anxiety. First the kidneys seize, then the brains freeze, then the limbs. This state can last for hours or a day.

And its impossible to relax in his presence. Much less do the things expected of a modern woman like having a will and voice of your own. But these expectations are ridiculous. Can a man know what flavor of ice cream he wants while staring into the eyes of a cobra and trying to sway in just the right way to appease him? He wants whatever flavor the cobra wants because he is the cobra’s little bitch. Every human is a little bitch when they’re waiting for clowns to pop.

Nice guys feel like a tightrope stretched over the Grand Canyon. You know you’re going to make a misstep. Why not plunge to your death now and get it over with?

Missteps are certain because you don’t know the rules. They aren’t the rules you are used to, where doing & saying as little as possible is gold star behavior. Nice guys are fucking demanding. They want you to know your mind, express your mind, run your own business, be a cowgirl. Don’t take shit from no one, have a personality and know how to make your jeep jump like a frog.

Assholes only need you to not contradict them. Let them yell at you without defending yourself. Go into deep freeze mode so you can absorb quantities of anger without getting angry back. Blur out your brain so words wash over you like water. This is my skill set. But nice guys don’t value these skills. Good luck pleasing them.

And when you add to this the fact that the whole nice guy thing is probably an act and a woman eating lizard is going to bust out of his skin at any moment, you can see why they jack up my anxiety.

However, I am actively training my brain to be more positive. To believe in good things & seek them out. Because we won’t know how magical life is unless we look for magic & that all starts with believing. Or at least being open.

Yes, yes, my kidneys say, but also listen to this rhyme I just wrote!

What is a man but a clown in the dark?
Who clown clubs your head then jerks off in a park?

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Uncategorized Writings

Sausage Links, Chains & Patties

Sometimes it is hard to write songs or even blog posts because I lose myself so easily and then I’m not on the right wavelength to tap the muse I want to tap.

And I know why. Because I have certain traits that aren’t socially acceptable, but when I detach from these traits I lose myself and have nothing to say.

There is a pressure to be everything at once but you can’t be. You have to pick your poison and then align with those people who can accept you as you are.

I have certain traits that are socially unacceptable- such as talking about dicks too much- but these traits are actually to cover up a set of traits even more socially unacceptable.

I read in a book once that everyone has a fake personality designed to cover their true weaknesses and this is definitely true for me. The bold act meek & the meek act bold.

Supposedly though, if you drop your compensating mask & allow your true self to shine through you will get much luckier. That is what I read in the book. But in my case it is easier said than done since my true self is a clear blob. How can I express that?

Anyway, let’s talk about sausages. They are my safe place.

What is a sausage?

A dick?

A man?

To me, a sausage is a paradise. The feeling of a moment stretching out in all directions. That bubble of eternity is one link on the sausage chain.

Or sometimes a sausage is a world set apart from other worlds. You are in the ocean and everything is blue, the ocean and the sky, like a blue pearl. That pearl is one link on the sausage chain.

I used to think women contained worlds and men lived inside them. But now I’m wondering if it is the reverse and all realities are created inside men’s dicks plus the dicks of giant men who live in the sky.

Men seem like magical beings to me, for better or worse.

They can change your sense of yourself until you are certain you are a worm.

Or they can lift you out of this world altogether into a link of the sausage chain you have never seen before.

Either way, don’t panic. There is a new link behind every bend and the chain goes on forever.

A cloud? Or a man disguised as a cloud? Men will take the form of whatever you want to see until you chomp the bait.
Mushrooms continue to grow in front of the house where I used to live. James had the locks changed so I can’t see my dogs anymore. Thinking about this hurts too much so I think about sausages instead.

Before changing the locks he started putting weird signs on the door every day when it was my time to see them.
He was allowed to choose anytime for me to see them. 1 hour 3x a week. But no matter what time, it would never be good.
I hope they know I have not forgotten them.

On a happy note- an EBT dinner. I can have all the food I want now, although fresh fruits & vegetables are hard to come by.
A tip jar. I’ve started playing music by myself since I broke up with my bass player. He thought he should be able to dicktate which songs I was and wasn’t allowed to play even in his absence. This seemed to me like an overreach. I miss the deep watery sounds of the bass though. And having someone who could drive and set up equipment.
Meat sent these to boost my confidence. Dust of Slut, Essence of Testicles, Lez Vibes & Self-Doubt Eliminator. But I find Essence of Testicles works for almost every situation. I’ve always been a huge believer in dick and ball magic.
I did a gofundme to raise 11 dollars so I could buy this poster. I don’t know why it speaks to me. And I don’t know if I should hang it in the kitchen as a welcome or the bedroom as a warning. To myself. To never trust in no one else. Except it takes trust to reach paradise.
Fur sausage. My doggies inhabit their own link of Sausage Time. We will find a way to see each other again.
A bouquet for the poor.
Clouds above the Lettuce Patch for the Poor, plus a ball. But the lettuces have grown tall and thin and don’t seem edible anymore.
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Plants and the Emerald Kingdom

The Bear

Hi…. You know I am realizing one of my huge problems in life is being too hyper and impatient. I can’t bear taking more than 5 minutes to record a song & during that time I also managed to destroy a frying pan I really loved by setting it on fire, losing one bowl of macaroni and cheese by dropping it on the floor, one box of straws by dropping it on floor and breaking my headphones all because I couldn’t resist trying to eat dinner and record at the same time. And I melted a grill lighter on a lit stovetop.

The world was cold there was no easy place.
The world was flat nowhere to hide.
The winds would blow in a disorienting way,
Then they’d grow still from time to time.

The people run to you with smiles upon their faces
Then they twirl and disappear into a hat.
You were supposed to know which words were true
And which ones you should not believe but how could you know that?

The grass was green a checkerboard that never ended.
The men were tall and thin like stilts.
They danced so fancy with their bodies twirled and bended
Then they’d tip their hat and like a leaf they’d wilt.

They left green hearts upon the grass where you could see them
But it wasn’t clear what any of them meant.
Reach down to touch one and it disappears beneath your hand
But maybe that was never their intent.

The sun would rise while you were still asleep
To fill the air with yellow clowns.
Their yellow faces through your sleepy eyes looked queer
And so you’d close your eyes and lie back on the ground.

You’d wait til noon when you could see the men come running
On their skinny legs beneath the happy sun.
Maybe I’ll watch them dance and clap for them for one more day
A seal inside their yellow tent of fun.

But when the night came there was no relief.
It poured down like a jet black wave.
You shook with cold and an emotion much like grief
As though your feelings made a difference to a bear inside his cave.

The stars were shining but too far away to hear you
And the greatest bear was nowhere to be found.
You tried to think there must be something that you missed
But all your thoughts would squirt then dribble to the ground.

So close your eyes and let the memories come back
To spread like ink upon a page.
It could be that life is just a dream that we can’t understand
And you must lie unmoving while the stars dance in their cage.

The BearDownload

Her fur reminds me of a warm safe place where as a child I’d hide.



Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Plants and the Emerald Kingdom

Not Alone

Grass is green
A sunny day
Come outside alone let’s play!

Slip and slide
The riverside
Should we take a water ride now?

I love you sooo
Let’s fly away
Clouds blur into another day.

You don’t tell me you need me
You lay my shoes down on the floor.
I ask you why but I won’t get an answer
Still I’m not alone anymore.

Clouds fly
I chase them, why?
Come my friend let’s run so high!

You and I
Together we
Crawl across the grass so green oh!

You take my hand
We roll and sway
Clouds stretch into another day.

You don’t tell me you need me
You lay my shoes down on the floor.
I ask you why but I won’t get an answer
Still I’m not alone anymore.

Sun shines
The future climbs
High above us like a vine.

We two
Upon the grass
Covered by a space so vast oh!

Please take my hand
Let’s roll and sway
Down by the river waiting for the rain.

You don’t tell me you need me
You lay my shoes down on the floor.
I ask you why but I won’t get an answer
Still I’m not alone anymore.

Not AloneDownload
Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own Red, Soldiers, & Fire Uncategorized

The Voices

Do you hear all the voices?
They converge like a cloud
Clutch my head and I hide in a corner
They follow me follow me round.

They say life is a quick dream
Now it’s time to awake
Let your legs carry you to the river
And wash away every mistake.

You could fly!!!!

Watch my eyes in the mirror
How they float to the side
I can feel them behind me they stand
And they place all the thoughts in my mind.

They say life is an imprint
On a window so clear
First you have to release from your body
And then you’ll know everything’s real.

You could fly!!!!

Please, I just want to stay
There’s a man who I could love again
So I forced my hands thru the dirt
But what do you feel feel feel feel?

I feel hurt.

So you’ll come to the river
We’ll release all the pain
Like a shell sinking down to the bottom
Our hands falling on you like rain.

You could fly!!!!!

Please stop let me think twice
There could be fire, a new paradise
I dreamt red drops dripping like rain
But what do you feel feel feel feel?

I feel pain.

The VoicesDownload

Chaos view.
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story On My Own Uncategorized Writings

No Home

I shouldn’t be sad. I’m having the “You have no place in this world to call home” transit and everything is happening as God intended but still….

There is no place in this world to call home.

The weird part is in the absence of any home how much my life has expanded.

I just got ‘home’ from performing on two different stages and walking around downtown by myself at night. Walking thru sketchy areas at night has become a slight addiction. Why do they say you’re not supposed to do that? So far I haven’t found out.

But I wonder if this growth is leading anywhere or if life will be a never ending series of random events and people. I should be patient since it’s only been a month and a half since I moved out and the first month was spent trying not to die of heartbreak.

It’s just that there is no one to tell anything to. Not that there really was before since James didn’t like me to talk. But even writing in journals to yourself feels different when you are part of a home and a family. I can’t really write in journals anymore because I’m too unsettled and at the same time have more happiness than ever before.

If happiness means a high and fluttery feeling.

But I also had happiness in my old life when I would cry in bed everyday. It was a different kind of happiness though, like the way you feel in a soft pink egg. Even in sadness there was a feeling of peace.

Our spirit is made of fire and air. It propels us outwards & forwards, towards people and the future. Our soul is made of water and earth, a soft gooey dough that absorbs all experiences. Happy or sad, all experiences become meaningful when they encounter the soul’s soft body.

In my old life my spirit was trapped. Now it’s free. Yet my soul is nowhere to be found. Friends are not family. You can’t cry around them and if you do it’s some big fucking deal where you have to apologize afterwards. You can’t share the minutia of life that is the soul’s food. You can’t gorge on donuts and sink into a coma. You have to be on and up. Fire & air.

And I’m grateful for the newness. But it’s hard to settle down. I dance all the time. Sometimes I run rather than walk. Without a soul, you have so much energy.

But this is my predestined time of wandering the earth like a spirit. I need to make the best of my “There is no place for you to call home” transit and have faith that life will eventually congeal.

I used my EBT card to buy Twinkies. They are good but more spirit than soul, unlike fresh baked pastries.
An egg pauses for his moment in the limelight.
He had his portrait painted too.

In astrology, the sun is your spirit and the moon is your soul. My moon lives in the house of marriage so getting unmarried was disruptive soul-wise. However, there is a little trick with this placement where it can also mean having an emotional relationship with The Public, a gooey blob of unknown minds.

So in the absence of a James, I started sharing minutia from my life on facebook. Which caused people to attack me for being an attention seeking whore. But I blocked them for being stupid. Because it isn’t attention the moon craves. It’s ooey gooey connection.

I had to take a picture of myself with a guitar for some gigs.
This picture sums up my previous life. There was a lot of crying but damn…. doesn’t that bed look firm and plump? I miss it.

It’s not so much circumstances that are bugging me out as the questions… is love real, is home real, is anything real? What is there in life that weighs more than paper? I thought I would have a family in eternity. I even thought my house would be with me in heaven. When I was painting its walls, I felt I was building something permanent.

Oops.

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs On My Own

I am Water

Push me back onto my feet
Where life can bring so many things I know
No where to belong.

Push me back onto the wall
I wont need you catch me when I fall
Water on my own.

What I feel is calm
What I feel is slow
Push me to the wall
Down onto the floor

Step inside the ring
Push me to the side
What I feel is you
What I do is hide.

Close your eyes or go to sleep
One million ways to never feel a thing
Do you want to take that ride?

Close your eyes then find a way
Another world is never far away
Just three cuts and then you fly.

What I feel is calm
What I feel is slow
Push me to the wall
Down onto the floor

Step inside the ring
Push me to the side
What I feel is you
What I do is hide.

Push me back onto my feet
Where life can bring so many things I go
Moving through the crowd.

Lost inside I’ll find a way
One million ways to never see the day
Turn your eyes onto the ground.
What I feel is calm
What I feel is slow
Push me to the wall
Feel the water flow

Step inside the ring
Push me to the side
What I feel is you
What I do is hide.

Pictures come just like a dream
Then fade I don’t know what I should believe
Were you really there at all?

Were you there when I was down?
Were you the one carried me to ground?
Water for a home.

What I feel is calm
What I feel is slow
Push me to the wall
Down onto the floor

Step inside the ring
Push me to the side
What I feel is you
What I do is hide.

I am WaterDownload
Backing up for full chaos view. Being single really does feel like being bombarded by winds in a world with no gravity. Thats the worst part. People focus a lot on how they are treated in relationships but the thing is that regardless of how you are treated, loyalty to someone else is a gift you give yourself, since it centers, condenses & focuses your energy.

To be pulled in all directions simultaneously, with no one thing having greater or lesser claim on you is disorienting.

Maybe if I had more money then I could enjoy blowing in the wind b/c I wouldn’t fear being dashed upon rocks at any moment. I may have gotten my income up to $500 a month however, due to having a second gig each week.

Maybe the air is blowing me in the right direction and in the end it will all be okay. My plan for being single had been to paint little signs with flowers & bible verses and hang them everywhere. To make God my replacement husband & gravity center. But the reality is too chaotic for that.

And also, although God is superior to a husband in the sense of being all powerful, all knowing & perfect, he is inferior because you have to use your own brain to connect with him and my brain is too overwhelmed already. There is no space to associate with more beings of the sky.