Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i went into her office, it had neutral furniture, all except for the most adorable puppets i had ever seen, of animals, even a grasshopper.
I began talking, and heard myself saying things that
I previously would not, could not admit.
I found myself wide open with the wind blowing through my belly again, a feeling I had managed to shut off and down for sometime now. some where i had felt that being real made me wierd, as even the most loving aquaintences had mentioned jokingly, but it hurt that I was eccentric, an artist, "different" than other people. These people were my friends so I thought.
Recently someone who I thought was my sister, my best friend, betrayed me. Thank God my secrets were not so terrible that it would devastate anyone but me when she began sharing what is no one else s bussiness revealing only my part and eliminating her portion and what she did from the story. I decided not to talk to her ever again. She tried having her daughter whom I love very much call me in an effort to manipulate me to talk with her, under the guise that there was a cat her neighbors were giving away. I politely told her that her mother and I were not speaking to each other and thank you for calling and hung up.
I had a tussle with my roomate recently because she tried to push my door shut when I was trying to come out of my room. She has four mortages and 65 thousand in credit card debt. Whenever she gets freaked out about money she starts hitting me up for more money than I owe. I paid all the utilities from May to
August, and my money tree died.
I just started saying no, and i m buying her out. Living with her and my husband has sent me over the edge. My father suggested I make a list of the things between us that bother me for the counselor s office this fri evening, which is also the same day I am having a tooth extracted, which hopefully will make me listen and present the list, maybe I could even justify taking a pain pill. maybe
a drug addict like me goes pretty out there in the ozone on pain meds. maybe is a word that does not describe the reality of the real pain that I am in.
I do not feel safe talking to him. When I do try he does this wierd behavior that I call punishing silience or the body language of "I cannot deal with you"
I have paid all the bills for one year and given him a truck a 98 GMC and he still has not fixed my mercedes which was part of the deal.
My roomate is crazy. Several people have told me so, they say things like"do not expect her to be reasonable"
I am not sure that I do.
My friends have not known how to deal with me lately as I have a little too much on my plate and my application for case worker was accepted by the state. I am wondering if the case is, that I really am the case.The woman with the nuetral furniture thinks that I need to get my roomate out of my life and that my husband is dismissive.
I am not sure what I think right now except I need to take a shower and do life the best I can. I have an art show coming up of my paintings and that is cool. my son is coming to visit and my friend, one of my oldest friends is coming from Canada , before she goes back to Cali to spend the night here. I know that I am not alone that there is a real important lesson in all of this, I just cannot see it right now. I love my husband I really do, but if I cannot discuss these issues with him or communicate, then well I am going to have to make some changes. that seems to be the only constant anyway...

creativesoul wrote: I began talking, and heard myself saying things that
I previously would not, could not admit.

Long was I sitting—
my body was bending
up from my waist and downwards
I hinged
and cringed
in pain.

It was silencing,
just sitting there waiting—
there with no stretch, no movement.
Silent—
violent
stillness.

I was still loving
(emotional loving)—
I needed love that acted
and acts
and lacks
“Dismiss”—

I’ve valued crying
and weeping and sobbing,
but haven’t—I need quiet
that gets,
that fits
my howls.

Quiet I’m needing,
not silence—I’m pleading
for differentiation:
Quiet
permits
still sounds.

"I began talking,
and heard myself saying
things that I previously
would not,
could not
admit."

I heard myself saying
"Bless you Joel"

Thank you CS.

Joel that poem means more to me than any biblical exegesis, more than any theological expostion.

It is more sincere than any sermon

Thank you again.

Thanks one and all. I have the profound experience of living in the same city, and frequenting the same campus, as CS.
It was she who introduced me to this WONDER of a site...
studioeight!!
In all my days I have been private about MY writing...don't know why? But I do know that SHE touches me. And I thank you ALL again that SHE touches you.
It is one of the pure joys of my days to be able to come here and not only be moved my HER, but by ALL...thanks CS for a community where I can feel.

long time ago before the anti-depressants went bad- before his mother died- before he broke my bheart- who would have thought i could find a piece of my soul locked up in here like a bird in a cage- when i open the door- that bird still sits in the cage
then when everyone is gone- it dances..and has a party- yep= thank GAWD that is over----

unless you look back, you won't know how far you've come.....four and a half years ago can be a lifetime sometimes........perspective can run from A to Z....
sounds like you came out the other side and that's a good thing !

amazing shit this writing stuff...lol

thank you