rainy. rainy. rainy. blue.

I am getting to the point where I see that parts of me are beyond repair. I have given away these part of me that hurt, the hurting parts, over and over. Everyone promises to fix me. Everyone promises to be better. I am having a hard time deciding if I want to even try anymore, to be fixed. Sometimes at pilates Rolando will give me a really hard exercise and I will say "that seems like alot of work". I never use the words in life- I can't. I don't want to. I just say, "that seems like alot of work". Well, it seems like alot of work to trust, love, fall, or even pretend that anything makes sense. What does not seem like alot of work is focusing on myself, hanging with my doggie and singing Robyn tunes at the top of my lungs in my car. Being lonely is not so bad, unless of course, it rains for 4 days in the desert. Then it feels like the whole desert is wallowing in your emotions. I love the smell of rain. I hate the feel of gloom.

It seems alot easier to just fix myself, board up that ol' heart of mind and start using my noggin' instead. I am gonna become that old woman with cats, dogs and who sells her crafts at the farmers market on the weekends. Not so bad, I heard they make killer popcorn at the farmers market...