some lines from my journal oct 2019-oct 2020

i have not felt fully formed in a while
i was floating, you see
i have learnt that sometimes that is all that’s needed — a hug that says i see you, i am sorry you are hurting, i am here for you, always
i remember a line of a would-be poem about sleeping in a bed of moss, covered in a blanket of woven four-leaf clovers
now it is evening, and i am heavy with Day
i wake up to a spider watching me from the wall
it’s all rush rushing underneath until i stop to feel the quiet
sometimes i feel like i’ve gone backwards
an update — i have read some Anne Carson & i am feeling more full of self now
i’m still hopeful for this year, i’m still hopeful
tense & on edge & then i realise the day is gone
it’s the way i want to start feeling about myself again — soft, loving, full of warmth & gentleness & endless compassion & forgiveness & patience & love, so much love
but i still feel as though i am moving closer towards the person i want to be, doing the things i want to do
i am so tired & am beginning to feel i may never not be (so i am trying to find space in the crevices of time to come back to myself)
as i was shaving my legs in the shower this morning i had that thought that i feel abstractly in my skin from time to time — that life is nothing but the process of coming back to yourself
last night i dreamt my teeth fell out, i still remember the feeling of gums
trying so so so so hard to be soft when i am scared
sorry these fragments are all i have to offer
rereading my journal & it’s sad to remember how much hope i had for this year
i forget what it feels like to have a feeling so strong i couldn’t resist writing it down
i feel unacquainted with myself
(remember when i used to blog?)
my whole life has been about figuring out how to feel like me — how to feel like i am in my body, how to feel like i’m the person i was yesterday, the person in the mirror, the person who wrote these words
i’m scared to put down the pen in case i don’t pick it up again for another month
and she’ll ask me how i feel and it’s like that question echoes in my brain and scares all the feelings away
i walk into my room and there’s that feeling of oh!, & i’m jolted out of whatever mindlessness i was inhabiting
i have been thinking often of campos
i think what i miss more than anything is the freedom to structure my days — it was terrifying at first and some days i would feel heavy and get the order all wrong, but some days were just right — the feeling of sunlight on my cheek and the clarity of having written a new poem
i look in the mirror & i feel like i see myself
i forgot how many tears i contain
lately i haven’t been wanting to get out of bed but then at night when i rest my head my heart is racing & so are my thoughts and i have to take a really deep breath to try and calm myself down, and then i think wow this is the first conscious breath i’ve taken all day and that makes me sad
i feel like i’m going in circles, or backwards, or nowhere
i am trying i am trying i am trying
i am tense in my body, gritting my teeth & clenching my fists, even in sleep
maybe i’ve stopped trying for catharsis
no matter how absolutist i get, i don’t think it’s ever truly lost
i am moving towards something that is destined to be mine in the future

By em

a sometimes poet, sometimes painter, always philosopher

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