the slow dance of the infinite stars.

I walked into the bathroom at work and glanced at the mirror and what I saw staring back at me nearly knocked me to the ground. 

I saw scars.

the entire left side of my face was covered in scars that stretched out when I smiled.

two seconds.

thats all it took for my mind to turn on me.

two seconds and a glass that reflects an image.

I’m trapped in my head, and the things I see are more horrible than you can even imagine, and I’m the only one who seems to be able to see them.

no more mirrors from now on. I’ll close my eyes, I’ll look away, I don’t want to see that again.

christmas lights and christmas music and christmas tree lots and ice on windshields and the way the cold smells and the way it feels to wake up in the morning wanting nothing more than to burrow further under your covers and fall back asleep.

I do love winter.

the whole point of having a mind numbing office job is that you don’t take your work home with you…..

on an unrelated note: I have rehearsal tonight.

I met a cute boy at the office.

Sarah canceled our afternoon coffee date,which is probably a good thing since I had to stay a little later at the office to look for missing files ( which are still missing. I ended up giving up, thinking it better not to stress over the file and try to look for it with a fresh pair of eyes in the morning.)

Robert said that I get “silly” at four o’clock, and maybe I do. then again, I’m pretty much silly all of the time: I tell jokes and I do little dances and I end up talking in accents ( today I slipped into a brittish accent while talking to julianna it made her laugh) or I smile too widely or laugh too much. Silly beats being depressed right? I mean, its a nice break, not thinking, making other people happy,focusing on other people: that’s the whole point, that’s the trick, the magic secret to being less depressed.

I found a wonderful new musician by accident: Matt Butcher, I quite like his voice, he reminds me of Joey Ryan and goodness knows I love that boy’s music.

about riding bikes in winter: the way the wind comes up from behind you and whips your hair around, the way everything speeds up when you’re going downhill, so that if you angle your body in just the right way you could almost, almost be flying.

about the crunch of gravel beneath your feet: the way it sounds the same as it did when you were five, ten, fifteen. unchanging.

about sitting in the bleachers of an empty baseball field: the way time seems to stop for a minute as the leaves rustle and the wind kisses your cheek, the way you seem to forget everything, and just allow yourself to be: letting words float around in your head without grasping for them, without trying to make sense of them, just acknowledging their presence and letting them go about their business.

about sitting on a fence post: the way you’re feet just dangle inches above the ground, the way you feel suspended, untouchable.

about saying hello to strangers: like the cowboy on the bike trail who was walking the miniature poodle ( yes, that happened).

about living in the moment: like how sometimes everything gets to be too much, like how you get so overwhelmed that it feels like everything is starting to fall apart….. like the few and far between moments that just seem to click: where everything makes sense. its times like that that you want to bottle everything up, take every ounce of goodness and lock it in a jar and set it on a mantle so that nothing bad can touch it, because who knows when the next good moment is going to happen, and you might need a reminder that good things do happen, and nothing is ever all bad, and there is some sort of light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

they’re playing christmas music everywhere now.

there are people walking around town wearing scarfs and earmuffs and mittens and they’ve decorated the arches with christmas wreaths, and put “candles” in the lamps.

it is windy and somewhat cold and you can smell winter in the air.

today is another one of those in between days where I feel strangely detached. maybe its because I’m bored, maybe its because I’m dreading having to work tomorrow, maybe its because I am waiting for something… I just don’t know what that something is yet.

there’s change in the air.

things are about to happen.

there’s this feeling of expectation, and if you reach your hand out you can touch it.

at least that’s what it feels like.

then again, I’m always thinking of changes, so maybe its only my restless spirit playing tricks on my mind.

1) blow on the already frosted over windows of cars as you pass and pretend you have harvested the powers of winter.

2) do pirouettes in the middle of the street because it is almost ( sort of ) iced over, and its almost like ice skating.

3) try to blow “smoke” rings.

4) laugh at how bright the stars look because it just rained and everything always looks brighter/fresher after its been raining.

5) smile. you’re alive.

Today while I was waiting for my car to get fixed I started to read Marilyn Monroe’s book ” Fragments”. Its kind of strange really, reading her journal entries and poetry and personal letters, eerie in a way but comforting at the same time. Maybe its because I can relate to some of the things she writes.

Here is one entry that particularly struck a chord:

fear of giving me the lines new,

maybe won’t be able to learn them

maybe I’ll make mistakes.

people will think I’m either no good or laugh or belittle me or think I can’t act.

women looked stern and critical- unfriendly and cold in general.

afraid the director won’t think I’m any good.

remembering when I couldn’t do a god damn thing.

then trying to build myself up with the 

fact that I have done things right that

were even good and have had moments that were excellent

but the bad is heavier to carry around and feel have no confidence

depressed. mad.

endless reminders of a stupid boy and my stupid decision.

screw letting this depression eat me alive.

screw stomach aches and acid and food phobias.

screw self doubt and self hatred and self loathing.

screw scales and numbers and tags inside of clothing.

I’ve been sitting her for most of the day with this odd sense of nothingness filling my chest.

I’ve been walking around the house in a very mechanical way: step, step, open, step, step, sit. step, step, blink, step, step, breathe….. I’ve been running on fucking autopilot again: and it scares the heck out of me because I don’t know what I’m doing when I get like this. I don’t know who I am. I just check out. I’m not really here. for hours on end I can be sitting right in front of you but really I’m a million miles away and I’m so tired of all of it.

my point is: I’m going to take a shower. I’m going to drink some water and take a vitamin, I’m going to put on some music and write in my journal and then I’m going to go for a run. Its better to have a plan of action. Its better to be awake. I can’t sleep forever. I can’t just check out like this. I can’t just sit here and give in and let everything happen. I have a say in this. I have a say in what I think and how I react and what I’m doing, I’m not a robot. 

I’m not.

not yet.