Ok.... Where do I start?
I had a dream..... This dream felt like real life. In my dream I was being hugged tightly by some unknown guy. We were spooning. He had golden arms and a tribal-esque tattoo on his left upper arm. Although I couldn't see his face nor did I know his name, I felt protected and wanted. I woke up swearing someone was in bed with me!
For the rest of the day I have had the oddest sensation of still feeling this dream-
stranger's arms around me. He's not real but I missed him... I crave that initimacy. It feels like such a long time has passed since I had that in my life.
So what do I do about it? First I tried researching the dream's meaning but none of the info I found rang true for me.
What did I do next? I signed up for an online dating site. What the heck!?!?!? Since when do I even consider doing something like this???? I'm the one that smirks at this kind of stuff but here I am, the newest online dating member all because I missed having the dream-stranger's arms around me... Oy vey!
But this isn't the only wacky thing I have been up to lately. Nope, there's more. Let's begin with the very fact that I am even typing these words on the blog I abandoned a very long time ago. Add to that my crazy commitment to have written a novel by Feb. 25th, 2013 (my bestfriend was my witness so I can't back out now). And now I've made the very abrupt decision to go to Egypt & Israel before my birthday. Since Friday I've been scouring travel guides, hotel websites, air flight deals, figuring out my budget and seeking a travel companion (via FB no less!) although in all likelyhood I will end up going solo.
What has come over me???? I'm off kilter for sure but not in a terribly bad way. Let's see how this all plays out. In the meantime wish me well!
Blessings,
*michelle
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Monday, August 23, 2010
Yet again, I digress
I don't know why it is that when I'm around you I feel as if I can't give voice to what I want to say. My words seem trapped deep within me so I stay silent and just look at you knowing that you expect something to be said. So more often then naught we talk about you - I learn things about you I never knew before and you repeat things you've told me or shown me many times before. All the while those unspoken words burn within me...
As I talk to you I'm only capable of uttering half-truths, expressing incomplete thoughts, making partial statements... I say things like "no, I don't want you", "no I'm not attracted to you" I say it like it's final but in truth I lie because how could I not want you? It's obvious that I am attracted to you... You know that I'm lying but how do I put into words that I don't want to want you? How do I let you know that feeling this way about you hurts me to the core? I'm scared to speak those words out loud because I don't want to make them any more real then what they are. If I don't say them then it's like it isn't so. If I don't tell you then you can't have the power to knowingly hurt me. Although I can justify the cause for not saying them, those words still burn fiercely deep within me.... struggling to get out.
Fall/Winter 2009
As I talk to you I'm only capable of uttering half-truths, expressing incomplete thoughts, making partial statements... I say things like "no, I don't want you", "no I'm not attracted to you" I say it like it's final but in truth I lie because how could I not want you? It's obvious that I am attracted to you... You know that I'm lying but how do I put into words that I don't want to want you? How do I let you know that feeling this way about you hurts me to the core? I'm scared to speak those words out loud because I don't want to make them any more real then what they are. If I don't say them then it's like it isn't so. If I don't tell you then you can't have the power to knowingly hurt me. Although I can justify the cause for not saying them, those words still burn fiercely deep within me.... struggling to get out.
Fall/Winter 2009
Your touch
My arms craved your touch tonight. My skin cried out silently for you to caress it, to run your fingers down my arms, to touch me... Touch me. I felt like weeping from the absence of your hands on my limbs... Not once was my hunger satisfied... Not once. Touch me please... Touch me as if you were my lover, as if it's all you want to do for the rest of your life. Touch me with your fingertips, with your hands... Let skin meet skin even if only for a little bit. Touch me with your body, with your lips - oh how I ache for your lips.... Let's let our thoughts touch, the essence of you and me so deeply intertwined so that there is no end or beginning - just you and me as one. Touch me with your heart... Allow me to touch your heart... To make it skip a beat...For it's rythym to beat for me as mine beats for you.
Summer/Fall 2009
Summer/Fall 2009
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Reaffirmation
Have you ever messed up so badly that you can't believe you did whatever it was you just did? How do you feel when you uncover your seemingly catastrophic mistake? Yesterday I made a mistake... Today I've learned about it. The feeling that comes over me originates right from the base of my stomach. It's what I imagine blanched vegetables must feel like: taken from a pot of boiling hot water and then dipped unceremoniously into a vat of ice cold water. A wave of coldness comes over me that can't seem to quell the boiling heat still emanating from the pit of my stomach.
I hate that feeling... I despise that sensation. And there's no cure for it. I simply need to let it take its course. In the meantime I try my best to undo the damage of my carelessness. Trying to stem a flood although I don't yet know how big this flood is. Feeling helpless and stupid. So so stupid. How could I be so dumb? I stepped outside my regular pattern without meaning to and now I'm faced with the results of this transgression. My happy Saturday went by the wayside... A casualty of Friday's stupidity. DOA as of 1:38pm. My carefree feeling as I walk down 1st Avenue on a beautiful summer day has been wiped clean. And I have no one to blame or share the blame with but myself.
18 minutes later my Saturday continues... I've done what repair work I can do from where I am. I try to re-engage in what I was doing before 1:38pm. Trying valiantly to resuscitate my Saturday. I open my mouth and words come out. I pick up my yakitori skewer and chew... and chew some more. All of its deliciousness now wasted on a palate that tastes nothing but the acridity of my own high-strung nerves. My eyes look around, seeing without really seeing. This is what it must be like for zombies. How sad. Unable to engage my senses in the plethora of opportunities that surround me. The needle has slipped off of my internal mental record - I'm stuck on repeat.
My companion and I leave the restaurant and ease our way up to 72nd Street. Poor thing, she's now as much a victim of my stupidity as I am. Stuck with someone who just can't let go and make the most of this beautiful day. Quite suddenly a light bulb comes on in the recesses of my brain: Cupcakes! And just as quickly I was sure if I only had a red velvet cupcake from the Buttercup Bake Shop I would feel better. Oh, I knew this one indulgence wouldn't solve my problems or erase my mistake but I was convinced that if anything could get me back to enjoying my day (at least more so than I had been enjoying it) this would be it. Maybe that's flawed fat girl logic in action but it seemed like pretty sound thinking to me.
I'm filled with purpose now and it's slowly (too slowly if you ask me) combating that hideous blanched sensation, kind of like white blood cells gathering up to fight off whatever ails me (just make me well again, dammit!). Every fiber of my being rallies behind this plan. Come on m72 bus! Hurry your big bulky automobile ass over here!!!! The bus arrives and I scream, "Buttercup Bake Shop, stat!" to the bus driver. Ok... Perhaps that was an internal silent scream but you get my point, right? This was urgent!
Finally, we arrive to our destination. With the red velvet cupcake in sight, it's sad that I'm so much more anticipating the curative effects of this way over priced baked treat than what it's yummy goodness is intended for. I pay for my treat and my friend's german chocolate selection. As I walk to the table clutching the small plastic plate that held my much needed bounty, Coldplay's song 'Sparks' comes on... It's a song that I've heard so many times over the years and know all of the words to. And to everyone else in the shop it was just another song on the play list, but to me in that very moment it was God's voice. And He sang to me "But I promise you this, I'll always look out for you. That's what I'll do."
That's when I knew that coming to this bakeshop wasn't about some delicious cupcake that could somehow make things feel not as horrid as they were. No... This visit to this shop was about hearing these precise words when I needed to hear them most. There's not one speck of doubt within me that leads me to interpret it any other way. I realized all of this right away. I proceeded to sit down and participate in genuine conversation with my amiga while eating every last crumb of that red velvety goodness. I can't say that all was well in my world right after that but I was able to salvage my Saturday enough to find some enjoyment in the rest of that day... More importantly, I was reminded that no matter how badly or how often I mess up in this life, I won't be abandoned. A benevolent someone or something, so much greater than me and any mistake I could ever commit or fathom, is looking out for me. Knowing that makes me feel good.
Tori Shin, west bound m72 bus, Buttercup Bake Shop and uptown 1 train - 8/21/10
I hate that feeling... I despise that sensation. And there's no cure for it. I simply need to let it take its course. In the meantime I try my best to undo the damage of my carelessness. Trying to stem a flood although I don't yet know how big this flood is. Feeling helpless and stupid. So so stupid. How could I be so dumb? I stepped outside my regular pattern without meaning to and now I'm faced with the results of this transgression. My happy Saturday went by the wayside... A casualty of Friday's stupidity. DOA as of 1:38pm. My carefree feeling as I walk down 1st Avenue on a beautiful summer day has been wiped clean. And I have no one to blame or share the blame with but myself.
18 minutes later my Saturday continues... I've done what repair work I can do from where I am. I try to re-engage in what I was doing before 1:38pm. Trying valiantly to resuscitate my Saturday. I open my mouth and words come out. I pick up my yakitori skewer and chew... and chew some more. All of its deliciousness now wasted on a palate that tastes nothing but the acridity of my own high-strung nerves. My eyes look around, seeing without really seeing. This is what it must be like for zombies. How sad. Unable to engage my senses in the plethora of opportunities that surround me. The needle has slipped off of my internal mental record - I'm stuck on repeat.
My companion and I leave the restaurant and ease our way up to 72nd Street. Poor thing, she's now as much a victim of my stupidity as I am. Stuck with someone who just can't let go and make the most of this beautiful day. Quite suddenly a light bulb comes on in the recesses of my brain: Cupcakes! And just as quickly I was sure if I only had a red velvet cupcake from the Buttercup Bake Shop I would feel better. Oh, I knew this one indulgence wouldn't solve my problems or erase my mistake but I was convinced that if anything could get me back to enjoying my day (at least more so than I had been enjoying it) this would be it. Maybe that's flawed fat girl logic in action but it seemed like pretty sound thinking to me.
I'm filled with purpose now and it's slowly (too slowly if you ask me) combating that hideous blanched sensation, kind of like white blood cells gathering up to fight off whatever ails me (just make me well again, dammit!). Every fiber of my being rallies behind this plan. Come on m72 bus! Hurry your big bulky automobile ass over here!!!! The bus arrives and I scream, "Buttercup Bake Shop, stat!" to the bus driver. Ok... Perhaps that was an internal silent scream but you get my point, right? This was urgent!
Finally, we arrive to our destination. With the red velvet cupcake in sight, it's sad that I'm so much more anticipating the curative effects of this way over priced baked treat than what it's yummy goodness is intended for. I pay for my treat and my friend's german chocolate selection. As I walk to the table clutching the small plastic plate that held my much needed bounty, Coldplay's song 'Sparks' comes on... It's a song that I've heard so many times over the years and know all of the words to. And to everyone else in the shop it was just another song on the play list, but to me in that very moment it was God's voice. And He sang to me "But I promise you this, I'll always look out for you. That's what I'll do."
That's when I knew that coming to this bakeshop wasn't about some delicious cupcake that could somehow make things feel not as horrid as they were. No... This visit to this shop was about hearing these precise words when I needed to hear them most. There's not one speck of doubt within me that leads me to interpret it any other way. I realized all of this right away. I proceeded to sit down and participate in genuine conversation with my amiga while eating every last crumb of that red velvety goodness. I can't say that all was well in my world right after that but I was able to salvage my Saturday enough to find some enjoyment in the rest of that day... More importantly, I was reminded that no matter how badly or how often I mess up in this life, I won't be abandoned. A benevolent someone or something, so much greater than me and any mistake I could ever commit or fathom, is looking out for me. Knowing that makes me feel good.
Tori Shin, west bound m72 bus, Buttercup Bake Shop and uptown 1 train - 8/21/10
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Music, sounds... you
There's nothing like live music... Nothing quite sounds like an 11-piece band. As they begin to play, the sound swells into the room filling every cavity of this cavernous place. Every nook and cranny of my being is filled with music... It pours out from my pores and fills the space between my ears with such contentment and rightness. As they sing the words 'Whatever you do don't make the same mistakes...' My devious mind does exactly what I've asked (prayed) for it not to do... It turns to you. And now suddenly the crescendo of horns and violin strings represent the dark clouds that have once again formed over us. Aren't you the same mistake I keep making over and over again? Now the musical melodies have turned against me. Instead of distracting they act as a sieve... Sifting out all thoughts except those of you and me and the fine muddled mess we find ourselves in once again. Another set of lyrics break through my troubled thoughts: 'We are only what they want us to be...' And am I not (in your eyes) the bad guy you've made me out to be? The bad guy you seem to want me to be? I am quite suddenly overcome with a weariness so bone deep it hurts. My mind drifts to words recently spoken and moments recently lived and I'm trying to make sense of a nonsensical thing and it frustrates me and saddens me and pains me... Deeply. Aren't we too old for this? Isn't there too much in life to enjoy that we should instead spend our time wounding one another? Can't I listen to a song without having cause for it to lead me down mental paths I rather not tread? I'm tired... So tired of becoming a flayed raw bloody mess around you... Because of you… Because of me. I'm torn between using my words to hurt you when I'd much rather we just get along. And this music - this wonderful live music has become a living soundtrack for torturous thoughts. What good is it for me to see where I went wrong if you won't give me a chance to voice it? What does it matter that I was hurt badly once again - if you won't hear me? If you don't care? And so I wonder why I've allowed my joyous musical moment to degrade itself into unsheathed reminders with sharp blades... Cutting deeply and forcefully.
Emmanuel and the Fear performance @ Le Poisson Rouge - 8/20/10
Emmanuel and the Fear performance @ Le Poisson Rouge - 8/20/10
Monday, August 9, 2010
extending a hand...
We often hear that Violence is a cycle.... And that war is a cycle. But, did you know that LOVE is a cycle as well? When you give love it will come back to you and that is a force much more powerful then anything motivated by hate, sadness or violence.
There are no guarantees that this life will be a pretty one or full of happiness & smiles or a roof over your head or money in your pocket or food to eat when your hungry... So many things are outside of our control, but some of the most important things are the intangible ones - faith, hope, love, determination. At times I'm reminded how important it is that we not only cultivate these things for ourselves but that we share them with those around us, those that need to be reminded that they are worthy of much more then the circumstances they find themselves in, that they're not alone. Go out and give a hug to someone who needs it... Offer a comforting word, look someone in the eyes and give them a genuine smile. Dedicate a prayer to someone other than yourself... Extend a hand without being fearful of getting dirty. Be willing to hear someone out, to offer an encouraging word. There's so much we can do at any given moment that can help heal someone... Because that person who needs to be reminded that they are more than this one bad moment/phase/period of time could be you and isn't nice to think that even amid your darkest bleakest moments there will be someone to remind you that you are worthy of so much more than this...
There are no guarantees that this life will be a pretty one or full of happiness & smiles or a roof over your head or money in your pocket or food to eat when your hungry... So many things are outside of our control, but some of the most important things are the intangible ones - faith, hope, love, determination. At times I'm reminded how important it is that we not only cultivate these things for ourselves but that we share them with those around us, those that need to be reminded that they are worthy of much more then the circumstances they find themselves in, that they're not alone. Go out and give a hug to someone who needs it... Offer a comforting word, look someone in the eyes and give them a genuine smile. Dedicate a prayer to someone other than yourself... Extend a hand without being fearful of getting dirty. Be willing to hear someone out, to offer an encouraging word. There's so much we can do at any given moment that can help heal someone... Because that person who needs to be reminded that they are more than this one bad moment/phase/period of time could be you and isn't nice to think that even amid your darkest bleakest moments there will be someone to remind you that you are worthy of so much more than this...
Saturday, August 7, 2010
funding the unattainable
Subsidizing an emotional void with stolen swatches of time and fragments of my soul. Tapping into memories which my sanity can ill afford. Learning, always learning, that some decisions aren't necessarily mine to make. Relying on me and me alone leaves me hankering for a kindred soul. All the while I’m funding the unattainable… Deep within the abyss of my personal deficit I am swimming and drowning, and then swimming again… Longing to hold the intangible in the palms of my hand so I can fill up the emptiness that I’ve been left with.
8/6/10 @ 11:13pm… my bedroom
8/6/10 @ 11:13pm… my bedroom
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