Alright tonight was...interesting. And I am more than just a "little" drunk (red wine...LOVE it) at the moment so not quite certain where this will head. Probably one of the ones to skip, folks. Don't mind me, just need to ramble out some junk.

So then, tonight was the big, annual bash at the gallery and we've just gotten home. As I said, it was "interesting". Lots of small little “social” games; some talk with people, questions, questions and more questions from every corner, of which Emile and I both expected and were prepared for. Actually, that wasn’t so bad. Maybe some relief there, an acknowledgment of many things, so much of it rolled together, tangled and no longer discernable from one bit to another. Earlier, a couple days ago, Ursel had sent me a small email in response to one of mine...I guess the reality is sinking in for her. She said in a single line that she missed talking to me, and was looking forwards to getting together at the party--to talk. Well, we did that, only it was all avoidance, surface realities. She was like a small bird, fluttering by for a word or two and then gone, seeing others she “needed to speak with” being the hostess and all that. Usually in the past she would be tired and it would be so much hanging in the back room, but not tonight. Mostly it was to come to me and say, “Have you spoken with so and so? Go tell them...blah blah...”

Like I said, it was odd. Admit I almost lost it a couple of times. Yes, I know it was a work situation but you have to understand, this woman for the past 22 years (think about that. I moved out of my home and in with Emile when I was 16 years old. And then my mom moved out of state, nearly no contact except for a phone call or something every year or three.) So basically Ursel has been like a surrogate mother to me. Really. Our relationship caused much jealousy from her own daughter towards me and mine. Not tonight though. Nope, Ursel’s daughter was so friendly, smiling, actually spoke long and avidly with Emile...someone whom in the past she would just stand at the far end of the room and scowl at. Emile was some shocked, I tell you. Especially since U’s daughter was practically glued to him all evening. Talk, talk, smiling talk...

A little island of separation, that was what tonight was all about...and I felt/feel it most acutely...and it is still so early, just 8pm.

“So,” someone goes. “Hear you are tired of living where you are?”

“No,” I respond. “We are tired of continually having our lives threatened.”

Ha, some shocked expressions over that I tell ya. *snorts*

(I’m tired. So very, very tired.)

So now I am sitting here, 4 glassed of red under the belt hanging out in cyberspace at the only place left that makes me smile. Not important where it is, doesn’t matter except it is a small illusion created inside my own head. Something vicarious....no, that’s not the word, to sauced I guess, the word won’t come. Just a place where I can touch another life and smile a bit, living something positive through someone else. Not an reality, not even going to claim that to myself, don’t even understand it myself. Just a world so far removed and different from my own right now. It’s enough and I’m thankful for it.

Sorry for the ramble, folks. Just need to not think for a brief while I guess.

Gods, I am so weary of tears...

Ah well, fuck it. Ha.

Before we left, Ursel’s husband came to me, said how I needed to set up a virtual network so I can run Ursel’s computer for her. As is, U herself came to me as said “Before you go...” Sheesh, can’t even find the files to print up hand-outs to go along with the ornaments she is selling. Gave me a list of things she was running out of. Christ... So rather drunk, and actually proclaiming such in loud enough voice that all heads turn, I have to sit there and give another employee lessons on not only how to find the files (made some desktop shortcuts) but how to create new ones. Stupid little shit like giving a document columns and crap. Man, they are all hopeless.

22 years, gone with a “snap” just like that. Only meant to stay a 1/2 hour, turned into 2 and it still feels like it was a single moment of breath. As I said, it is surreal the state I am in now. Sort of neutral. Again, just trying not to think, a thing which is most difficult for me. Damn head, never gives me and rest, never a moment’s peace...

Have I ever mentioned how when the stories come that I cannot shut them off? I mean it literally. There was a time when I was near point of nervous breakdown, the words not stopping, when, no longer able to keep my eyes open I went to bed, and for several hours, in darkness with eyes shut, I held a pen in my hand and wrote and wrote...pages worth in a notebook. Damnedest thing, could read every word no problem, the lines moving down the page neatly. Emile still tells the tale of listening to me scribbling. It truly is like channeling at times; swear I don’t know where a lot of it comes from. When I write my Drex books it is a race to keep up with the words. I’ve no control of where it is going, am laughing and amazed as the story unfolds. Was a writer in a past life, I ever mention that? Only he never made good; life was nothing but bitterness and frustration for old Thaddeus G. He’s a bit of an asshole actually, but I like him. How can I not? He is “me” after all...and I understand him. Weird shit I tell you, this whole reincarnation deal. When I lost my hands to the arthritis, that’s when he really came to the fore. Got the craving to pick up the pipe, oft catch myself stroking a mustache that does not exist while editing. Some crazy shit alright. Ah well. *chuckles*

Mind distractions. Emotion distractions...need then badly right now. We need to get out of here soon. Don’t ask me why, I do not know, only feel...and it is killing me.

Thank gods for Emile, for his strength. I’ve taken to calling him, to him, my hero. He really is that. I know I wouldn’t be alive now if it wasn’t for him. A few times in the past he has said that to me. Something deep there, folks. Something meant; things we are meant to do in this world together.

Ah, so many things I could say, stories I could tell, but not now. Not even with this stream of consciousness masturbation. No, all I have right now is an hurting inside. A wordless thing set deep. Mental, emotional as well as physical. Was one of the “bad” days today. Damn weather and exhaustion taking its merry toll.

Again: whatever. Ha.

Time for the usual question: Should I post this? Publish such a rambling muse of nothing for stranger’s eyes to view? Why the hell not. I have heard it say that reading is difficult, that most will not “hang with it” so not worried. Written words should be exposed, even if less than a handful will ever read them through.

I’m tired. Posses an deep-set longing for something I know not, only it is there. May I find that something in my new place. A home? Doubtful. Just a place; thing transitory same as everything in life is. (I will never have a home, I know this truth.) No one, not even the artist I spoke with understand what I am trying to convey when I speak of painting out my murals. I get “Next time do them on pieces of sheetrock you can take with you.”

How nice. I respond with, “But I thought I would grow old here.” Only response is shrug and shake of head. My fault they are saying? Well, whatever. So be it. I lived and still live in the moment. That truly is all we ever have, folks: The Moment. Live it fully, that is only advice I can give...the only thing I know to do.

I am quite alone tonight. Even with Emile, now somewhere else “chilling out” in the building which was our home...I am alone. Will always be like that I guess. There was a time when I was used to it, accepting and had no problem. Enjoyed it actually. Not anymore though. R, you son of a bitch. Just look what you did to me, Big Guy, made me need people. Asshole. (You or me?) Never had anyone and never needed anyone. (Emile is different. That is thing meant--because there are things we are meant to do together, as well as so many previous lives lived with knowing the other. A relationship outside everything else...can’t explain it.)

Ugh, pain. Ouch, my damn head. Wish I could shut it off; wish that I did not feel so much from others. Soon though, very soon. Rest and sanctuary just over the horizon...

That’s it, I’m done for now...hmm, and email just came in...shit. Spam. Typical. Then again it wouldn’t have changed things much. An instant’s worth of something else, then gone, a return to the routine. Need to rely upon myself an no others. I loath being a taker like that; stealing a bit of life from someone else; an illusion of connectedness. Yes, I’m better than that. Fuck you, R, I was much better off Alone.

Ah well.

Night, folks.

Melissa