Wednesday, March 1, 2017

and into the breach i got tossed......



jesus christ

my life is a sticky mess,

an eton mess

or

a trifle

sat in the sun

either way

i am easily dissolved


there, that is my poem of the day. i wrote it so i wouldn't scream or say fuck, but alas, i have just done both. why oh why can't i just mature. jesus, i am 54. what are the chances at this point of me becoming responsible, frugal, or to be "an able to follow the path kind of girl."

zero, fucking zero i tell you.

i buy kinfolk magazine instead of food - ( $24.99, if you don't mind) and oh, it doesn't stop there - why there's uppercase, flow, salvage, peeps, monocule....  and wait if i'm flush maybe ambrosia or the gourmand.

what on earth is wrong with me. i'll tell you what's wrong - i would rather feel thick, smooth paper between my fingers, smell the heady perfume of wood pulp, look at pretty pictures and read cool shit than plan a safe and happy retirement.
it is the religious equivalent of meeting the pope - on a quarterly basis of course

oh lord, i am having this giant fight inside my head. bev the good is losing to bev the lunatic. i am that grasshopper who will be banging on some ant's door next winter, demanding to be let in out of the cold.
there seems no way to stop it.

i will be remembered for my lust, a cautionary tale, a fable.
a portrait will hang in economic schools of me, peeping out from under my blue, plastic tarpaulin home, my skeletal hand grasping my precious tomes of fancy.

in the meantime i will eat apples and oatmeal and carry on with this ridiculous behaviour.

speaking of which,

i looked back on my blog and my new year's resolutions for 2012 were as follows-
- let my teats feel the breeze once in awhile
- gain weight
- discover i am talented embroiderer
- swear more
- be less cautious with prescription medication

i'm just going to continue with those, if that's ok.
 i doing well with them. 
ok, with the glaring exception of dash 3
 i am still in the imagine phase of that one 

i just wanted to let you know i am here. still breathing in and out with the greatest of ease. still trying to reconstruct the pieces of my dervish existence. still feeling as if i am a live streaming television show. still on my self-imposed sabbatical. still jousting with my mother. still listening to the shipping lane forecast to becalm my mind. still happy.

but.....

i am on the threshold of change
the edge of reason
i must be brave.
i will plunge and hold my breath.
the world is my oyster.
the sea is in me
i will bury the bones of the prairie and let them rest.
the wind still carries the sound of his voice
i will remember,
 but i will dance this dance.
the water's coming in fast
i will not drown.
the sirens call from the rocks
fear not
i cannot fail
i shall grow gills and swim

cheers
bev


11 comments:

  1. Bev, I'm so glad you're still here and breathing. I think many of us are reconstructing our dervish existences - to read this offers great solace. Carry on.

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    1. oh anna, you darling girl! trapped beneath my country in the clutches of that terrible man!
      i am off to read your blog. to see your little face beside your name reminds me i have neglected my friends! i'm sorry.
      the joy i felt at seeing your comment and knowing i was not alone was breathtaking. xxxx

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  2. Glad to hear from you again. I always enjoy your ramblings.

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    1. julie, i love you! simple as that. i am puffed with pride that you enjoy hearing from me! thank you so very much for reading and for taking the time to comment. i'm going now to see what you have been up to. xxxx

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  3. Love this update, Bev. I feel I've been on the edge of reason for many years. I'm faking being a grown up some days.
    This: "I will bury the bones of the prairie and let them rest." Indeed. Love your words!

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    1. dearest liza, i love you! i was feeling very alone. pitiful really! saying things like "god, what if i write and nobody comes to read" my mother would have a field day with me if i had said that to her. she would look at me and say "really bev, there's no line at your
      door and you are what, surprised by that" lol
      thank you for your words - you are too good for me. i'm off to see visit you!

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  4. When I grow up I will be ..... taller. other than that I think I am doing well now I am 70. I might not understand all you say but I do hear you.

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    1. DEAR LADKYS! that was the best comment ever. from this day forward i am your humble servant. please like me and be my friend.
      thank you, i am headed to read your words. xxxxx

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  5. I vividly remember a resolution from when I was a teenager that said I should grow my finger nails. I still can't grow them ...

    Your magazines sound like a constant amid the dervishing. Maybe they're pointing you somewhere.

    As for my favourites ... I don't really have any. I've dipped in and out of so very many but don't but any regularly. A while ago I had a subscription to a service (called Stack)that sent me a mystery Indie magazine each month. That opened my eyes to lots of weird and wonderful titles.

    Thanks for stopping by my blog today, enjoy your weekend, eat that trifle/Eton mess! ;-)

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  6. OMG!!! hello julie, thanks so much for visiting and commenting. i fear you may have caught me at my "near the end of winter in canada madness"
    god, i reread my post and i sound like a addled women. i checked out stack and fear there may be yet more magazines entering my life!
    people, if your reading this go visit julie's blog (notes on paper), buy her book (snipped tales) and revel in her brilliance!!! xxx

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  7. Hi Bev: thanks for visiting my blog and saying hello. Sorry it has taken me a couple of days to say hi back. I was away for the weekend. It's a pleasure to meet you!

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