Loneliness-is it solitude???

I am struggling out here in cyberspace. Sure, I could log onto somewhere to connect with others-as if online is a reality?

I can't help but think who I am , although I never really believed I was offensive, is lacking. Since cyberspace is this empty, bottomless void, full of words, like a vortex, I can write just about anything I like and it won't bounce. Kind of an interesting thought.
No reflection. I am not sure that is such a good thing.

I am experiencing about the loneliest time in my life.
I am trying to figure this out. It isn't easy without 1) evaluating my behaviors and wondering if even though my past has been full of people, maybe I didn't choose wisely, or, the world is full of mean manipulative people-that I seem attracted too.

I don't know but I am seeking answers so I can change my behaviors and my perceptions.

Perhaps going over the edge isn't a bad thing. Most of us spend our entire lives staying to themiddleof the road we don't even know what the edge looks like,
and I can tell you the precipice is wide and deep and the only thing I seem to face is myself.

I can't help but wonder at age fifty I will never make love again? God I miss it. Not sex with someone I don't know. That isn't any kind of release, just makes me feel more alone.

The kind of sex I want is knowing every inch of a man's body. Crooked toes and all.
The scent of his sleep. The softness of the skin on the underside of his arm. The knowledge of his body -the kind of knowledge that isn't familiar but curious.

I have made myself busy-too busy to connect with men-and often too busy to connect with others.

I am not sure this is loneliness even though sometimes I feel lonely. This time and space feels more like time to reflect. Some of that choice out of fear of making another mistake again, some trying to step back and look at how I interact with others. I have spent most of my life pleasing others. Ingrained into my psyche. Doormat. Responsible. Dependable. Predictable.

I couldn't say that when I was younger. Always going for the relationship in which I could create the most drama.
As I matured that got old. The message I interpreted was to be easy going. No high maintenance. Understanding and supportive.

Ironic that when I began to behave that way I had a ten year relationship with a man who cheated and lied-but that isn't really the point. The intersting point about our relationship was that I decided to be understadning and loving ANYWAY.

Ironially, he is one of my closest friends.
Who wouldn't want a friend who is reliable and faithful, and not judging.
Doormat.

I don't want this to be the end of passion, love and friendship.
I really don't.
I mourn the loss.
Yet I am not willing to pursue those paths which will provide opportunities, either.

Ah, shit. Ah shit. Bounce that around, cyberspace...

bra desolation...

Breasts feel this way sometimes. Especially when they sit heavy on the rib cage
Did you ever see a woman leaning her folded arms on her breasts? I always thought that was the coolest thing-having breasts as armrests.
I swear, growing up I had no breasts. Just little ones that didn't really need a bra. I think I was thirty when I finally acquired breasts. Right after my daughter's birth-I even took pictures of them while I was nursing because they felt so big.

Still not big enough to park my arms, though.

Still, it's kind of a cool act, don't you think??

I'm chewing this gum as fast as I can...

Because I know I have to quit smoking. I quit a number of times, and I really do detest the nasty habit. Honestly, I do. Smokers don't look glamorous anymore-I sure don't. All that shame and hiding from others-using that nasty Febreeze, so I traipse around smelling like fabric softener with a touch of smoke in my hair and clothes.

So I keep chewing.
I remember the first time I smoked-I was 14-and I wanted to be cool. I got so dizzy I almost passed out. The only other time I ever had that buzzed feeling, in my entire life-actually, was when I went without food for two days.

Smoke in my lungs, no food-something like a shaman ritual, I suppose.

After my first smoke, no one really cared at my house-I used to go across the street to the gas station on the corner of Belsey and Davison Road and buy smokes for 50 cents a pack. Yeah, that was a long time ago.

I remember buying cigarettes for my mom, as a kid. She would send me with a note to the drugstore.
We lived in downtown Detroit, near Harper Hospital. I 'd pass the emergency room on my way to the store, listening to the sirens glaring into the emergency entrance.
At the time, ambulance noises , loud, high pitched sirens developed into a comforting sound to me. Do you remember the comforting sounds from your home, when you were a kid?

Well, ambulance noises-one of mine.
Gratiot Avenue was a huge eight lane road for a little five year old kid with a note.
My mom smoked non-filter cigarettes-Chesterfields-or Pall Mall. I don't think anyone makes those anymore, do they?

The clerk would read the note, hand me the smokes and take the money.
nowadays my mom would get arrested for that kind of behavior. Then it was no big deal.

I would buy my smokes and hide in the restroom at the gas station to smoke them. At fourteen, smoking was kind of a sneaky thing to do-so it was cool to hide and smoke.

Later, we didn't care. We'd smoke wherever we wanted. No law existed-if kids wanted to kill themselves on smokes, well, it was one less mouth..
Anyway-whoever heard of a teenager dying of lung cancer?
We had enough problems in Flint with all the pollution. I don't think smoking made much difference.

I quit many times over the years. The longest for five years. What made me pick up another one -how can I answer that question?

I don't think smokers like to admit what it really means.
Smoking just shuts down all kinds of emotional minefields.

Angry? Just pick up that smoke and inhale all of those feelings.
Lonely? Sad? Depressed? Feel empty?
Just breathe and hold that cigarette. Kind of makes it all sit in the pit of the stomach.

I don't want to quit anymore because of "peer pressure".
Or the fact everything in my house stinks-including my daughter's hair.
Well, that is one reason.
Now, I want to quit because I want to live longer.
Sure, I could get hit by a huge truck or some crazy driver.
A huge meteor could fall out of the sky and smash me flat, too.

But denial is what keeps many smokers picking up the next one-

It feels naked without one. Like I am showing a body part I prefer to keep private.
A friend of mine quit smoking twenty years ago. One day he said, "I still feel it sometimes. Like what am I supposed to do with my fingers? Stick them up my nose??"

I keep chewing this gum as fast as I can.
Maybe this oral substitution can keep the words in my mouth, the feelings stuck in my throat, and the nakedness-the raw nakedness of feeling so exposed, will reveal what the rest of my body and mind have been stifling for so long.

Bush says, Optimistic????

Ignornance , honestly, is a blissfulness only graced upon the needlessly stupid or the sincerely dumbfounded.

I wonder sometimes about those people polled who claim they are undecided. How long does that kind of state endure? Are people who claim to be undecided really undecided or they just don't like to make a comittment? Or maybe they really are sitting around, thinking, "gee, I just don't know..."
I had a friend like that once. She drove me nuts. Sitting at a table ordering food would take forever. She hemmed and hawed...shaking her head, looking genuinely distressed, until I couldn't handle it-
"C'mon, Rhonda-it's just food-order!!
Her response? "Whatever I order rules out so many other possibilities-it's impossible to decide.

She is now a physician...let's hope you don't ever have to ask for an opinion..

Today in the news, President Bush says he is optimistic.
Well? What does that mean? Optimistic that the war in Iraq will be "won", optimisitic that the middle east will settle the seething boiling pot of anger and resentment America has earned from the invasive and rightous acts deemed democracy?

I say this sounds more like ignorance. Drivel, triviality, Dr. Seuss-gook, not as creative but just as silly.

Perhaps if Bush were to be polled, anonymously, he might be , just might, secretly, be one of those "undecided", based on-sheer ignorance? or sheer stupidity??

Try to empty your mind..just try it...

I am wondering,
what connects us besides the ignorant fact we assume humans all have common traits?
So common, I wonder, that we become parodies of simplistic humanity.
Not that I am writing this in a cynical voice.
Our minds work so hard talking to us we don't take much time to empty them. at times I feel like we have junkmail of the brain. Open mouth -pour forth the overload.
Lately I have been spending time quietly, without much noise coming out of my mind or my mouth. I think we used to call it listening.
I don't listen with a purpose.
The purpose of listening is to have few expectations. You know how some people just wait for you to end your sentence so they can reply?
It is a rare find -a good listener.
They are easy to detect, because you really like them. Good listeners seem really interested in what you have to say.

Even if it is mind junk mail and overload. lol