There's not enough time.

I finally want to live and there’s not enough time.

I found things that make me happy.

I am healed and whole and alive.

I finally found things that make me happy,

And there’s not enough time to do it all.

Everything changed in one moment

But really, it was along time coming.

I was looking in the mirror,

Putting paint on my face,

And I realized I want a future.

I want to get a master’s degree.

I want to go to law school.

I want to be in love again

And maybe have kids

And travel

And make a difference.

I want to stamp out the sex-slave trade between Thailand and Saudi Arabia.

I want to go on a helicopter ride somewhere, anywhere.

I want to give a toast at my little sister’s wedding.
I want to have my own photo show.

I want to adopt a child.

I want to grow old with someone I love, someone I can hold hands with every day and find a million different ways to kiss.

I want all of these things and there isn’t enough time. I could devote my life to liberating women from the nastiness of men and never get to work on a constitution. I could spend my life behind the lens of a camera and never get to writing a symphony for guitars and guitars only. I could do so many things and each thing makes me think of what I am not doing.

That is how I see things. Everything is a dichotomy of ideas and experiences and emotions.

Christmas: family, love, abundance, orphans, war, death.

Love: sunshine, comfort, sex, loneliness, mortality.

So that’s it. That’s where I am at. I am sitting in front of my computer, wanting to live for the first time in my life and feeling like I can’t do everything.

Oh Jean Paul Sartre! Oh crushing social consciousness! Oh everything.

Afternotes:

Rape really fucked me up for a long time. I’m glad that’s over.

From my first introspective moments on, I didn’t understand why people stayed alive for so long. I didn’t want to die, I just didn’t understand why people cared so much about living. Life just seemed so futile. Being raped rocked me into the realm of dangerousness. I make no apologies for that as it was not my doing, having my innocence and self-respect and privacy and body assaulted. I hung on by a thread for a while, a thread strengthened by the fact that I couldn’t stand the idea of hurting people I loved. But that is over, and now I understand the will to live, to continue on into the future. Now I get what so many people tried to explain to me over the years…its thrilling.

If I ever lose this feeling again, I’ll go back to this post and remind myself that I have things to do, and there’s no room for indifference.

Red Wine in the Forest

On a dark night in Woodstock I sat naked next to you.
On and on we spilled our souls about love and the lives we lead.
I sat naked next to you and you denied me,
And the fireflies lit my bare skin, lit the blush of my cheeks.

You said no, straight into my eyes.
"No way babe, I like what I got.
Don't need none of your breasts for me."
And to the Californian dancer, your thoughts returned.

The dawn began to peak as our exchange was over.
Love and life, well fuck, I didn't mean it all!
I want my clothes now please.
Close your eyes and turn your head,
I will not bare it all anymore.

And how humiliating, to be dancing naked in the grass,
Telling you the promises of the world,
The promises of my love,
Only to be denied.

And we wonder why we hurt so much.
How much more could I give?
And why wasn't it enough?
And we wonder why we hurt so much.

There would be no Arc in my version....

I don’t get excited about Obama because I don’t judge people based on their perceived potential or the promises they make, I judge them based on their actions. (Speaking of judging people, in general I don’t think it is a worthwhile way to spend energy, but when it comes to politicians and a judgment must be made regarding their policy and the like in order to make an informed decision in the voting booth, well then I judge.)

He is a politician. His race is of no consequence to me. I find it both sad and intriguing that people rally around him because of the color of his skin. It is depressing because I am tired of Americans shooting themselves in the foot when it comes to racism. Wouldn’t it be nice if we believed in our politicians as good people of sound character, instead of thinking that they will stick to their kind when it comes to skin color.

The whole idea that there are different kinds based on skin color makes me want to vomit, to purge something or clean something or pour an ocean over everything. I would be god and there would be floods but instead of wiping everyone out, it would just mix everyone up. Imagine everyone as one lovely brown color with hints of red and blue and yellow! Maybe if we all look the same, we will finally be able to accept the fact that we are the same in spirit.

I said “intriguing” before because I am having a hard time making a definitive statement about whether I would be excited if a woman was elected president, the same way African Americans are excited about Obama being elected president.

Just some thoughts. I know some people who read this feel rather passionately one way or another about Obama so I'll finish with this: I like debating and welcome enlightenment from any source so comments are appreciated, not discouraged.