Monday, March 31, 2014

Shrieking

Last Saturday night/Sunday morning, I ended up SHRIEKING at the world. This has happened ONE time in the past 4 years since I've been back in Austin (in 2011, waiting for the bus on my way to my mother's house to drop off the birthday gifts I'd bought, after she'd made it clear that she didn't want a birthday after my brother was going out of town to party with his friends; it was about 7 in the morning; I screamed out loud at the bus-stop; once I'd dropped off her fucking presents, I cried profusely all the way back home.).

Prior to these two Austin shriekings, the last time I was howling was back in my Weehawken apartment. I lived there for 2 years (2008 to 2010), and I lost it (aka "howled") maybe twice.

Why? Utter desolation at utter isolation. Ya'd think ya'd get used to it after 30 years, huh? I think what sets it off is hints at closeness (like a mom's birthday, where you think things should be nice; or Sandra in town, needing help) --- and then the kick in the face of the ones you wanted to love you not loving you at all.

The worst part of all of this: Things might be going decently (i.e., not necessarily "great," but they're "going"; the loneliness has begun to seem "pure"). But then once you start wanting, and don't receive... your nothingness, instead of being Zen-like, feels all utterly shitty again.

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