Day 550.

*drops mic*




Find me soon at http://mahfaminthemorning.wordpress.com/
Lotsa old posts to read here, in case you want to browse my brain in the meantime. Feel free. (Feel free!) Thank you. I love you.

Day 549.

Big things.

Day 548.

I am thisclose to shaving my head, getting a new tattoo, and shutting this thing down all random like before planning for a new way to publish my brainbarf online.

Day 547.

SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AHHHHHH

Day 546.

A monster lives in the folds of the curtain that is drawn between the real and the imaginary. A monster is more often than not, misunderstood. A monster is wounded in ways you couldn't possibly imagine.

A monster has parents. A monster eats and a monster shits, and a monster probably laughs and cries. A monster wants things, like lemon bars and hugs, and maybe romance and family, too.

Day 545.

Want to write but don't want to feel my emotions so I'm not and I'm not.

Day 544.

People have to tell themselves all sorts of stories in order to survive.

Day 543.

Day 542.

Day 541.

I look greasy & scared! Today, I met the new love of my life, Zora. More to say soon, but so exhausted from a very full day.

Day 540.

Yesterday's photo.

Day 539.

Thank you.

That's what it says on my wrist in the picture to the left here. "Thank you." I thought today about getting it tattooed there, as I really want to cultivate this prayer, this constant gratitude. I want it there when things are delightful and when they are full of pain. I want to have gratitude for every experience as it teaches me more and more about the ways of the world and the ways of us humans and the inner workings of this precious and wonderful being named  Mahfam, she: the visage of the moon, the color of the light of the moon. Moon-face, my soft light casting a pool for you to dance in or run away from into the shadows or simply use as a stage to act out your relationships with your demons or your ghosts or your beloveds, toward me (but always actually toward you.) This moonlight thanks you; for whatever you bring, for whoever you are. I thank you.

***

I had an outburst on the street today. I was walking my somatics practitioner's dog, and, as happens when I am out for a stroll in just about any neighborhood, I was greeting most of the people I encountered with a simple hello. Three men were working on a car. I greeted one of them, ignored the one under the vehicle, then greeted the third. He said, "Hello there, beautiful." Maybe I am overly sensitive about this word. Maybe you didn't hear his tone, so you don't know how disgusting it sounded.

Day 538.

Day 537.

Day 536.

What if I just let it look like this all the time?

Day 535.

Tired and wept out and no product in my hair and danced out and probably a little dehydrated and off to do more more more so maybe all of these relationships can help take care of me and it's time for a run-on, apparently.

Day 534.

Poverty is stressful.

Day 533.

"What are you going to do with the rest of your night?" asked my eight-months-pregnant friend.

"Go home. Blog. Finish writing my fifth poem about her." I rolled around on the yoga ball.

***

Later: "Do you have Reality Bites on DVD?"

Day 532.

Day 531.

How is it that after all these years of taking care of myself, and being alone, I am just barely now feeling like I am learning how to be on my own?

One of the many shared stories of the displaced: If only this world would notice how great I am, I am sure it would find a place for me.