Method to the Madness.

difference

I don’t want you to say it to make me feel better
I want you to say it because you want me to know.

our brokeass dryer

today i thought our brokeass dryer broke for good. i spent literally 20 minutes toggling the dial and messing with the wires trying to coax the machine into action to no avail. i may have kicked the stupid thing once. or twice. no more than three times. 

you see, frustration is a cancer. it builds faster than you realize because frustration is what all neglected emotions eventually become. unspoken sadness, abashed disappointment and self-pity, brooding resentment, silent but searing anger, profound loneliness - when left unexpressed and unaddressed, all of these feelings lose their artistic luster and ferment into a sour, bitter frustration that drains you, unsettles you, poisons you. you become frustrated with everyone and everything about everyday and if you felt lonely before, it was nothing compared to the isolation you feel now inside the walls you’ve built with your mounds, bricks, buckets, brimming barrows of frustration. you stop caring, stop seeing and noticing, stop enjoying, stop appreciating. you stop loving. you stop living. and even that stops mattering. until you overflow. explode. boom.

so anyway, i left my wet clothes in the dryer and decided to go for a run to clear my head. and also because if i didn’t get some endorphins pumping through my system pronto, i probably would’ve brutalized more things in our apartment. so i ran. i ran hard and fast, as fast as i could, possibly as fast as i’ve ever run, so fast i could feel my knees buckling beneath me, forgoing perfect running form for the satisfaction i got each time my foot stomped gracelessly, furiously, loudly, deliberately on the pavement. my shins started protesting about a mile and a half in and i almost relished the stabbing pain; it comforted me that my body still had enough fight left to berate me. i ran until my rage turned into subdued acceptance, until my lungs ached from the unexpected exertion, until my head hurt from being rocked by my violent footfalls, until my legs began to wobble and betray the weakness and uncertainty i’ve long been denying. i ran until i realized.

when i got home, i tried to fix the dryer again for about five minutes. still nothing. i got frustrated all over again and sat down in my room like a pouty child. and then gautam walked in the door and i said, “gautam, i think our dryer is broken for good.” i babbled about how i’d tried for 20 minutes, tried every trick we’ve learned. he goes, “really? hm,” walks over to the dryer, messes with the dial and the wires in the back for about 15 seconds, and all of a sudden the damn thing roars to life. of course. baaaaaaa sheepish smile. classic gautam, showing up at the right time and magically making everything seem less terrible. classic april, getting all worked up for no reason. 

for no reason.

FOR NO REASON!

we get so frustrated, so beaten down by life sometimes, so angry and distant and cold…and all for no reason at all, except that we choose our own unhappiness, we choose to entertain our demons instead of ward them off. we invite them inside for a change of pace and fail to notice when they begin to overstay their welcome and then suddenly, we realize they’ve settled in with no intention of leaving. we all know negativity breeds negativity and soon that’s all there is - darkness creeps into the corners of our vision, tinging the world with a melancholy hue, impeding any semblance of happiness or contentment, lacing our speech with derision and contempt and sarcasm and pessimism. and we let it happen. when we came to yet another fork in the road, we chose frustration instead of humility. emotions happen and we must let them but we get to choose what we do in the face of those emotions. i chose to be mean, i chose to close myself off, i chose to pent it all up and let it get bad, i chose to spread my frustration. i chose wrong, and i’m sorry.

i’m sorry to my brokeass dryer too for receiving the brunt of my frustration today. all it ever wanted to do was prove that i only have control over some things in my life, nowhere close to many or most things, and that i should just shut the fuck up and stop being so petty and gloomy and just be happy. and dry my clothes. 

the best lessons are often taught in the unlikeliest of places at the unlikeliest of times by the unlikeliest of teachers. 

traceless

i fell into your love

and sank - without struggling - down, down, down

my trepidations as infinitesimal and fleeting as air bubbles

choosing to let them kiss my skin, reveling in their temporary company,

instead of grabbing helplessly at nothing and expecting mercy

i closed my eyes and bathed in the richness of the muted silence

cleansed - no, purged - myself of ordinary, highly corrosive toxins

i fell into your love

and i forgot to surface.

sometimes i’m morbid

funny how we’re always praying it’s not our plane that goes down, not our car that crashes, not our friends and family members that fall ill or pass away, not our luck that’s tainted

when really, none of us have any control over much of anything

control is only ever a laughable illusion

delusion

and all we can do is keep our heads down, do what’s right, do what we’re supposed to do, what we’ve been instructed and taught to do, and keep praying

is that what religion is? holding out hope that someone with more control is listening to our small, obvious, fearful prayers? 

more and more, i’m giving up that tenuous hope and giving in to the randomness, the chaos, the unpredictable cruelty and tragedy and comedy because today i woke up and realized that lately my prayers are only for bad things not to happen

and that, to me, is a terribly cowardly and passive way to live. 

sapiosexual.

luckily,

your selfishness is feeding my new starvation diet.