This is my walk back

Why is it that when at home, I worry about going on vacation, and as soon as I’m here, worry about everything going on at home? I am so worried that I won’t be able to find a home in time, so worried that I won’t be able to get my funds together to make it happen, so worried. WHY DO I WORRY SO? Is there something inside of me that just waits until I finally relax to go off like a bomb, and create an entirely new string of worries? You’re okay, you’re okay, there is absolutely no reason to stress. B-snaps offered me an out this morning, and I guess it’s not so much an out as it is an IN. He is going to be out in Vegas for the next three months, as of March 9th, so he offered his home to me. At half the rent that he is paying. That way I will be able to save my money till I get into my own place, and be up in LA with the quickness. Ugh, I don’t like the thought of all my things being in storage. But I must say it sounds enticing. The offer that is, not the storage. Because if I were to keep all my belongings down in sd, my place would pretty much act as an $1900 storage unit. For my shit, and for kitty. And this way, if I were to stay at B-snaps, I could bring only what I need, what I absolutely must have.

Something to think about I suppose. But isn’t there always? Right after I spoke with him this morning, I decided a run is necessary. Running always clears my head, (and my lungs!) so whenever I feel as though there are things to figure out, I run until I’ve made a decision. Or until my legs hurt, or until its raining, or until I’m so thirsty I can’t run, and must walk in order to not die. Well this morning on my run I decided that I need to let go of my worries. Let go of my “issues”. Last night I had strange dreams about x-boyfriends that I have wronged, which is more than you can imagine. A plethora of men have run through my life and I have ruined a plethora of men’s lives. Funny isn’t it? I can make so many men happy and make so many men cry. Terrible woman. Absolutely terrible. Ever since I watched “moment of truth” the other night, I have been having these dreams about my x’s and I have been trying my best to make amends with them and let them know that what I have done to them keeps me up at night, makes me toss and turn. Sometimes I wake up crying. Sometimes I wake up sobbing. Sometimes….I wake up thinking they are there, and fuck that. Talk about being stressed as soon as you open your eyes. Thinking you are still sleeping next to men you have cheated on, cheated with and then on, lied to, ugh. Let it go….

So I ran. I ran and ran and ran, and then I went home and changed from my running clothes into my bathing suit and went to the ocean. The salt will clean me. The ocean’s power, the moon, it all pushes and pulls negative energy from you, and the water washes away any lingering feelings that have magically survived Poseidon’s wrath. This is what the flowers outside my mom’s house look like…..

And this is what the back of my bathing suit looks like.

And this is what I looked like while on my towel, posing awkwardly for you.

I had to be careful, because, as the sign says, there is a dangerous shore break.

And this is my walk back.

All very purifying. Even the walk back felt great. In fact, it makes me wish that the ocean in San Diego, (which is curiously the same ocean as in Hawaii) was a bit warmer. Because then I would be more inclined to dip my filthy soul in hopes of becoming something more than I am. But I suppose I do that every single night when I dream. Dip my soul in subconsciousness with hopes of some sort of forgiveness. Some sort of….something.

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~ by Penny Flame on February 27, 2008.

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