I was up this morning at 3 a.m. with a headache. Just hit me out of the blue – or out of the dark. One more notch in the stress belt I wear. Did that thing where I managed to get to sleep, then slept hard, and the next thing I knew my alarm went off. Since I usually get up all on my own, my alarm is set for the very last minute I can get up, do what I need to do, and get the fuck out the door. In other words: no time to write.

Into the pool, where I had to deal with nonsense horseplay. Just rude fucking behavior by people who are usually good at lane swimming – blocking off the lane, walking backwards into oncoming swimmers (me) – that sort of thing. Bullshit. Managed to get in 50 minutes, but it wasn’t my usual zen time.

Back at home, my mouth spewed out what I held in at the pool. My cursing was so profound my bro switched tv channels to find some comedy. 30 minutes of comedic therapy was all I could afford before it was time for my taal les. Out into the rain once more, my VANS already damp from my early morning walk to the pool.

My language class is fun. Our teacher makes sure to keep things light, and everyone has a good time. The only thing I can complain about – and it’s a growing complaint – is the pressure I put myself under to keep excelling. Completely my thing. Every week, our teacher gives us a little story to read. Just a short paragraph with simple sentences, to get us used to new words and sentence structure. When I read…I don’t know. Maybe I have some Siren in my bloodline. People shut up and just listen to my words. And then when I’m done, everyone sort of sighs ‘Aaaah!’ like just listening to me was satisfying their souls in some manner. It’s unnerving. I find it as unnerving as I do knowing things without knowing how I know them. That’s happening all the fucking time with Dutch; I just KNOW how and when to use a word. I’m so freaking advanced at it that my teacher is beginning to introduce me to tenses – past, future, conditional. But I don’t know how I know it. It’s as instinctual as the ‘music’ I make when I read (my teacher’s words, not mine). And since I don’t know how I do any of it in the first place, I feel pressured to figure out how I do it and continue to do it. Damn!!

What I need to do is let that go. Just dance.

Okay. I’m gonna go a bit esoteric here.

These things I can do without conscious thought…these are my bases of power. They are as second nature to me as laughing: I do not think about how I laugh, I just do it. Same with the reading, the ‘music’ in my voice, the knowing which word to use. Yet I’m afraid of them. It’s silly. They’ve always been there, and I’ve no reason to think there’s an end or finite point to them. I guess it comes down to trusting myself. I don’t trust that I’ll always be able to do these things. Even tho they’ve not let me down yet. *sigh* It’s the subconscious part of it that bugs me. The lightening fast knee-jerk reaction of them. I’d prefer to filter them thru my conscious mind, to know what I’m going to do. And that’s where the pressure comes in, the rehearsal, the endless repetition of words and ideas in my head. While that system is conducive to learning, it also is adding an element of ick in my life I don’t want.

Once again, I come back to some kind of anti-anxiety medication. Me need. Desperately.

Today I’m throwing myself into the thick of it; I’ve volunteered to make my way downtown to buy more smoke-alicious. That means more rain, metro, people, crowds, Dutch, money, walking, cold, wet. And I fucking volunteered. Goddess help me, I’m on a masochistic swing.

Well. The sooner started, the sooner finished. I’ve no desire to add ‘dark’ to that pitiful list.

More advances on the RA front: my shoulder is easing up. After how many years? Don’t even want to count them. But it hurt less today in the pool than it has, um, ever. Yep. I did pop it a bit too far – that hurt. Figures. Give me less pain and I seek out more. *crosses eyes* There’s that masochistic thing again.

Hm. An Ativan chip is calling me, but I think I’ll see how I feel post joint. With all my rush and hurry this morning, I didn’t start the day on my usual 2 J’s. Goddess, yes! I swam without smoking and only had a few puffs before class. No fucking wonder. I guess it’s good to know my head can handle Dutch semi-sober. Must really be getting cemented in there.

Had a little flight of fancy on the way home from class. Thought about how fun (and easy) it would be to do voice overs. I still think that’s a great idea for me, if I can ever get cleared to do that kind of work. People want to stop and sigh when I speak? Great. Let’s USE that foundation. It’s easy for me, and that kind of work won’t even feel like work. I won’t even have to THINK about it. Just read it through once and I’ll have it (after a better grasp of the language, of course). Yep.

want to be known as a songwriter/singer. I want to be known as an author and poet. But what I really am is a Siren. I’ve always discounted it because..well, because it’s so easy. Maybe it’s time I own up to it. Own what I am, and use it FOR me. BE the Siren.

😉 I AM growing my hair out…


5 thoughts on “Siren

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