my prints all over the smoking gun

Twelve in12

Reading
Queen’s Play ~ Dorothy Dunnett
Pride and Prejudice ~ Jane Austen
Uther ~ Jack Whyte

Finished
Mirror, Mirror ~ Gregory Macguire
Witchling ~ Yasmine Galenorn
Changeling ~ Yasmine Galenorn
Something Wicked ~ Catherine Mulvany
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince ~ J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows ~ J.K. Rowling
Myst: Book of Atrus ~ Rand Miller, Robyn Miller and David Wingrove
The Game of Kings ~ Dorothy Dunnett
The Other Boleyn Girl ~ Philippa Gregory

Mood:  God I don’t even know.  I’m happy yet down but not depressed and living way too much in my head.  I went to see Mouse play in a chamber orchestra last night.  Her parents and two-year-old sister were there.  Kristen is adorable and sweet and lovable, though I see a little rebel rising in her.  Either way, it made my heart ache.  I sat in the audience listening to an orchestra I wished I was playing in sitting next to a little girl I wished I was mothering.  I don’t know why I wasn’t asked to play for this group, but in a way it doesn’t matter to me.  I wasn’t and thats the end of the story.  What I really detest about not being asked to play is the reinforced nagging feeling that somehow my oboe, my love, has abandoned me.  It no longer desires me, calls for me, pulls me.  Yes, my relationship with my oboe has always been rocky.  Its emotional and tumultous, worse than any lover in my life.  But it has been years since I’ve felt so abandoned, so deserted by it.

Perhaps this is partly why I’m starting to become single-minded about this seminary thing.  I don’t know.  But with each day, I become more and more convinced this is the direction I should go.  My biggest concern is now will the degree pay off?  Is it going to be worth it to get this Masters, considering what I want to do?  Is it going to really help me and give me that much of a leg up?  Or just sink me into debt?  Is it more benefitial to just pursue a career in this line and worry about the Masters later?  I don’t know those answers, but I’m working on getting the answers.

But I’m still angry with my oboe.  It’s abandoned me and betrayed me.  Course, now that I think about it, I’m probably transferring a little anger away from where it really belongs.  Those feelings of abandonment and anger and betrayal really should be directed full-force at Newfie.  He promised not to turn his back on me.  I’m not expecting attention 24/7, but I’ve needed to talk to him multiple times over the summer and each time he’s been unreachable.  To further explain, its not like I needed him and he wasn’t there immediately.  I needed him, and so I emailed, IMed, Facebooked and called.  In an effort to not be coy or pretend he could read my mind, I actually said exactly that.  "I need you."  I went even further to say that I understood he was busy, but couldn’t he find a small chunk of time to give me?  I needed my friend, a friend I thought would be there when I said excatly that.  Evidently I was wrong.  More like I was right to resist trusting him on that level.  I fought so hard against letting myself trust him, believe him, allowing myself to need him.  But he was patient and gentle and somehow convinced me to open up.  Perhaps this is all why I’m locked up so tight now.  I don’t know.  He’s back to claiming he’s going to come see me.  I really didn’t believe him until he asked me what weekends would work well for me.  He has a ticket already, dates set and everything.  But evidently it falls on a weekend when I’ve got some stuff going on.  Not like never available busy, but there would have been better weekends for him to visit.  So he’s now going to pay an extra $50 to change his ticket dates.  Does that mean he’s coming to see just me?  I thought there were other people here he wanted to hang out with, stay with.  Now I’m worried that he’s here to see only me.  If that’s true, what does that mean?  Makes me anxious and nervous and angry.

Needing someone is like needing a parachute.  If he’s not there the first time, chances are you won’t be needing him again. 

A few days ago, a harsh storm cell moved through the town.  These pictures are taken looking off my deck as the sun was setting.

Kind of puts into picture what I’ve been feeling lately.  Beauty and anger and light and dark all at once.

all alone in the traffic
all sense of the game is long gone
mouth twisted up and lips like coal
tired of spinning you get anything you want

we don’t have to be lovers
we don’t have to be friends for no one
black souls inthe desert
heads spinning you get anything you want

back down to the glorious #1
my prints all over the smoking gun
back down to the glorious #1
all lines to the living are now undone
back down to the glorious #1

her fingers felt like a fire
her skin’s shifting
the words are so clear
left a burning desire
one flash will get you anything you want

back down to the glorious #1
my prints all over the smoking gun
back down to the glorious #1
all lines to the living are now undone
back down to the glorious #1

back down to the glorious #1
my prints all over the smoking gun
back down to the glorious #1
all lines to the living are now undone
back down to the glorious #1

Glorious #1 ~ Remy Zero