sex

sitting in the bathtub last night. reading about rabbits and hats and being sawn in half, interspersed with death and grief.

i realized that part of what got me through . was denial. not denial in the normal sense. but... still, a form of it.

i didn't necessarily pretend that certain things were never said. i just block them. because remembering them still is a sharp knife to my sternum. so they just disappear. sometimes i feel them crowding behind my eyes, and i have to go blank. picture a white screen in my mind.

there are certain things that can't be processed and then used to make you stronger. because all they do is break you down over and over. make you question your worth. so they lay dormant and still like a not-so-dead-volcano. behind the white screen. rumbling occasionally. i wish i could just toss in a virgin and have it over with. appeased.

last night i dreamed about wtiches. not wiccans. not heathens or pagans. but you know. real good vs bad witches who made things happen with crazy spells. i was one too, and trying to escape on an airplane with the 'book' .... one of the 'bad' was just a child.

and the dream switched and i was entering a night club that was in a basement. brick walls. with my high school boyfriend. introducing him to crotchety, as though it would be ok. and i realize that it's my subconscious' way of dreaming about fuzzy without giving it his face. because in my mind they are so similar and so different.

but it was a sexual dream. my sexuality has been like that volcano for so long, when i dream it again. when it builds itself up from the foundations and i dream lust. i don't want to wake up. lust is like a beacon and a danger at hte same time now. i fear it. i want it.

but. i'm telling you.

i did not want to wake up.

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