August on Me

I was crossing the street again to no avail of the pedestrian lane. If that makes me stubborn, then let it be. I am not in any sort of argument mood to even contest such idea. Or worse, I am acquiescent to the idea itself. Oh, whichever.

Migraine hit me like nuts last night. It pounded, hammered, punched my head in convincing power. I was all too well out of sink I can't even imagine how I managed to tuck myself in to sleep, a deep one at that. There's no point ranting I, guess. I was facing Monday heads up.

I don't know if this is some sort of a sign, me being jumpy. My birthday's coming this weekend and I can't believe I'm sort of slammed out by the thing itself. In short, I was and am having a hard time. There's no pin-pointing here, but I feel me swell all because of a thousand of things I couldn't blame anything but the universe! Did I just say 'There's no pin-pointing here.' See, I'm sort of lost too. Hands up.

August, well, started out just fine for me, I mean better. Buoyant thoughts, I had lots of it. I felt some sudden urge to paint the walls yellow, despite the gloominess of that night. I couldn't care less if my wedges got all dirty. The drizzles made it all so much more special. And for the first time, I felt some blanket of security warm me down. And yes, I was overwhelmed. And hopeful. And anxious. And weepy. And thankful. All at the same time.

I couldn't have missed out on anything. I was just kind of surprised there were only a few instances I could actually draw attention into about this month. But that don't make these things any less important as they mean to me. In fact, these things keep me going. My sort of resolute stimulants. And I'm holding on to it, defying grip.

Silence seems to be learning to maneuver its way in me, being the outspoken person that I am, that's quite a thing, you know. Sometimes, it felt painfully good keeping my mouth shut. Some other times I felt volcanically eruptive, doing some abrupt hushing-myself-down ritual.

I have always been aware though of the temper that I have. And I believe I have had substantial control of that too. And yes, no matter how far from hushed I seem to be now, it's the aftermath of long and grueling undertakings. A-huh. And I say undertakings.

But lately, I felt I was pushed to the limit. My fury towering higher against me. And I was quite afraid I'd push on the wrong button. I knew I need to calm myself down and consider better options being laid on the table. I managed, I supposed, it was a fair act on my part, but the thought of it, pulled my disappointment back together, rationality won't even bother to enter the picture anymore, the situation being just a gimme, even a toddler would give me a thumbs up. And I am sticking by my decision in its most fervent sense.

And I just got to sit out the idea, is this really happening or am I just being critical: Queen of attention to details?

Yes, you can call me that too besides sensitively emotional. I could but I wouldn't argue.

Sometimes I can't help but dig deep into things, borderline paralyzing already. It's maiming and destructive and selfish; my harbor of self-defense maybe. And I was a little less mindful it has become self and others inflicting too. Momentarily, I felt I lost control there.

And I just had to wonder why in this lifetime Patience and me have always been not so good company. There could have been a lot of other things about us, I mean my being impatient. Maybe that one I can dig ground deep. I just couldn't get a good hold at it. I have always extended hands to Patience to play the game nice with me. I just don't know if I lost grip or focus or whatever, it always seem to fall out of hand.

My weekend's kind of full of drama. Reading on Eat, Pray, Love from the train Friday night, I couldn't stop flipping the pages. It was so heartfelt I plan to read it again and munch on the crisps of Elizabeth Gilbert's wit. And I tell you, it's moving. Well, at least for me.

Sunday beat a ten-time roller-coater ride. Maybe I shouldn't have rode it. Hard-earned lesson.

Bottom line? Migraine and heart burn.

Something of which I'd like to beg off for my birthday.

Oh, please.

I have had enough.