giddy

The last couple of days, in spite of a major fallout with a good friend (a death of sorts), I've been finding bits of my Giddy everywhere (a rebirth of sorts)! Some was wedged in the medicine cabinet, right between face washes, lotions, toothpaste, and eye drops. Some I found in the closet, scrunched in with a bunch of photos of good friends and family. A little bit was scattered on the roadside, and another floating quietly in my cup of coffee. I'm hearing it through the stereo, I'm seeing it in people, I'm tasting it in my food, I'm smelling it in the air, and I'm feeling it with good friends, in Sunshine's arms, and abundantly in my spine. Every now and again, in some contexts, I sometimes I forget that's there. At any rate, my old Giddy is a little worn for the wear and has collected some gnarly scars, but it's good to have her back.

I still say I could die today, but I think that's the point. Whatever happens in this life and whatever choices I make, good or bad, I want to always feel like I could die any second with no regrets and no loose ends. Yes yes.... There will always be some loose ends, but I guess my goal is to minimize them. Living perfectly is impossible, so I know I'll continue to make my fair share of mistakes, and right now I'm good with that. The only thing left right now in this life would be goodbyes, but that's what the loose ends post is about.... Tying up emotional loose ends and making a final statement of love, respect, and admiration for my friends and family because... well... constantly dwelling in the heavy gets old, burdensome, and fucking annoying to be quite honest. It's fun to say "I love you." It feels good, but it doesn't have to be the final dramatic scene in a movie every second of every day. Intimacy, I think-- romantic or otherwise-- has a fundamental element of knowing and trusting at the very core that the love is there without having to cram it down each others throat or subject one another to an endless montage of power ballads and poetry. Don't get me wrong when I say this, as I cherish hearing Sunshine tell me he loves me, and my whole body warms when I express it to him; but I've previously made the mistake of falling into the slippery sinkhole of *excessive* external validation for myself and for others (still haunted by a most recent account), and it ultimately renders the words empty and the sentiment hollow and desperate. Without the core sense of trust, no amount of juicy, luscious words or deeds will quell the thirst for more. Intimacy and intensity, even as they pepper one another with layers of excitement and feelings, should not be mistaken for one another.*(*reference Betrayal Bonds)

As for now, it's time to give up this coffee shop table and get back on the road with my sweet Ecuadorian street mutt who's patiently gnawing at his rawhide as I type, periodically and bluntly looking up at the hurried passersby. It feels good to pass go in the slow lane today.