Here i go again

a nice weekend. not great . not bad . nice.

i dreamed about funerals twice last week. not the same funeral. nothing ominous or scary. both dreams were interesting in that although i recognized the event as a funeral, there was nothing funereal about it. not in a church. no casket. no rows of chairs. i found a dream dictionary online and from what i can tell, these dreams denote an unconsious or unrecognized desire or need to bury a past event or circumstance. reading about it actually made me feel more sane than i have in two years. finally, my psyche is going toward the light, maybe soon it will catch up with my logic. i know everything is okay. but i feel like nothing is right.

today was chill. did a little housekeeping. moved all my stuff around. have you ever heard george carlin's whole "stuff" routine? it's the greatest ...here it is ... i feel this way lately more and more. i am managed and made healthy or mad by my stuff. there is stuff everywhere. all the time i think about, "i've gotta organize all this stuff." so i take an afternoon, as i did today, and move all the stuff around. i clear off the back desk, clear the dresser (which is full of clothes and unclassified crap that i never wear or use, stuffstuffstuff)... so i move the stuff around where i can't see it as readily. i squeeze it into drawers (filing), or i hang it on a wall (decorating) or i shove it to a new space where it seems not so offensive (procrastinating) and for a few days i'll look around and not see the stuff that i cleared away, and i'll feel good. i'll feel better.... but then in a week or two or a month i'll start to notice that same stuff in other spots around the house and i'll think "i've gotta organize this stuff."

i've been thinking. i don't need to organize any of this shit. i need to dump it. if all i ever use it for is to organize it in a different spot: why the hell do i have it? there is a link between your living space and your mental well being. it's why prisoners are ornery. (well, one reason why.) i'm starting to notice that my space is crammed with crap that no one in this house really wants; doesn't use and doesn't even like the sight of. why do i keep all this fucking stuff? why can't i just toss it? put it all on the curb one night and if someone doesn't come pick it up, let the garbage men have it. i don't know why i can't. i've gotta clear out my space. i'm going to dump this stuff.clear out my space and free up my life.

the front room looks like i'm preparing the opening of a thrift store. it's my "garage sale" pile. it's been there about seven months. i still haven't had the elusive garage sale. dining room table: covered with boxes of movie films sister brought over with mom's old movie projector. i did set it up one night, but couldn't get the ancient thing to stop eating the reels. so there it sits since that night, i guess it was last may. baby's crib is taken apart and sitting up against the dining room wall, which is sheetrock bare from the night i decided to peel off all the wallpaper...about two/half years ago. kitchen cabs are crammed with all imaginable mechanized gadgets, including a never opened ravioli maker and a full set of silver wine goblets, tarnished to disbelief, but wrapped in celophane. i have three sets of tablewear, although i'm not sure if any of them are complete. i could go on, but it's pointless. the point is: i'm sick of stuff. i have too much of it and it's got to move up on my to do list.

once again i'm trying like hell to push myself in front of a mirror and stop trying to see my reflection in someone else's eyes. i want to focus the spotlight-and the magnifying glass-on me, not on the next him. so, as is my usual way, i have a game plan. of course it's easy now; i've 'made a new start' so many damn times that i have a collection of game plans and goals to cut and paste from to create my new timeline. the list is always the same: stick to a weekly schedule, two drink max, no cigarettes, no one-nighters, lose 20 lbs., exercise every day, read your bible, clear out the house-crap, landscape the backyard, yadayadayada....

i may not be where i should be, i'm certainly not close to where i'll end up, but at least i'm not where i was. ... i mean, that's good, right?