something about us (ode to autumn revisited)

you are my one, my only.

how could i go on without the sweet caresses of your embrace?

without the gentle comfort of your scent?

stepping out into your crisp, cool air

is an invigoration only akin to sex and coffee first thing in the morning.

curling up with a blanket and a pumpkin spice latté while watching you rain

is almost better than nuzzling my face between a warm pair of breasts.

but i know that you cannot always be mine.

you think i am too clingy, and you feel the need to put some distance between us.

soon you will leave, and give your friend winter

the go-ahead to fuck me in the ass while you're gone.

and i let him

because i know that enduring his cold disinterest

is the only way to get you back.

so while you're here,

i wanted to remind you how deeply i love you.

how, without you, my life would be stripped of its happiest moments.

without you, my favorite plaid jacket would stay hidden forever.

my favorite flavors would forever be a mystery.

and i would forget why i started running.

i know you hate when i get clingy,

so i won't tell you how much i'm going to cry when you leave.

but, just this once, won't you think about staying?

because i suck at life

here i find myself, yet again, writing on this here blog machine as a means of procrastination. i have to write a presentation paper on a moretti article which, unlike most secondary reading for this class, i actually comprehended. the problem is, i'm not a tree maker, so i don't quite know how to make a presentation on this piece that isn't a mere summary. thus, i write blog instead. 

i don't really have much to say; i'm tired of telling the identity theft (and loss of precious percocet!) story, so if you don't know about it already you can ask me at a later date. or ask someone else who can tell it. i have, however, been thinking a lot lately about how i feel uncomfortable in much of the clothing i own. a good portion of the time, i dress myself for the day, theoretically okay with what i have put on, only to later realize that no, in fact i hate what i'm wearing. why do i even own this atrocity? who was i when i bought this? because surely i wasn't myself. and then it occurs to me that i no longer have a sure sense of what is "myself" when it comes  to clothes. sure, i've had different phases, and i've never maintained a consistent aesthetic, but at any given moment in my life i've always felt like me in my clothes (we'll conveniently ignore ages 14-17 for the purposes of this exploration. i'm going to chalk up those years to extenuating circumstances). for example, although i now dismiss most people with dreadlocks who wear skirts over their jeans as stupid hippies, there was a time when i felt comfortable in such an aesthetic. even my 9-year-old fashion (bold as it was), with my neon blue leggings, canvas flats, and oversized, overworn t-shirt with bunnies on it, felt, at the time, like me. 

but now i don't feel like me. i've thrust myself into a semi-professional environment, with neither the money nor the time to develop a wardrobe that reflects both my environment and my personality. i still wear the things i have, but they are beginning to feel less and less like me. and when i do acquire something new, it seems out of place in the clothing limbo that i currently feel stuck in. it seems that part of the problem, like i mentioned, is a lack of the resources necessary (money and time) for the creation of a new aesthetic. another part of the problem (perhaps the most substantial part) is that i still haven't quite discovered what that aesthetic is. in other words, despite constantly realizing what isn't me, i still can't figure out what is me (the right now me). 

am i having an identity crisis? maybe. mostly, though, i just don't want to write this presentation.