Lucid Waking

Archive for March, 2009

Ariadne

It’s only a piece of thread
That leads me from this maze
And should it break instead
The map is lost within my mental haze
When fate comes crashing upon
My unprotected head
I’ll sit and whistle meekly
To be saved from harbored dread.
It’s only a piece of thread
Holding together the pieces of my mind
Padded walls await me
Should I be left behind.

Pieces of Me

        I never liked it when she drove: she liked to take risks that would scare a racecar driver. She had no sense of decency when she was behind the wheel and she called whatever speeding, weaving, and cutting-off she did “fun,” which was why, against her will, of course, she was pushed into the back corner of the van as far away from the driver’s seat as she could possibly go. At least she had the window seat.
        “You’re no fun,” she yelled up to me. “You could have switched lanes back there and then we wouldn’t be going behind the one truck for miles who happens to be going ten under the speed limit.”
        “Shut up, Chaos,” I yelled back to her through clenched teeth. “At least I won’t get us killed.”
        “Besides, we’re not in a hurry,” said Optimism from the middle row of seats. She kept her eyes on the expansive rows of corn we were traveling through as if it was a cutthroat match of table ping-pong. Pessimism sat beside her and kept quiet, her chin in a hand that covered a small smile.
        “Trucks can’t go as fast as we can, anyway. It’s against the law,” said Superego. She shifted her glasses higher up on her nose with a long finger as she studied our route on a large road map spread out in front of her.
        Chaos stuck her tongue out at Superego, but remained silent. Rationality put her hand on Chaos’ shoulder.
        “It was a really risky shift and we might not have made it anyway. The truck is twice our size; let’s not get killed.”
        I sighed and relaxed my grip on the steering wheel. Going to California alone was the worst idea I ever followed up with. Sure, it would give me time to cope with myself, but what do doctors know of the things I need to cope with? I’ve never seen anyone else followed by a crowd of puzzle pieces that make up their psyche.
        “Your problem,” the doctor had said looking over a clipboard while I sat there in a flimsy paper robe, “is you have too much stress. You should get away for a while and relax. If you need a therapist, I can refer you to Dr. Morris. He’s a good doctor.”
        But somehow Rationality had convinced me that I didn’t need a therapist. Optimism did her best to get me through the increased stress I had getting projects done for work and going through several hoops to get me a two-week vacation. Pessimism supported me by being unusually quiet and even Chaos stayed out of the picture. But when I went to leave alone, I suddenly had six extra suitcases in my trunk and six pairs of excited eyes waiting for me to get into the driver’s seat. Somehow Rationality had managed to get Chaos to sit next to her for the duration of the trip.
        “I spy with my little eye something…green,” said Creativity looking out the window.
        “Now nothing that we’ve just past, you know,” said Chaos. “It isn’t fair.”
        I sighed. I should’ve let my boyfriend come with me.
        “He would’ve ruined the trip,” said Pessimism as if she could read my thoughts.
        We continued driving until dusk, when Superego volunteered to take the wheel. All of the passengers in the car argued back and forth whether or not to stop for the night, but I was determined to go at least a little bit farther. And since it was my trip, I reminded them grumpily, I should get my way. Superego had taken a good nap for the majority of the ride, so I trusted her to take us farther into the nearest town.
        “Well, good night then,” she said. “And Chaos, you are not to wake her with any sudden outbursts of energy. Pessimism, you stay quiet as well.”
        “She needs to drive for a while tomorrow,” said Rationality pulling Chaos’ head gently closer to her shoulder.
I pushed back the seat just a bit to get comfortable. My jaw hurt, my back protested, but my eyes were heavy and I wanted to get to a sunny beach in California as soon as possible.

Tigger in the Sun

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St. Patty’s Day: A Tribute

I hate the color green
And don’t have a drop of Irish blood
I’d rather sing “God Save the Queen”
Than cheer “Erin go Bragh!”

I do not like potatoes,
Corn beef, cabbage, or beer
I’d much rather eat tamales
Than the odd produce that appears.

I do not like St. Patty’s Day
But something makes me cheer
Because I like respect and unity
To look forward to every year.

Teagan

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Unfortunately, this isn’t available for prints since it’s a comission. But if you want info on prints –> click here