undone and undefined

have you ever read heidegger's thing about van gogh? items disappearing into their function?

i've been thinking a lot about that in terms of relationships. it's so easy to disappear into our function - security, sex, service ... and i wonder, how do we reclaim the space where we can be seen again? how do we come into focus once more?

and by 'we,' i mean 'me' ... well, 'i.' how do i come into focus?

i feel fuzzy lately. undefined.

i am not the wife, not the mother, not the boss, not the best friend, not the girlfriend, not the one. i'm neither here nor there, neither coming or going ... standing somewhere in the middle, highlighting some, holding up the others ...

... and crushed under their weight ... crushed under the wait for that kinder, gentler, easier sort of life - the kind others seem to pass through with ease and without knowledge that it could ever be any different.

i know, i know! nobody made me do this ... i chose this life ... i lifted myself right out of the old one ... dorothy's house falling out of the sky ... and landing with a giant thud. i am the cyclone and the witch and the little girl waiting for her eyes to adjust from black and white to technicolor and wondering when the dust will finally settle, wondering where i'm headed, wondering what happens next.

and on this day where i've taken everything personally... i wonder what's mine.

it's no one else's fault that i feel angry or hurt or a million different things tonight. it has nothing to do with anyone in particular and the events themselves are not important. when viewed independently, they are comical almost - their depth and breadth not nearly as heavy as their collective weight. they won't even make great stories one day, the kind i love to tell, laughing so hard in their midst i have to pause for breath to continue.

so i'll just say that the day was long and tiresome and ... heartbreaking; not the heartbreak of losing a lover, but that of losing faith in myself - the sudden knowledge that maybe the world isn't in love with me or against me, just indifferent.

and i may have designed my life so that i'll find myself alone, just as i've come to the middle of it.

and i hope i'm wrong.