[I] may be crazy but I'm the closest thing I have to a voice of reason.

11 July 2010

Hello from Me and My Monkey

The deeper you go, the higher you fly.
The higher you fly, the deeper you go.
So come on. Come on.
. . . .
Everybody’s got something to hide
‘cept for me and my monkey.

Your inside is out when your outside is in.
Your outside is in when your inside is out.
So come on. Come on.
. . . .
Everybody’s got something to hide
‘cept for me and my monkey.
^_~

Dear Sweet Readers. My song tonight is a little wink to you. Anyone who’s a regular reader here knows I don’t hide much. Alright, who am I kidding? I don’t hide anything! The funny thing is, if you knew me in my everyday life you’d also know that I’m rather a private person and that I don’t tell tales out of school. In other words, if you confide in me, your secret is safe. My own secrets are safe with me, too. While I would lay odds that most of you can’t imagine I have any secrets, given my writing style, the fact of the matter is that we all have things we keep to ourselves and we all need a hidey-hole from time to time, no one more so than those of us who are in the habit of laying our lives bare.

So tonight I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. It is all the truth, what I write; it happened. It’s also performance art.

Recently, I had a new Twitter friend express some worry that, and I’m interpreting here, I was too nice for her to be nice to. Which made me laugh. It’s true, I am genuine. And sincere. And happy. At least most of the time. I am also a bipolar being with big baggage carried by even bigger demons who shed heavily and shit everywhere. No joke. My house is a wreck because my demons live here. They’re worse than teenagers on drugs. I try not to let ‘em out in public if I can help it. It’s bad enough they have to live with me. The only thing they’re really good for is fodder for the stories I tell. But y’all knew that. Here’s my point, and also what I told the woman who’d witnessed only my helpful, sincere persona and thought me a little too sweet for her taste: I'm a happy person who writes like Marilyn Manson performs; a demon in lipstick. I mean, you don’t think Marilyn wears those costumes to the grocery store, do you? Neither do I. My life works best when I regularly take the monkey on my back out for a spin with the top down and the radio blaring. It’s what I do. But do my everyday peeps, my friends and family get to see this? Not on your life, not unless they read it here. Out in the everyday world, me and my monkey are chill.

It’s all performance art, people. Think about it. Isn’t all life that way?

Doesn’t circumstance lead us all? Forcing us to decide, daily, which parts of our personality to put forward and which to relegate to the background? Don’t all of us have parts of ourselves that only our lovers or partners see? And parts we save for church, for children, for chatting with the neighbors? Another part that comes out at parties and family gatherings? And then, yes, there are those few who make a living by saying and doing the outlandish things that we all think but dare not say or do ourselves. This would be where I sigh because I don’t make a living at this just yet.

That’s it. Nothing profound to say today. The real reason I’m here is to say hello. It’s been three weeks since the last post, way too long for my taste. I haven’t been lazy. Okay, I’ve been a little lazy. And exhausted. And sick. By turns. Yesterday I had just enough energy to lie in front of the television and watch three Harry Potter movies. On better days, I’ve also been happily slaving away on a blog that has gotten larger, longer, and more interesting than I had originally anticipated. So I’ve been giving it time to fully ripen and mature. In the mean time, I feel like I am ignoring you. I kinda am. So this blog is my check-in, my place to say WATCH THIS SPACE for “One Last Breath”, which is what I’m currently working on. Here's a taste:

Eventually he was driven to using a needle until he needed liquor to take the edge off and encourage sleep, a sleep that never came. Satisfaction never came either. It would touch down and then fly off again, like a plastic bag whipped about in the wind.

I’ll be posting “One Last Breath” just as soon as I can bring it to completion. Middle of next week is what I’m guessing.



One more thing. I’m starting work with the shaman again. We have struck a bargain: two months of intensive work and then I’m done. During that time I will not be posting a blog. So somewhere around the 21st, 22nd, 23rd of July you’ll see me post my last blog for the summer. Then it’s two months of putting my darling demons through their paces, separating the low-level energy suckers from the true blue freaks. Just think of me as being on a two month retreat into my hidey-hole. With hairy things that go bump in the night.


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4 comments:

  1. I'll be watching this space! ;)

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  2. Happier words I have never heard. Thanks, hon.

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  3. Your uncanny self-expose has left me speechless, we all can learn from you concerning the self healing process. Thankyou Dina, I continue to marvel at your humbling honesty. TYSM! jeff (renothespinner)

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  4. Funny thing is, *I* am left speechless over your compliment. Really hate it when that happens. ;) Thank you, Jeff.

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