these are not my demons

There are more ghosts with me these days.

When I was 19, I had only two. And those were quiet, just grief and ancestral insistence. Now there are three more. One is quiet, and gave me a hug once when I needed it. One is cold and far away, but constant, like starlight. One I thought was gone, but feels as if it has claws, and blood, and strings tied to me it can pull.

I don't know how to get rid of the demons that haunted that soul, who now seem to want to stay with me.

pendulum calendar

This is how the year feels.
January is when my second mom was born.
                                                                        February is when my two cousins were born.
April is when my mom died. And when Grampa was born.
                                                                        May is when a sister was born. And a nephew.
                                                                        June is when a sister was born. And a niece.
July is when my second mom died. And when my mom was born.
                                                                        July is when a sister was born.
                                                                        August is when a sister was born.
September is when my Gramma died. And when my father was born, apparently.
October is when my Grampa died. And when my Gramma was born.

It makes sense why people have children.
It changes the calendar.
Trying to remain in the black with your grief:joy ratio.

spring

sitting safe
sipping wine
reading philosophy
i feel the world spin
i feel my heartbeat in each fingertip
this too shall pass

irony

this is the first time i've intentionally drunk a bottle of wine by myself in a year.
because, mostly anyway, today i read about bombing syria (and missing) and killing civilians, again, bombing afghanistan with the largest bomb in existence that hasn't been used before, with who knows what implications, and threatening N korea knowing S korea would simply be sacrificed if something started... imagining the sweet family who got momentarily famous a few weeks ago who lives there, and an ex that lived in guam with the navy for a while...
the alcohol relaxes my restraints on emotions and thoughts.
i think about teaching meditation, and how maybe that's all i can do. if i can.
i imagine a job where i am allowed to do what i believe in, but am quite uncertain that is possible.
i feel the loss of my mom, my second mom, my two grandparents i loved so much. and the fact that i've been easy to leave since my dad wanted nothing to do with me since before i was born. i want guidance. reassurance. to not feel alone right now when another world war seems imminent. because of "us".
i am quite certain that i have missed my chance at love and a family. and i wonder what will be fulfilling in its place, if the world ends (for humans) or if it doesn't, and if i am an irredeemable failure already.
and i text my best friend who's on an island.
i talk to my best friend upstairs.
i write to myself here.
i compose in my head the (sober) letter i'll write in the morning to my best friend in santa fe.
i remember my other sister is skiing this week.
i wish the things i love were easier for me to hold onto.
and then. i really do love a good corsican rosé. minerals, astringent fruit, and crisp florals.
maybe if the world does end soon, i'll become a sommelier.