The Disenchanted Princess

I threw away some bad art the other day. Walked back to the trash bin thinking that I should have kept it but then no it's done. It's gone and I am better for it. But I'm not and I miss it now despite the years I never looked at it. Threw away dancing salt and pepper containers to Moonlight Sonata and downtown interviews the kitchen tutus stalking me and a soap opera. Dreaming of Miranda July and a piece of lint floating in the sky. In a better world without toxicity but then poison seeped in just with an email. Bringing back the evil so easily and trying to rope me into conversation because of offering some stories on an old computer. Convinced myself not to be honest with those that mattered and were in fact loved then thinking they didn't care. He didn't care. And now regret. It might be pointless, weird even maybe and yet just too late. Let it go. Conflicted about honesty. Embarrassing situations repeating. Letters never sent. Writing epic novels of nothing in a journal and amazed how much comes out. Yards and yards of fabric hand dyed paper woven structures and felt balls are now a joking matter. But I had believed and seen it. And really everything has meaning. Zero direction and too many places to go. Expectations are too high from everyone. Starting to withdraw again. Put the seal skins back on and jump back into the ocean. Swim.