I am shaking so hard. There are so many reasons why. A long cold walk in the night air, the old chemicals racing through my body again, my heart. I had thought I was not wanted, excluded on purpose. I was hurt and recoiled into myself, ready to close a door for my own protection. But I couldn't do it, and I knew I needed to fix what was off center in me. I grabbed onto the spirit of Carew, whose inertia gave me the lift I needed to fly it on my own. So we just went. We walked in and I wanted to kick myself. The rejection was all in me, a projection. Still uncomfortable, I found calming stability in the familiar curls of Elizabeth. She is wonderful, she draws me down from my perched hiding place in my head. People are sharing their poetry. I feel inadequate. These people are special and I just sit back and try to soak them in. I feel something slightly wrong though, everyone is talking about themselves. Shouldn't we expand beyond ourselves. Yet I suppose that's what we're dealing with most these days. I want to join in with my own stories and experiences, but what right do I have to talk. When I do try, words start to coagulate in my head and it is a knot that I can't get out, can't release. Liz leaves but my soul is still flustered. I need to touch, soothe someone else and myself. I ask if I can touch Justin's hair. Scared to do so at first, that I will be rejected, it took all I had just to ask. I learn through touch, that is how I know things. There are more ways of touching than with the hands, but hands are more practiced at the art. Touches scare me sometimes. A touch is given because you feel the person wants to be touched, and you want to touch them. Yet so often it is manipulated. A touch can take, more than it is supposed to, and leave you in pain. Or you can reach out where you perhaps shouldn't, misunderstanding, and you feel it deeply. So many modes of communication possible. I am thankful for this evening, in so many ways. I was able to touch someone, one who so often pushes me away and makes me feel inadequate. It pisses me off when people do that, but that's not their problem. He has made me realize this. Carew and her wonderful spirit that I so admire, such assurance. A wonderful walk with Balthazar, I am touched by how much he has observed in me. I wonder if I am that easy to read, or does he take the time to look deeper. Who else sees the way he does I wonder. I wonder about my own simplicity. I feel so provincial compared to them, to so many. Farm girl, deeply connected to the soil which holds my souland to the other living creatures that share our life force yet ignorant in so many areas. I don't even know how to be honest with myself. I have the feeling that I have nothing to offer anyone that they don't already know. Yet in a strange way, I was appreciating myself tonight. I am finding it harder and harder to talk these days, and even harder to actually say something. It is painful with so much going on in my head, but forcing myself to speak is not the answer. Perhaps this writting is. Night after night of racing heart, shaking hands, convulsing body. Tears on the verge, tearing at my hair, pushing the envelope of my soul. Feeling a downward spiral of isolation from myself, incapable to yell out for help. But tonight I found I could soothe parts of myself without forcing. Stroking Justin's nest of hair, trying to find ways to scratch his scalp. Just that someone would feel comfortable to lean on me. Would want to touch. Not that I always want touch though, there are times when I recoil from any extended hand. Yet tonight I need the recognition, I felt like it was the first time in a while that anyone truly felt me. I was thrown by it though, when I felt myself being realized, and didn't know what to do. I tried to hide under some of my old covers, but I found they didn't quite fit anymore. It was not me, it was obvious and I was embarrassed. It's all okay though. I don't know how I will keep these feelings alive, if I will be able to continue on as myself, without the ornaments of distraction in my head. These moments of happiness seem so few and far between that I am grateful to get it down.