NOT YOUR NORMAL TRAIN RIDE

10353427_10152734375295756_716839235316982828_o

(Royal Gorge Bridge & Park, Colorado. 956 feet from bridge deck to Arkansas River below)

(Journal Entry) 9 July 2015 Thursday and the sun is shining 🙂 I must keep to a schedule to accomplish my goals before heading to Shady Grove by 6:30PM (on train time) (lv. apt. by 6PM). 15 min. jog; 30 min. yoga, 30 min. meditation; detox w/last of current smoothie & one made today (gotta use those precious veggies!); read/write; underlined tasks above, shower, *COCONUT MILK  can quickly grab @ ROOTS as G gets table as last resort; hope I conveyed to Syd & D how much I enjoyed hanging out w/her last night. She is a remarkable young woman; I don’t see why we couldn’t be friends. She loves yoga, too *Send her link to doyouyoga.com for weekly emails–they’re full of yoga sequences and interesting articles (not tons; perfect size weekly e-newsletter); they also offer 30-day yoga, meditation, etc., challenges w/experts. One of my favorite emails & that’s saying something because it stood out from all the crap I usually get.

*Origin magazine link (conscious-minded people who change world for better). *Recommend the Yin Yoga book (same poses you’re familiar with but held longer for deeper stretch and restoration); look up best books on how to start a grassroots organization (funding, staff, logistics) & ask S her thoughts from working at Pew***and fairworldproject.org link

What to write about today? Me? What I’ve been doing w/myself? and re-look at blog ideas on Word; Dr. D left 2nd message while I was still asleep–4+ to 11ish and still so tired because I’ve years of sleep to catch up on 🙂 Been doing a pretty great job keeping up w/maintenance cleaning since Annette cleaned last week. Quick toilet scrub along w/bath scrub.

The eternal insect crescendo and decrescendo in summer’s woods is a lovely, comforting hum to these ears. For a second as I wrote about them I smelled the bug repellent we used as kids on summer trips to Big Ridge State Park. Oh how inky black the walks to our cabin were on the gravelly roads carved into the small mountain. I wonder if Big Ridge still exists and rents those cabins anymore?

Stimulate & smoothie ❤ lip goo, c.milk, green, bananas, pina colada cake slice; geranium?

7:35PM @ WF not ready to go home and need “milk” etc. anyway. A man jumped in front of my train heading to Shady Grove tonight. He was right behind our car and alive somehow but don’t know to what extent. He was mere feet from us, me. I know how he must’ve felt right before he did it.

At my sickest, visiting that terrifyingly high bridge in CO w/ the BPs, I had to stand in the middle of the bridge (how I walked onto it to begin with I don’t know) because I had this overwhelming urge to jump off the bridge. Jump right over the rail of the highest bridge in the US, something like that. I’d have the same urge when driving over bridges or on highways undergoing construction that had those cement barriers…but bridges and the metro when we’d come East for the holidays. I don’t know how I held myself back, the urge was that great. Powerful. No voice taunting me. A complete conviction of every cell in my body that hurling myself over that bridge was the right thing to do. A gravitational pull, the earth hundreds of feet below, a massive magnet.

I haven’t felt that kind of temptation in a long while but a few nights ago and so many times before that, that my death was absolutely the best action I could take. I was completely unattached from myself, indifferent, apathetic to this vessel that was me, empty of anything worthwhile.

I wanted to see the man under our train. I wanted to see his face, look into his eyes, let him know I understood, how brave he was, how sorry I was that he lived w/that overwhelming urge to jump, and that I hoped it was right that he survived.

Some will never know peace, know anything but pain, for them dying ends unending, unbearable pain.

Texted what happened to my mom. She answered, “Not your normal train ride.” No.

Time to shop and head home.

Lack of communication is unhealthy.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s