difficult weekend, for more reasons than one.

pushed a lot of heavy things alone through the projects again. was smiling though... absolutely magnificent weather. the pjs may have iron bars cunningly shaped into curtains on all of the first-floor windows, but at least they are surrounded by lots of gorgeous old trees. another gorgeous thing - my own tenacity. always brings a serene smile to my face, after the tears have dried. wouldn't (and can't) buy it at a cheaper price, however. good to be out and about on the street, to have a few people greeting me as i pass. feels good, feels right.

first jog of the season as well - 2 miles total, one mile straight through. trying to get back on the ol' "straight and narrow" as i call it. nowhere near as out of shape as i imagined i was. park was lovely, but it's always hard to appreciate scenic beauty when you're desperately focusing on not dying. no, it really wasn't that bad at all. cracks me up that i have to put my keys in my sports bra as my running shorts have no pockets, and the cagey look around that i gave before reaching in and pulling them out when i got to my stoop was truly hilarious.

also had my first "real" photoshoot as a model... i hesitate to say real only because it was for a friend's personal project, for the modelling i did was very real. and difficult! and made even more so by the fact that we were shooting outdoors on a busy streetcorner from 12-2 am on a friday night in bushwick. in true top model fashion i was wrestling with the elements, trying to ignore passers-by (including one douche who jumped in the shot with me) and wearing shoes that were two sizes too big... but i worked it out, natch! shots look super. don't want to post them yet 'til i get permission from my girl but i'll see what i can do. (copyright law is totally fucked in america, fyi.)

i lept out into the darkness - and someone caught me, for once. my worst fears have come true - and that's not even the fucked up part... the fucked up part is that it isn't so bad, it's bad but not terrible, not awful at all. i am skilled, an adept at lying to others but one thing i could never master was lying to myself... for the most part. but these fears of mine, these tired, moldy fears, well - now that they're here, they're almost nothing, nothing at all... each passing day my will, my resolve, my being, my breath crumbles them. and as hard as it seems, when i have a bad hour or two or three, i can look out over the horizon now and laugh, laugh a little at how i thought i was holding them at bay when they had already eaten my heart out. laugh at how i dreaded them for so long while living among them. and now, on the other side, i purge the worms and move on. i have my moments, certanly, my anguish is always a precious ruby i wear in my breast. however - however, it's really okay. i'm here. i'm alive, i'm making it. i'm not running away, i'm running towards.... what? myself, i suppose.

let the sun come in so the shadows are cast.

(of course, there is still the problem of other people.)