I love you. Good-bye.

Perhaps the psyche's,
Erica's psyche's,
committed
pathological
self-hatred
is actually profound
self-love
in disguise.
 
Or at least a loving sort
of self-preservation.
 
Look,
says Erica's psyche,
or part of it
(I don't know how that works.
I did not go to grad school.),
Look,
says whatever it is.
You hate yourself so much,
there's no way that anyone
could ever expect
you to pull off
anything.
 
Pressure's off!
Allelujuah.
 
Go,
Clean a refrigerator.
Or sell a tie-dyed t. shirt.
to a new exhausted mother.
 
Hell,
just give it away.

Hell,

if you miss a chunk of mildew

in the meat drawer,

or a grain of rice,

at this point

it will still

be a bonus.

An unlikely almost miracle.

 

You're a bit of a wimp

slash

an odd and complex emotional nutjob

slash

your Cool Friend Fern

once called you

A Magical Creature.

 

Everything's fine.

You're fine.

 

Go,

have a good time.

I love you.

Good-bye.

 

The End. 

When I was four years old
I loved myself so much
that I farted
so I would look way better than my sister
in this picture.

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go

Bodhisattva Business Ventures:
 
Deep Cleans by Erica J. Schmidt (@deepcleanswitherica)
Montreal Hippie Threads (@mtlhippiethreads)
Instagram: @montrealhippiethreads

I do not know how to fulfill my enormous potential.
My Ego Throws Up When I Won't Believe It
Five Days of Creative Recovery

Deep Unyielding Depression, Part One
Deep Unyielding Depression, Part Two

 

 

Professional, Depressed

Professional,
Depressed.
My strength in life is not
ignoring any part
of myself.

If anyone’s low on self-awareness,

it seems I’ve got plenty to spare.

The mourning and wailing cannot be postponed any longer.

Neither can the mopping,
that was merely
wishful thinking.

The truth is
I rarely put off
any of it.
Not the mourning,
not the wailing,
not the mopping.
They say I am quite
an industrious person.

S-N-A-G

stands for
Sensitive New Age Guy.
These have been around for decades.

But I invented SNAPS

Sensitive New Age Parties
Where birthday girls
sit in their decorative bathtubs
and await bless-ed rose petal showers,
as cellos sing
and guests gorge on Manifested Desserts,
and from SNAG to SNAW
(Sensitive New Age Woman),
I reverberate like
an awkward anxious monkey.

The best part about SNAPS

is I get to recount
that a SNAG
at the SNAP
graced me with his promise
of life
after being
an awkward anxious monkey.

Even for

the peripheral

people like me.

Hardwired to cleaning other people’s refrigerators
And bathtubs.
Also, lending themselves to other people’s husbands.
Also, Professional Depression.

Way up in the sky,

It looks like spring.
My body recoils,
ashamed it will not
live up to the promise.

My sleeves still feel damp
from yesterday’s rain.
I am not very good
at cutting off parts
of myself.

The End.

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go

Bodhisattva Business Ventures:
 
Deep Cleans by Erica J. Schmidt (@deepcleanswitherica)
Montreal Hippie Threads (@mtlhippiethreads)
Instagram: montrealhippiethreads

This is just me giving myself Grace on the corner of Saint Laurent and Saint Viateur at 3 PM on a Tuesday
Deep Unyielding Depression, Part One
Sad Face

 

Awakened by the Exit of the Broccoli Water

Awakened by the
exit of the
broccoli water.
I hope you're alright.
You sound a bit shitty.

 

Once upon a time, there was a broccoli shirt.
The broccoli and the cauliflower
were best friends

Please
Don't worry about me.
I have a jade egg for my vagina now.
Everyone's tired
of hearing about it
Already.

Vincent suggests, "Don't shit where you eat."
But sometimes you shit
Or shit vaguely,
And still get invited
For snacks.

In other news,
The OkCupid foodies
Are naming themselves after tacos.
Unimaginable tacos
Un-vaginal tacos.
Gordon Taco.
Taco Guillaume.

Almost all the tacos
Contained iceberg lettuce.
A heart that sighs
does not have all it desires.

Taco69
plus some kind of trendy salsa
And one of those unconvincing
references to happiness.

"I am wat U R looking for."
"Who is Magareth Atwood?"
Likely
the arc
has to do
with needs.

"I hope I'm not a narcissist,"
said the Married Man.
My sense is
he hates himself
too much.

An unexplained craving for radishes.
I want to preserve my Youth!

My dear Lady,
I saw your page.
Your are
very nice
And beautiful.

Condescending Taco
Corrected a "to"
With not enough o's
Or too many.

He remarked upon
What seems to have been
My emotionally turbulent life.

Well,
I am not
a delicate flower.
Though I do have a soft spot
for Vincents and Patricks.

Hi dear Lady.
Did you receive my message?

On a Friday in September
My life's sheer lack of agency
Felt like it was something
to celebrate.

My dear Lady
I am Patrick.
Love to meet you.
Am impressed.

On a Friday in December,
after visiting several spiritual places,
we stopped on the side of the road
on the way back to Rishakesh.

I pissed for what seemed like five minutes.
None of it got on my snowsuit

While we're at it,
Ira Glass sang a song this week.
He does not sing well.
I have never heard you sing
But it made me think of you.

The End.

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go

Bodhisattva Business Ventures:
 
Deep Cleans by Erica J. Schmidt (@deepcleanswitherica)
Montreal Hippie Threads (@mtlhippiethreads)
Instagram: montrealhippiethreads

The Erica Museum
Not That Kind of Girl
Why  I am like Oprah

 

They smile at the sidewalks even though it's cold as balls and they must remain on leashes.

Places where you had the true joy.
Or saw it.

Beautiful Neurotic.

There is something to be cherished
in those who are so serious.

On February 11, I will ask the Boatman to send me the bottles of castor oil I brought back from India in 2014.
Unless he already threw them out.

Included in my update, I will mention that I ordered my first full basket of French Fries.
I ate the whole thing.
With ketchup, and even some mayonnaise.
Survived the ordeal
free from both obesity,
and heartburn.

Vincent would be proud of the risk.

Groundhog Day, 2017

Today I might write a letter
To my old Expensive Friend David.
Vincent is subsidized,
but David cost
one hundred and seventy bucks per hour.
He was worth it.
Halifax is
a torturous place
to find friends.

I never got to learn very much about David,
except that he had more than one kid,
and however many children he had,
they all preferred texting
over talking on the phone.

David was generous with his time.
David also seemed to love purple.

Dear David,

I really like purple too.
Really, really, really like it.
Even more than I did in Halifax.

 I really really really love purple.

Tips for Surviving Life:
Prozaac, and Underemployment.

The Big Blue Sky is still not up.
My room smells like a stuffy sleepy person.
The duvet failed to get me off this morning.
Where are the buzz kills,
and who.

Dear Married Man,
It has occurred to me
that I might consider
crawling out from under the table
and re-emerging with some of my dignity.

Next time I'm gonna try
Not to knock all the dignity over
in the first place.

This would be such a fabulous Country Music Song.
Another missed calling!
Alas.

You know all about these.
I love you and don't worry about it.

Unrestrained enthusiasm or joy.
Thinking about this again
And all the people at vipassana
who have been observing the breath below their nostrils
and scanning all their body's cells
as the state of the world unravels.

My computer fan
is evoking the sound
of a low-powered chain saw.

All we've got left
for the pure sanctioned joy
is the babies being born.

Even with the blood
And violence
And fecal matter,
we are allowed to be ecstatic.

I used to be too jaded for this.
But now,
the sight
or the softness
of a onesie
fills me with such hope.

I also see a massive revolution
in the small people
trudging passed Café Olimpico
In vibrant snowsuits twice the size of them.

They do not feel burdened like oversized marshmallows.

They smile at the sidewalks
Even though it's cold as balls
And they must remain on leashes.

The End.

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go

Bodhisattva Business Ventures:
 
Deep Cleans by Erica J. Schmidt (@deepcleanswitherica)
Montreal Hippie Threads (@mtlhippiethreads)
Instagram: montrealhippiethreads

My Ego Throws Up When I Won't Believe It
Hour of God on a Friday
The Vipassana Diaries: Why I Like To Pee Outside

Exalted