Take me to the pirates

1/1/12     4:30pm

I woke up today hearing myself say, “I have no reason to be happy.” It was strange. Right out of a dream, literally.

There is a light hope in the air. It’s 2012 and new things will be happening. I got a request to be an AVID tutor today. Instead of feeling excited I feel terrified. I already committed to volunteering for 6 weeks to teach dance, which I am thoroughly enthralled by, but it also scares me. I’m not good at balance. I need stuff to do but overwhelm easily and my body just freaks out. I’m scared to live. I didn’t use to be.

I remember when my life was a whirlwind of activity. No one could keep up with me, except my mom. I taught dance and went to school and tutored and wrote and did projects and theater and choir. I had jobs. I had a few friends. I don’t really know what happened. Somehow I lost me.

Now I’m afraid to leave my house some days, terrified not to. I see doctors, go to groups, don’t dance. I write when I can and I live in the fantasy. I live in the fantasy. I want to have a full and productive life. I’d rather be healthy.

I’m frustrated because 2 days ago I was freakin’ out. The pirates were coming and I was happy. Everything was fascinating. I was floating and the world was on edge. But the pirates are gone now. They left me. Why would they leave me? Doesn’t anyone love me? Don’t they understand that I want to go home? My brain feels frozen and hurts. I feel so sad.

(Breathe… Breathe.)

Pervasive sadness has no words. Take me to the pirates.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

The State of Affairs in Michelleville

1/1/12     6:55am

(sigh…) I feel sad.

The last of my guests left an hour ago and I just finished posting pics online. I’m sitting in my chair watching the sunrise out the window. Zoe is playing. Mom’s asleep and Margaret’s online.

I feel sad. Tonight I had a party. Another in a long string of annual ones. Sober game nights with specific friends. I got dressed up. I felt really pretty. We had food and played games and laughed. And of course banged on pots and pans. I shouldn’t feel sad but I do.

There was a little girl here tonight. She was no less than disturbed. She was telling us all about her 5th grade life – specifically the people she hates and their drama. I’ve never felt so old. I had nothing relevant to tell her and was honestly bored. As the night went on we all grew more concerned and disturbed. That child is fucked up, possibly dangerous. I’ve heard a lot of things but I’ve never heard a 10 year old talk so vividly about her need to kill specific people in planned out ways. The kid is evil. And she was freakin’ out. I needed her to leave. I still feel her energy.

(deep breathing…)

I do not look in the pictures how I feel. In fact, I look like a fat hooker. Take back the sands of time.

I think what was most upsetting is that nobody texted me at midnight. No Happy New Years, no FB posts. I didn’t send any midnight texts because Mags was here and my friends were gigging. My best friend disowned me this year and my other friend’s in Ohio. I know it’s annoying to get bombarded with holiday texts from random people, but not even one? The State of Affairs in Michelleville.

I am tired, and I feel sad, and I think my contacts are stuck to my eyes. The pirates came and left without me and I feel sad. Quiet. Sad.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

Mainlining Jazz

12/30/11     9:45pm

Some people do drugs. I don’t do drugs. I do music. And not just any music. Jaazzz music.

Funky shit tonight. I feel dizzy & confused. I shouldn’t listen to the flute. Between my eyes hurts. The dose of poison lies in their minds.

Tonight I am waiting on the dawn of a pirate ship. I’m sitting on the floor behind Chuck’s podium. The fog is thick and everything is lit up. The night is quiet and a cool breeze jostles just the leaves. Something is coming. The ship is coming.

I sit here inside Dizzy’s and watch it happen, all without sound – just jazz – through the windows. The energy is here and the ship is coming. I feel paranoid. Oh the energy. Breathe. Invading my mind.

It may be possible the alien ships use the fog to pass in the night undetected by the human eye. No one really knows what lies beyond. I feel dizzy. I think I’m overdosing. Too much jazz. TOO MUCH JAZZ.


I feel frantic. Breathe…

The world is turning now. There is no one here.
They’re coming. The ships are coming.

I need to call Dr. N.

(trumpet stops, bass starts)

My face is hot, whole body tingles. Feel euphoric. Try to breathe.
The sound bends time. Keep light in mind. And I’m the sober one.

Mainlining jazz. I feel dizzy. —

More often than not this happens when Gilbert plays. Spirit energy.


Cold. Now it’s cold. Why is it cold?! More flute. GO AWAY FLUTE!

Hard to breathe. In… Out…

© Michelle Routhieaux 2011