bananaswim

[bananaswim]

levittown

i want to be a housewife. donning an apron in a freshly pressed dress, i would greet him every evening at 5:00 with a hot casserole and the table made. he would kiss me on the cheek and grab a beer from the fridge. we would talk about his day, i would speak when spoken to and tell him about the children’s day. our son scored a goal at soccer practice and our daughter perfected her piano piece during her private lesson. i’d pass my husband the green beans just before he tells me about the big promotion he got. later that night i would reward him on my knees in the bedroom, for a few moments. he would ask me if he could hit me as we made love, weeks later the striking would go from the bedroom to the kitchen, to anytime he saw me - and i would apologize, thank him for correcting my behavior. i would know nothing of finance, business, politics. my opinion wouldn’t matter anyways. rather, i would know how to remove every kind of stain from the carpet and the best soup to make for a cold. i would never have to say anything but “yes sir” or “thank you sir” - almost perfectly scripted for me. i wouldn’t be depressed, or anxious, because i wouldn’t know of any other possible way of life. blissfully, stupidly ignorant. 

until the picket fence is built,

cmg

[bananaswim]

harvest moon

i thought i would kick off october with a well thought out spell, willing my power into the universe. instead, i worked 6 hours and slept the second i got home. 

but when i woke up, i drove to the middle of the corn fields, right by the airport. the harvest moon - she’s so beautiful overhead. and maybe it was her, or maybe it was season of the witch blaring over my speakers in my parked car, but something came over me. the spirit of a witch. 

and i can honestly say, dancing amongst the half-harvested corn, in the freezing cold, on the dirt road with donovan ringing in my ears, i have never felt more alive. i have never felt more witch. 

i am powerful

i am ethereal

i am a witch

until the moon shines again,

cmg

[bananaswim]

heaven

heaven is the moments just before sleep. the feeling of first touches. the sky on the clearest nights. 

heaven is how he makes me feel; how i thought my abusers made me feel. 

heaven is the relief i felt when i thought i’d end it all. when i thought that night was my last, and i never had to deal with breathing - existing - again. 

hell is waking up and realizing i’m still here. 

i am in hell, longing to be dragged up to heaven by my throat. 

until i am saved,

cmg

[bananaswim]

self-love

tonight i went on a date.

she was kind. she likes her coffee with extra caramel drizzle. she spends a bit too long in the office supplies section at target, and she has to touch anything that looks soft in the clothing section. i wanted to buy her something sweet, and she insisted on honey-scented lotion. she drives with one hand on the wheel and the other out the window. she loves going into drugstores at night; “you can’t place the feeling of being in a walgreens when the sun goes down” she says. she took the long way home, just to listen to her favorite led zeppelin song. 

i don’t know if i love her, but i want to be gentle with her, and kind. and i hope to see her again. not just in passing in the mirror, but in the same way as tonight: for awhile. just us, comfortable in being alone. 

until the next one,

cmg

[bananaswim]

note to self

i know it’s hard, but remember how you felt, how you feel in the moments of writing this:

motivated, content, comfortable, goofy, creative, driven, at home. 

remember that there’s so much beyond the endless waves of sheets and blankets and the avalanche of pillows you’ve buried yourself in.

i know it’s hard, and my words are falling on deaf ears, but try. just try. i know - you know - that you can do it. you are so capable, and funny, creative, engaging, person; even if you don’t believe it right now.

there is nothing wrong with loving yourself.

there is nothing wrong with loving yourself.

be kind to yourself, and gentle. look in the mirror and see the young girl, full of imagination and life, and ask yourself if you’d treat her the same. 

until you feel you again, 

cmg

[bananaswim]

c.b.

i dreamt of an old friend last night; of the closure i wish i had gotten several years ago. even in an unconscious world, hugging him felt wonderful and right. i wish i could remember what we spoke about, but all i remember is the light in his eyes when he saw me and the smile on his face when he embraced me. even though i can’t tell him in person how i felt all the years we were friends, because that’s not the kind of friendship we had, i’m glad i could at least tell him in a deeper realm. i wish i studied dreams. perhaps he was there with me, just as excited as i was. maybe that was all the closure we needed - that i needed. 

a sweet dream of a sweet boy.

until the next sleep,

cmg

[bananaswim]

clay

i don’t know who i am. 

i don’t know what makes up my personality. i feel like a shapeshifter. my personality changes according to who i’m with. this goes beyond my family, friends, and workplace. my personality changes according to every single person i meet. i acclimate to the vibes they’re giving me, and try to match. maybe it comes from my fear of conflict, or maybe it comes from my need to be liked. but i don’t even know who i am by myself. i feel like i’m empty and almost nonexistent until someone engages with me. i feel like everyone’s opinions and expectations of me are not set to who i really am, but i’m not even sure who that would be. impostor syndrome of a person who may or may not exist.

 i hope to someday meet myself.

until then,

cmg

[bananaswim]

an introduction

hello, my name is ciara.

i am 20 years old, she/her, and just looking for somewhere to empty my head when it feels too empty.

to be honest, i don’t really have friends. so i suppose an empty blog created for no one will have to do. at least my thoughts are out. at least if someone wanted to know, they could.

there isn’t much to know about me. i’m in college, although i’m very behind the “normal” timeline for someone my age. i really love writing, reading, creating. although i don’t do much of anything besides working and sleeping nowadays, but i’m slowly trying to get back into the rhythm of my old self again. 

i’m the kind of person that constantly wants to destroy and recreate. if i could restart my life every single day, i would. i always want to reinvent who i am, and how i’m perceived. but that’s a completely different rant.

if someone does read this, i hope you can relate and feel a bit closer to someone, even if neither of us knows the other exists. 

until next time,

cmg