organized / chaos

i have to be really organized at times like this, when i'm super distract-able and find it hard to focus on one thing for two long. i tried typing five posts over the past few weeks, and none of them were ever finished. just drafts. if i finish this one, thank fuck because i won't ever really be sure how i did it.

the more chaotic my mind becomes, the easier it is to seem like i'm holding everything together, it seems. as long as i stay organized.

so i really can't understand why i decided to clean my room. and i don't mean shiatsu massage styled cleaning which is nice but isn't anything too intense, i mean a deep tissue massage kind of cleaning that gets into cracks and crevices i long forgot existed. i put my books back on the shelf; they were on the floor by my bed before, within reach. when i had time to read, this was perfect but now that i stumble into my house half asleep, tripping over my old friends feels more sacrilegious than anything else.  now they sit across from my bed, spines facing me. they're very lovely, all lined up like this. sadly, i barely put twenty percent of the books on my floor on the shelf. the rest are still on the floor.

then there's the books i decided to put in my closet. books i don't and probably won't read. books that if i really needed to read, i'd go get them. books that are taking up more space than i have. they're stacked up neatly though, alongside the boxes piled high full of my clothes. one box has clean shirts under sweaters under pants under wear-- under underwear, that is-- under a pillow that i switched with another pillow because it wasn't fluffy enough and turned my cloud nine dream-lands into dusty martian landscapes. (not that anything's wrong with mars, but i'm more in need of a few unicorns, fairies, and elves at the moment.) my guitar is leaning nearby, on the chair covered in papers that have no place in this room. and that's only a small portion of my floor.

my bed is clean, at least. warm, fuzzy, and cozy. just the way i like it. i know i have to clean before tuesday, because that's when i kidnap my boyfriend. tuesday or thursday mornings. then i bring him over and we sleep beside each other, wake up reasonably  happy in comparison to mondays, and then play video games until he has to go to work. but i can't have him coming over with my room like this. so... oh well. he'll live.

it's funny, to him. really. he finds my need for organization amusing. baby, no offense,  but i don't get people like you. i just stay relaxed. if i have to do something, i'll remember, and if i don't-- oh well. i'm not sure if he's just overly complacent, though. his memory is so bad that he really should be more organized. but that doesn't matter.

i think i'm really good at holding things together outside of my room but on the inside, it's all whirlygigs, whizzpoppers, bells and whistles. i'm not worried that anyone will figure that out, though, or see what's really going on.

i always keep my door locked.