Monday, January 22, 2007

Whether Pigs Have Wings

Philosophical Cornerstones
All things considered, this is a really bad time for my own brain to be screwing with me. I can handle my boss screwing with me, I can handle my teachers screwing with me, I can handle my friends screwing with me. I don't know if I can handle my own brain screwing with me. I'm used to being practical-joked from external sources, but I'm not so used to being practical-joked from inside my own head.

Maybe it's not a joke.
This is a bad time for my philosophical cornerstones to get moved around. A really bad time.

Fact is, I haven't pictured myself being that way in the future for a very long time. When I was little, sure, but lately, I've been decidedly of the mind that domesticity really isn't my bag. Except all of a sudden I changed my mind. Not a total 180... not yet at least, but a distinct change in mindset. All of a sudden, this idea I've been thinking just wasn't me feels ridiculously... right. I don't know why, and I'm not sure if this is a change for the better or not. I just don't know.

I don't know. I hate not knowing. I'm a planner, I need plans, even if they're only written in sand next to an ocean. The problem with this being that life doesn't adapt well to plans. Which is why I was planning to not need plans... if that makes sense, which it probably doesn't.

L'Ange
Good luck. Good luck. Good luck. I hope the box had good news in it. You've been so good to me, I need to believe that all that good karma will be rewarded. I think you could handle even the bad news, but I don't want you to have to. Good luck. Good luck. Good luck.

Everything's about to flip. I can't say I'm not glad... it'll take one of the loads off my mind. Just one week left.

Anyways, keep dreaming.
Daydream Believer

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Crescendo

Miserere Mei
It's over, and it sucked. I wanted you there, but as the evening progressed, I came to the realization that I didn't want you to see me like that. You've seen a few bad moments, but I don't want you to see them all. I don't want to be your charity case, I don't want to become a string of bad moments linked together only with tears. That was a bad moment you were better off not seeing.

Bear
You might wonder why I never told you to stop, that you should stop, that you had to stop. It's not because I don't want you to. It's not because I don't care, it's not because I think it's OK. It's not. I'd like to say I understand, I know what you go though, but I can't, because I don't. I've never said anything because I don't want to be a hypocrite. Nor do I want to sound like a broken record. At this point you may ask if this is an experience we've both had. It isn't. Not that I never wanted to, not that I never felt that push. Understand, I'm not trying to lord it over you, "I was strong while you succumbed to temptation." That's not it at all. I was just always too much of a chickenshit.

SS
I don't want you to worry about me. I've told you a lot of my worries, and I don't want you to worry that they're slowly killing me. They're not, they're just nagging like the mother of a teenager. The thing is, when I'm with you, they evaporate. No, not even evaporate, just disappear completely. I just feel like nothing else matters, I can just let everything else drop. Sometimes that's a good thing, sometimes it scares the living shit out of me, to be honest. I've always been one of those "empowered" people, you know, live your own life, don't screw with your dreams just because somebody else is suddenly in the picture. That kind. Well, the scary bit is, all of a sudden, all those things I've been thinking about just don't seem so important anymore. And I know it's not smart, and I know it makes me a terrible feminist, but it's true. On the one hand, my head is shouting at me to get a grip on myself, on the other hand, my head is saying, "well, maybe this isn't as bad as I previously thought it would be." The reason I didn't tell you this sooner? I don't want you to worry about me. This isn't a worry, it's just something I have to sort out.

Hallelujah
Walking the line between elation and desperation, something I haven't experienced in awhile. Usually, though, both come from the same source. In this case, on the short term, everything's fabulous, but the long-term is screwing me over. Like, I'm-up-shit-creek-without-a-paddle-in-a-chicken-wire-canoe screwing me over. If you haven't heard me rant, rave, or cry about this yet, consider yourself lucky, but your odds of remaining that way are slim.

Alright, I've got stuff to accomplish in the next little while. If I snap, scream, rant, rave, cry, or have a nervous breakdown, don't panic, just stop time for a few days while I get my bearings. This'll all work out somehow. I have to believe that.

Daydream Believer

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Why The Sea is Boiling Hot

3 Months
About two and a half months ago, someone said to me, "I envy you, you're at such a nice stage where everything's rainbows and butterflies, and you don't have to deal with the real world." Well, the real world has caught up to me, as it always does. I'm not doing it on purpose, but I'm creating this distance, and it's glaringly obvious.
"I never want you to feel obligated to see me."
There's words I dind't think I'd be hearing for awhile. I hate that this hurts more than if you screamed and yelled and ranted and raved. It hurts more than if you'd slapped me. This is real hurt. This is something I'd give anything to make go away. That I hurt this much lets me know without a shadow of a doubt how much I care. But I can't make you understand it, because all I can say is "I'm sorry." And that's just not enough.

Circles
I'm probably too quick to trust. Everything in this life changes, and me along with it. I move, grow toward, grow apart, then move again. I don't know how to stop it. I guess I've always just had itchy feet. I hate the word best. There are no bests in my world, just the way time shifts things, and the way we do. I can't say that word, best, as it relates to you and me, because that's not the terms I think of this in. I do trust you, as much as I trust anyone else, more than most. I guess the problem is that I want so badly to be anyone someone needs to anyone who needs someone, and it just can't happen that way. Because more than actually needing other people, I find I need to be needed. Not to say that I don't need others too, because I do. It's hard to explain properly. But I have a feeling you'll know what I mean, because that's something you do very well, figure out what I mean from a blush and a stammer. I can't use the word best, but as far as I'm concerned, it's just a different word. If you want to use the word best, be my guest. I'm not scared.

FWF
This is beginning to look more and more like my favourite mistake. The major similarities? I hate how every time I talk to you, I feel like there's something been left unsaid. I hate that I can have a fantastic conversation with you, or a terrible one, but either way, I don't want to see you go. I hate how we grew apart so fast, and I hate myself for selfishly wanting you to need me. A friendship can't be based on a single night, or even a few nights, and I should really try harder to remember that. The number 1 major similarity: This isn't your fault, it's mine.

So yeah, today was a resounding failure, and I very much wish I could take it all back and redo it, but the world doesn't have an undo button. Even if it did, I'm sure it would be so abused and in such disrepair that it just wouldn't work.

I think I may need more ice cream...

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer