Sleepy Jean

Gypsy soul? Check. Someone to rock it? erm...
More than you bargained for? Check. Someone to tell everything they want to hear? not really...
Sense of adventure? Check. Someone to hit the road with? well...
Dancing like a fool? Check. Someone to dance with me? erm...
Rock n roll heart? Check. Someone to promise the world to? you see...
Daydream Believer? Check. Homecoming queen? not so much...
Loving rock and roll? Check. Someone to say, "Can I take you home?" Disco.

Me being able to say, "That was fun, we should do that again sometime." No dice. I really should remember that thing I'm always telling Loud. KISS. Keep it simple, stupid. That was all I had to say. Instead, I asked if we were going to address the elephant in the room or if we were going to shove it into a corner. Oops. Apparently addressing the elephant in the room was not the best plan. I'm concerned that certain things, although being perfectly clear in my head, didn't quite get across. I'm trying really hard not to think all those unpleasant things I wrote about before. It's not good for me. I'm trying, once again, to be philosophical. He doesn't know what he's missing and all that. Going out on the town with Bear didn't necessarily help. I don't blame her, I really don't. It's the pheromones, I swear. She's not doing it on purpose, but it still hurts. I can't blame them. Here, at least, there's a clear answer. Novelty value.

Sometimes I get shiny mad sad. It can be easier to hide than when I'm just plain old sad. This is the kind of mood I get into when I can't decide whether I'm the enemy or not. My world turns black and white. Us against them. I just have to figure out whether I'm included in "us" or not. I adopt the fierce, twisted glee of a soldier. A little feeling of Kamikaze and a need to go down kicking and screaming. Because I always feel like I'm going down with the ship.

I remember longing for numbness. Wishing to shut down so that it would all go away. I try not to feel that way anymore, I try to find reasons to invest, things to hold onto. And then when they go awry I'm left with the pain that made me want to go numb in the first place.

So what's it gonna take, silver shadow believer?

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Buttercup

I don't know why it takes so much less effort to break me down than it does to build me up. One comment, probably a joke, about my company making him sick, and all of a sudden it doesn't seem like we can get along after all. Maybe he should have thought of that before... well, before. Sooner or later I'm likely to actually hit him. I've already started the verbal assault. I've already taken one low blow. I doubt I'll ever land the one that could drop him to the floor. The one that's a little kamikaze, because it would drop me too. Let everyone know what I'm capable of.

Why is it that while I have no problem logically dealing with the way people are on a large scale, once you get to the small scale, the microhumanity, I have a seemingly endless supply of good will and benefit of the doubt. I know that people aren't the way I wish they were, I know communism or anarchy won't work because people mostly suck. So why is it that I can still with complete confidence pin huge amounts of emotional capital on people being the way I wish they could be on the small scale? Possible theories include being an overly optimistic nut, being too stupid for my own good, not being able to learn my lesson, or some combination of the previous possibilities.

Dreaming of amazing wonderful people.
Daydream Believer

Chomp the Spy

I didn't mean to read it, honest. But there they were, the words from the deep dark place, laid out in blue ink on paper. It gave me a good shake, enough to make my lips come loose and confess my fears. Sooner or later the smoke cleared. Cleverer and callous, once everything seemed sorted suddenly it all went sordid didn't you hear?
I would be the worst of liars if I said I wasn't concerned. I am. But for a change I'm not sure why. As usual, I don't know what I want. There's some spite there that I'm not quite sure what I want to do about. It would be nice to get a couple of choice words in, but now that things are heading in a square-one-wardly direction, I'm not sure I mean them anymore. If I ever meant them in the first place. Now that chomp the spy is cleared out, who knows what's next. I can't believe it was a coincidence, the timing was just too clean-cut. But there could be a number of reasons for that. Most of them having to do with power. That moment of what if isn't this interesting testing the water waiting wishing wondering daring challenge me again. Another game. Do I want to play? Are the takes going to be the same as last time? If it's just another instant replay, I'll pass. But if we are a little older and wiser, smarter and tougher, and more mature to boot, this could just be a very pleasant game. There's precedent.
Once burned...
Daydream Believer

Out Of Step While They All Get In Line

She's baaaaaaack. Ladies and gentlemen this is how it starts. A little eyeliner, some music from a byegone age, and I'm back in the darkest moments of my life. It's in the past for a reason. It's easier to be angry than hurt. It's easy to scream along with the music and hide behind thick makeup and a baleful stare. I'm going nowhere fast that's what they say. But it's been an awfully long time since someone said that about me. There's a little bit more breadth here now, more than just the thinly veiled pain disguised as anger. I'm so much stronger now than I was. Then, I was exactly as strong as I had to be. Now, the blows are a little heavier now. Pain is fleeting, blows are glancing, when you're dancing through life. I might take that advice, if I could, if I knew how. Hopefully tomorrow's train will stay on the rails, even if I've been a little derailed lately. She knew what you were thinking before you thought it... and that's a good thing? When you do it to me, it leaves me feeling stupid. You leave me feeling stupid a lot. You bastard. It's the wrongs that make the words come to life. It's always cloudy except for when you look into the past. Sometimes even then. Why? Why? Why? According to the rule of three, this is where the resolution happens. Bullshit. Get me out of my mind. Don't let me get me. Come fly with me, let's go real high. Pull me down hard. Don't push me. Don't fuck with me. Drowning's an awful way to go. If it's not worth it, why bother? If it's worth doing, there's some meaning in it. Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone, or does it? You say it's wrong but it's right for me. Is it? Am I doing the right thing here? Shouldn't I know? And the reason that she loved him is the reason I loved him too. Put out the fire and don't look past my shoulder. Nothing's as real as our old reckless ways. Was I ever reckless? Did I ever really want to be? Definitely wanted to be. Did it ever happen? The things I thought I'd do. And you know none of them would ever have the strength. Keeping up. Keep on keeping on. If it doesn't hurt it's not worth doing. Admit. Admission. Let someone in. Letting someone in. Find out games you don't wanna play. Just another regret. No regrets. Wasn't that what this was supposed to be about? Who has to know? Those thoughts I can't deny. No more Nile. What a pretty poison, what a lovely lie. Like a hole in the head, I know that I'll soon be better off. Come on, roll me over Romeo. Is this as good as it gets? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Like a needle in a haystack. Listen to your lies. Put on your pretty lies. I feel like a monster. Me myself and I. Let's hash it out. Set her free. A strange duet, your power can go fuck itself. I can handle it. Brave like soldiers. A woman who acts like a man. I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now. Call on me. Stand by me. Twenty fucking five to one, my gambling days are done. Looks like the holy ghost is gone. I'll wait till you fall from grace. It's not like you to say sorry. But then again I don't really know. Are we having fun yet? Fun, that's what this was supposed to be. I dreamed that I knew the secret code. Your face betrays you. That'll be the day that I die. This'll be the day that I die. Drinking whiskey and rye. Back when we mattered. Fueling up on whiskey. I wonder if I'll ever change my ways. Or if I need to. I'm not giving up. I'm not slacking off or backing out or cracking up. Or backing down. I won't back down. This is how I'm supposed to be. Tell me, who should I be? You know you're not the only one. All our lives, we've been waiting. Once a good girl goes bad. Is she ever coming back? She's never coming home. They won't make it home and they really don't care. You better go, you know the fire's out anyway. Another dance another way another chance, another day. I don't know what I've done, or if I like what I've become. I'm my own worst enemy. You can't hurt me, you don't need to. I do it well enough myself. All I know is that I should. So what if it's Californication. I am just as torn inside. It's true, we're all a little insane, but it's so clear now that I'm unchained. I thought by now you'd realize, honey you can't hide your lyin eyes. My morals got me on my knees, I'm begging please. I'm under your spell. Mercy. What'll you do when you get lonely? You been running and hiding much too long. I was only having fun, wasn't hurting anyone. Except myself, but that's nothing new. So you say that only proves that I'm insane. Don't try to save me. Stop me. Keep me here. That's great, it starts with an earthquake. It's my responsibility, you owe nothing to me. You promised me nothing. It was just my imagination running away with me. I took your words and I believed. Out, damn spot. I'm trying to wash it away, but it's all over me in marker. I am so high I can hear heaven, but heaven don't hear me. You could have offered me some dignity. Choose the devil you know or the devil you don't, their horns are the same colour. This truth is stranger than fiction. Don't file me under categories, you're deceived. Genius is in the mistakes. Preaching the gospel according to Johnnie Walker Red. I tell myself I'm gonna be alright, but it's still not clear. What follows. Too young to die and too old to believe in promises. Maybe not too old. Trust me, trust you. How can I trust you, I know you. Now I know what you are. What you do. What you do to me. I know by the look that I see in your eye. Why does this happen to me? Hard to believe that it's not over tonight. Who is the monster and who is the man? I'm open, you're closed. You bleed just to know you're alive. Shouldn't let you conquer me completely. Don't want to forget how it feels without. You can't talk to a man when he don't want to understand. I want to understand and you won't let me. You don't want me, which is more than your right, but couldn't you have figured that out a little earlier? This world if you let it will drive you into the ground. They'll hurt you and desert you, and take your soul if you let them. Break me. Take me over. I'm all shook up. Is it worth the pain with no one to blame. I'm waking up to say I tried instead of waking up to another TV guide. The shit I hear you say just blows my mind. Never seen a sky so blue. Lost like I could not be found. I must be out of my head. I hate everything about you, most of all what you make me feel. Are you aware of what you make me feel? I need to break free from your lies, you're so self-satisfied. If I could make you believe. I'm not kind if you betray me. Gonna be okay. Got to be a joker he just do what he please. We all wanna change the world. I thought I chose the surest road, but that road led me here. You'll never know the way your words have haunted me. I don't fit into this world. I hope that doesn't sound too weird. I try to believe you, but I don't. Tomorrow's a different day. I don't know who you think I am. And for some reason, it matters. We know the game, we played it, and now you want to cry uncle. I'll pay for my sins, the heartache begins. Drinking wine and thinking bliss is on the other side of this. I've felt that fire oh and I've been burned, but I wouldn't trade the pain for what I've learned. Would I? It really makes me wonder if I ever gave a fuck about you. That's a lie. Bloodshot eyes. It felt good to be bad, and was it worth the aftermath? Only time will tell. These changes ain't changing me. This was never the way I planned, not my intention. Dutch courage. Half-finished bottles of inspiration. Curiosity killed the cat. Tell me what I'll never be, make me feel broken. I don't feel like I am strong enough. Are you strong enough? I quit crying long enough. Motivate me, captivate me, I wanna get your face out of my head. Whisper what it is you want. Go on. Go on. Gone going everything gone give a damn. Make up your mind or I will. Walking to the beat of another drummer. Another fucking musician. I'm wishing my life away with these things I'll never say. Now here we are, and I'm suddenly standing at the beginning with you.
I beg to dream and differ.

Daydream Believer

Grip

What you don't have you don't need it now,
what you don't know you can feel somehow.

I found her. I realized I found her yesterday. That lady, that someone dark and delicious and lit from within. That person that I sometimes forget is always there. She's choosy, sometimes hard to find. It takes a lot to get her out sometimes. I have needed a lot of things from a lot of people for a lot of different reasons in the past. I reread the letter you wrote me. Kept in the same folder with bank statements, pay stubs, all my important documents, to remind me that I'm more than a pile of numbers and plastic cards. To remind me to work on being as amazing as someone thinks I am.

My world's on fire, how 'bout yours?
That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored.

Good deeds. Kind words. Closed eyes and clenched fists. The lies are tempting. A siren song of finding the understanding I so crave. But am I the one to do it? I try to ignore the scraping scratching skittering chewing gnawing that threatens me with sleeplessness. That was a tangent. Is honesty something I'm willing to deceive for? I could do it, mention the schedule, the timing, press my lips into the fine line that tells everyone I'm about to crack, stare into his eyes and let the pain and anger he caused me show, letting him take it for fear and apprehension. Lie. I could. Let him sweat, watch him squirm. Find out if the whole thing feels a little familiar to him. And then... what? Reveal the truth? I'm not sure there are enough tums in the world. I want to though. Close to compulsion at this point, I want to know what happens. Mostly, yes, I regret the risks I didn't take, but I'm not sure where the ripples of this one will break, and I'm not sure I want to bring that in.

I won't keep this secret any longer. I liked it for a time, but its time has passed. I suddenly doubt the sheep will judge. Because I'm no longer ashamed. I made my choices, and, let's face it, I wanted to do it. Perhaps honesty would have been better all along. Shoulda woulda coulda. But I'm okay. And not just because of someone's excellent advice, along the smile at your enemies because it drives them nuts line. I want to believe he didn't want to hurt me. I really do. But I also want to believe that I wasn't invested enough to be hurt, and you can see how well that worked out. I'm not sure whether the intent or the result is the important part. I do know I'm okay. I know I haven't been crippled. I want to talk, but I've already confessed enough. Knowledge is power, and he already has too much of it over me.

Pain is fleeting,
Blows are glancing,
When you're dancing
Through life.

I danced. I thrashed around like a maniac and nobody even looked at me sideways. Well, there were a couple of long-haired, bare-chested boys looking at me sideways, but not because I was dancing like a maniac. I love clubs like that. I drank, I danced. I did what I wanted to and I didn't feel guilty about it at all. I crave complications and seek them out, but sometimes it just has to be simple. Two days later, I look for the complications. I wonder about occupations, I question if I should have done things a little differently. But I had a good night, a night that soothed a part of me I hadn't realized had gone raw. Fortunately I craved the right kind of relief without realizing why. I'll give you a good cuddle.

He wants to talk. He wasn't any use when I needed to talk to him though. Really, I shouldn't have been surprised, since I was the one who did it. I was the one who hurt him, so it shouldn't have surprised me that he stopped being there when I needed him after I pushed him away.

Just a city boy,
Born and raised in South Detroit.

Age is a funny thing. I remember thinking how old they seemed. How wise. How distant and unconnected from me. I remember thinking I couldn't possibly relate, couldn't possibly understand. One more 'so why don't you have a boyfriend?' and I was going to lose it. Now I look at the year in her birthday, and it's one later than his. She's a year younger, this woman who was so much a woman when I was still such a child. This woman who couldn't possibly relate to me, she was simply too old. And he's older than her. It makes me wonder about the perceptions we have of age, the hangups. Old souls.

I'm here. I have this project to work on. I'm not quite sure how to deal with the actual doing bit, but I have the ideas. My nationality is my definition at the moment, and I plan to embrace it. Confessional, performing the wound, two, two, two things in one. I'm thinking of the woman with the once-profound ideas again.

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

Dirty Little Secret

I got home just a few moments ago. Just after half past two in the morning, totally sober. I'm on a little hiatus for the moment, hoping that my favourite form of toxin will regain its power.

So it wasn't the quiet, relaxed, even intimate evening in I had been planning on. It was probably just as well. That's the great thing about shows on DVD, you can watch them another time. Haven't picked up my fiver yet, and though it's gone to double or nothing now, I'm not sure it's a fair contest anymore. Is it bad if I kind of want to lose this bet?

It's all about the little moments. Most of the time, I just want to go back to those moments of excitement and intrigue, and in the pursuit of them, I find more moments, until I wind up sitting confused and alone trying to rationalize actions, both my own and those of others. This is the problem with not knowing anyone very well.

If it wasn't crazy, I'd be bored. I prefer the craziness, as much as I might bitch and complain. I think I have a balance for a moment or two.

And I'm only 16000 words away from December.

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

101 Dalmations

Well, colour me a little sheepish. I meant to do something big, important, special (relatively speaking of course, I have it on decent account that there are only about two people who still read this) for my 100th post. It seemed like an important milestone, one deserving commemoration. Then I checked the handy dashboard button that lets me see how many posts I've actually published, rather than just all the ones I started and let auto-save, many of them blank pages, and discovered that I'm actually past that delightful milestone. Tarnation! Here I was hoping to take the chance to reflect upon how much has changed in one hundred posts, spanning three of the more interesting and tumultuous years of my life. Oh well, knowing myself, I probably would never have gotten anything on the page, I'd be too concerned about being profound and reflective, and generating something for posterity. I love to look at those beautiful notebooks they sell in the classy bookstores with the five-dollar-a-pop coffee shops in them. You know, the ones with artistic designs on magnetically or elastic closing covers and pages that are some interesting shade of off-white, maybe boasting of their composition, recycled organic acid-free paper, or just plain pretty to look at. I never buy them because I know I won't write in them. I always feel like nothing I can write can do the book justice, like it's so beautiful it has to have profound things written in it. The right message for the medium. No, it doesn't help to know that somebody else is going to buy that notebook and use it for shopping lists. But now I feel almost in the right state of mind. I worked 8 hours and meant to go to sleep when I got home, but it's been a couple of hours since then. Long enough that the tea I made is cold. Well, tried to make. Silly me, I followed the directions on the package and am left with a veritable boat (because of course when you screw something up it's never the time you're making a reasonable portion) of lukewarm milk which, while providing all the aroma of a cup of Chai, has nearly none of the expected taste. So while I'm waiting for that to disappear, and the overnight (read: will hopefully put me to sleep) sinus medicine to kick in, I suppose I'll keep tapping away on this keyboard and see where I end up.

I made a long-distance, pond-hopping phone call today. At first, it was rather panicked. The voice on the other end, however, reassured me that my plans hadn't just come to a grinding halt as a result of a minor postal delay. The first thing I felt was relief, and then, for a moment before getting once again swept up into the whirlwind of that which must be accomplished before Monday, I considered that for the duration of this next chapter, nearly every voice I hear is going to sound like that. That accent is going to permeate my consciousness. The language will be almost the same. And I've been told that that can be the worst part.

Ace isn't sleeping again, we stay up talking and it's good to touch base again, to have another contact point with the outside world, so to speak. He helps remind me that there are an awful lot of things going on out there, and sometimes I think he does it by reflecting back to me some of those qualities I wish I could purge myself of. He can be abrasive and hard to deal with, but I grit my teeth and manage because he also reflects back to me some of my favourite qualities, and I keep hoping that exposure will make them stronger.

I wonder if the refresh button gets sore when I press it this many times. I'd stop if it would just show me what I want to see. Time marches on, and soon I'll have to call it a night, but I keep hoping.

The tune is the same, change the faces and names.

I can't help the way I feel, which right now is totally reckless, ass-over-teakettle hoping with every fibre of my being that this will work. It wasn't like this before, I know what I said, what I had to say, to protect the both of us. Now it's different. People change, nobody knows that better than me. Once again my practicality takes over, only this time I don't want it to. Love isn't all you need. Love can't pay the bills. Even though this is as grown up as it's ever been, is it really grown up enough? I don't know how to make this real. I just feel it. I can't explain why it's different, why the words I said before are really true now, why you should trust that it won't end up the same. I don't know. I don't even know if you should. But I do know that if it doesn't work out that way, that you won't miss me. You'll find someone who really is what I try sometimes to be.
Because. Maybe this is that feeling they were talking about, that magical, elusive "you just know".

I think the medicine's starting to kick in. My sinuses don't feel any better, but my limbs feel a little leaden.
Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

Grow Your Own Dope- Plant a Man!

Funny that I never really believed him until now. You're beautiful. It's just one of those things guys say to girls whose beds they're trying to get into. Now that he isn't anymore, or maybe he is, who could say, I do. I believe it because I've seen it with my own two eyes. I didn't believe her when she said it either, just something friends say to other friends to make them smile. I never thought about how every time I'd ever said it, it had been absolutely true. That's only just occured to me now. Regardless, it's not something you can believe through proof you can see, you just have to feel it, and right now, I do. "I hope he tells you you're beautiful, babe, because you never seem to believe it when I do." Beauty is not in the eye of the beholder, but the mind of the beheld. Thank you.

The makeup and jewelry are more like a shield than an adornment today. The shield I keep telling myself I don't need. It's really a confidence thing. A friend once put it very simply for me, "Eyeliner equals confidence." I can't be afraid anymore. I've been seeing a lot of the clear light of morning lately, from both sides. I think maybe that's when I do my best thinking. I wonder if I'll still think getting up before seven was a good idea at midnight.

Oh, I managed to cross one off the list.

Forewarned is forearmed. I'm definitely armed. Hopefully I won't need to be. I seek no enemies. Occasionally they fall into my lap. Hopefully I'll run into the good one today, and this will be a moot point. Or it'll be worse. I'll let you know how it shakes out.

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

Summer Sunshine

And the scary thing is, I think I'm okay. My usual gnawing worries have been drastically reduced, and most of the temporary concerns are alleviated. It could just be the drugs, but I'm feeling pretty good right now. My most concerning worries are behind me, and now I can focus on what's ahead of me.

Still working on that whole "no more beige" thing, but making progress. Still working on going after what I want, which is so much easier knowing I can have it. Maybe. On that note, I have to work on suppressing that ugly green thing that likes to rear its head at any and all mention of her name. It doesn't have to be him, it might be, but could easily be someone else.

I finally have so much that I want. Freedom, opportunity. And I'm happy this way. I finally feel like I can.

I'm pretty sure it was a Red Hot Chili Peppers song, and I don't remember the exact lyrics, but they were something like I could take you away and then everything would be great. Everything seems profound and memorable at 4 am.

Heavily drugged and very mellow,
Daydream Believer

Beige

I have spent a lot of time being beige. Nondescript, goes with everything, nothing really flashy to it, you can't have too much or you'll die of ennui. I'm not a lot less beige now than I was then, I can name three different people in the last two years who have had to be introduced to me anywhere from four to nine times before it stuck. Not randoms, people I interacted with anywhere from once to five or six times a week for three months at a time, and it wasn't like they were drunk the first few times either.

The thing is, I'm not all that beige on the inside. Unfortunately on the outside, at first glance, I am. Even more unfortunately, our kindergarten teachers were lying to us, because it does matter what we look like, what we sound like, our appearances, the impressions we give. I suppose I should say me, since it is conceivable that nobody else got this crock from their kindergarten teachers, or that they simply didn't believe them. My disillusionment aside, I'm really not all that beige. There's all kinds of interesting stuff going on, but it's not on the surface, you have to be looking for it.

This is what I get for walking the lines. The line between extraversion and introspection. I take my energy from people, but I love to hide out somewhere inside myself and just think. The line between selling out and buying in. The line between being what and who I want to be and what and who I have to be. Instead of keeping to the razor-sharp edges of liminality, the boundaries all went blurry.

The problem with education is that it's about answers, even though learning is about questions.

I'm not as beige as I once was. Maybe I'm turning a little dusty rose, a touch of periwinkle. Maybe a lovely cafe latte shade.

I hope to get less beige in the future. Rather, I hope to appear less beige. To act less beige, to speak less beige.

Still Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Friends With Complications

Her: "So, uh, are you two, uh...?"
Me: Nervous laughter
Him: Nervous laughter
Me: "No, we're, uh, friends..."
Her: Raised eyebrows "With benefits?"
Him: "Um..."
Me: "More like complications."

An old conversation. Out of date by several months. but leave it to me to remember the random things, some good memories, some bad, a few regrets wrapped up in the scent of Old Spice and Irish Spring, flowers, swamp goo, and the not-quite-clean of a boy/man's apartment. We had our share of complications, mostly my fault, but I asked the questions and he answered honestly. It wasn't really his fault, although I blame him for it sometimes. A lot of the time. I wished for him to do things, say things, and now I wish I could remember them, so I could do them or say them, to make this better. But I can't. "Why do you have to be so attractive?" If I only had a nickel for every time I said that to someone. Right along with "What does she have that I don't?" and the inevitable answer of "tits". But in all seriousness, powerlessness just sucks, in all its forms, no matter which side of the equation you're on. Which kinda makes me wonder where the power in these situations is. I was so sure he had it, but now in a different position, maybe I was wrong about that. Maybe I was wrong about a lot. I guess it's complicated.

I'm surprised I'm not grinning like an idiot. I love hearing that people think well of me. No surprise, who doesn't? But it's best when it's completely brutally honest, and still favourable. I like to hear the brutally honest, no-holds-barred, I-swear-I-didn't-know-you-were-listening opinions people have of me. It's probably narcissistic, and it's probably not very good for me, especially because it's not always a glowing review. But I can't help it, something in me wants to know how I appear to the outside world, because everything looks different depending on the eyes you're using. And every now and then, what people think of you has an effect. Sometimes you can teach yourself to see what they see.
I love the sound of the words she wrote as they roll around in my skull, staving off, at least for a couple of hours, that irritating voice full of derision and foul mood. Lit from within, all red lipstick and dark eyes, young and powerful, something dark, delicious, and alive.

I can't shake the guilt though. I'm not mad, not at her, though I don't think she believes it. It's the guilt that was bound to come back ever since I said "I wish I was a little more like him". Well, now I am a little bit, and I wish I wasn't. He revels in this, having the means to manipulate, to hurt. I just want to make all the hurt go away, and I don't know how.

The older I get, the shakier the foundations of my friendships seem, the old as well as the new. My closest oldest friend I didn't meet all that long ago. Next on the list is the one who I can barely quantify any more, all magnetism, memories, and Irish Spring. Most of the rest don't even seem like my friends, more like friends once removed, I wonder how many of them would still be around if I wasn't around him. I've never had good luck with making friends, I'm a little on the beige side, people don't tend to remember me. At least as far as I know. Every now and then the tables turn, the tide shifts, and I get to deal with the fallout. Sometimes it's more fun than others. Sometimes complications are my only real friends.

Maybe I can widen that circle a little bit.
Dream On
Daydream Believer

The Dirty Rascal

Here I am, back in the castle once again. For the second time in a seven day period. I don't resent it as much as I used to. It feels a little less like a prison, a little more like a palace right now. Especially after the massive disruption and its aftermath. I feel a little more grounded now, a little saner. Or a little less sane, and just more accepting of it. I'm not sure exactly.

"No one can hear you scream"
Frightening words, the mainstay of a certain genre of terrifying films. But sometimes they're not scary, and that can be even more terrifying.

It's too easy to blame someone else. It's also too easy to blame yourself. It's not just you, or them, it's a whole pile of different things bouncing around and off each other.

Strange that we reconnected over you telling me I was in over my head, Red. That I'd get hurt. I should have known you were right, at least in part. Sometimes I'm too optimistic for my own good. But now it's not the same. Why is it that while the tricycle seems so steady, the four-wheeler seems so unbalanced? I miss the bike. I miss you.

Why is it so much easier to say, "I hate you" than "I love you"? It's funny that there's no shame, no stigma associated with hating someone, yet there is with loving someone. It's an easy way to sprain your dignity. I guess it's because someone you hate can't hurt you, not really. Not the same way. It's like being a turtle. Loving someone is flipping yourself (or getting flipped) onto your back. Even if they're not trying, the smallest hurt will do the maximum damage. Might kill you.

Take care what you ask of me, 'cause I can't say no.

I won't be held down by who I used to be.

Everybody's waiting for the hammer to fall.

Too young to die, and too old to believe in promises.

I hate the way you look at me, as if I was broken.

In spite of it all, I feel pretty good. Something about a brand-new bird's eye view kinda makes everything seem a little less epic. A little easier to handle.

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

Wonder

I'm getting sick of wondering. I want to stop thinking, "Is this how it's supposed to be?" I need to learn it doesn't matter how it's supposed to be, because that has no effect on how it is. And as long as how it is is how I want it, I'm in a good place.

That said, I still want to know things. I want to know why after barely talking for nearly two years all of a sudden not talking to someone for two days makes me feel like I've hardly got a grip on the world anymore. All so I can lie. Why I have to keep reminding myself that it was his idea, what he wanted. Why that matters, and why I forget it. Why I made this my problem. Why I don't crave the kiss I should. Why I still crave the kiss I shouldn't. Why I felt so liberated in the knowledge that someone who claims my friendship will hurt me so willingly, again and again, and I can't change it at all. Why I sat down at my computer nearly every day since my last blog post trying to write another one and haven't succeeded yet. Why words echo in my head until I can barely remember the voice that goes with them. Why I freaked out at an oddly familiar whiff of cologne. Why I don't feel any different. Why I don't know if I want to.

But then again, maybe I'm afraid to really ask.

Maybe I'm progressing, and the reason I suddenly don't want what I have is something like why while it's the only fit food for a teething toddler, you'd be hard pressed to find an adult who wanted to eat puréed jarred baby food. The same way I realized I'd moved on from what I wanted less than a year ago, and got a few months later. Maybe I'm just always after the chase.

Ever get caught in a daydream? Someone asks you for something, and you realize that you were a million miles away. Sometimes a little less than that in physical distance. It takes a moment to get your bearings, and you can't go back quite the same way, even though you might try.

I wrote this awhile ago, never actually posted it and I'm not sure why. I just don't remember. So I'm giving it the light of cyberspace, and let's see what happens.

Break in, break up,
Break out, break down.
Fade in, fade out,
Watch it fade away.

Fall in, fall out,
Fall down, fuck up.
Fear, freedom,
Fly away.

Run out, run in,
Run for it, run away.
Make a bet, take a chance,
Screw the rules, play.

Roxanne never put the dress on,
Cecilia won't come back.
Beth's getting sick of waiting around,
And Lucy fell out of the sky.

Dani California grew up rich,
Chantilly Lace wouldn't show her face.
And now Mustang Sally's got a ticket to ride.


Lost in a dream,
Daydream Believer

To Sweet Beginnings...

It's right, in a lot of ways, that I spent New Years Eve with Gold, with Loud, and with Sphinx. The year has come full circle, and aside from being a lot of fun, the evening felt full of poetic justice and the tying of loose ends... or the dripping of wax onto already-tied knots, in some cases.

All lives are made in these small hours,
These little wonders,
These twisting turns of fate.
Time falls away, but these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

The girl who attended last years' party at Loud's would have been completely confused, befuddled, and more than a little distressed by the current state of events, and guess what? I'm not. Because I'm not her, and probably never will be her again. (Side note, brilliant book about identity: The Third Woman, by Mark Burnell, but it won't make much sense without reading the first three, The Rhythm Section, Chameleon, and Gemini, but they also deal with identity, so it still works.) And guess what? I'm okay with that, despite feeling no particular animosity towards her. And that, my friends, is this year's big step, not feeling animosity towards who I have been while pursuing who I will be, and at the same time not ignoring who I am at the moment.

To sweet beginnings and bitter endings,
In coffee city, we borrowed heaven,
Don't give it back, winter is coming,
And I need to stay warm.

Anyways, I'm looking down the barrel of a cannon full of possibilities, which makes me happy, since none of them look really unfriendly. While it'sgood to be home, I'll be glad to be back South.

We found a map to buried treasure,
And even if we come home empty handed,
We'll still have our stories, battle scars,
Pirate ships and wounded hearts,
Broken bones, and all the best of friendships.
And when this hourglass
Has filtered out its final grain of sand,
I'll raise my glass to the memories we had.

Yes, I made some resolutions. And yes, I'd be glad to hear yours, and here's hoping they're more original than "Quit spending money and lose 10 pounds". Not that they aren't worthy goals, but come up with something interesting for New Years. Here's a few that I read or heard various places:

Laugh more.
Drink less coffee.
Sit down and look at the stars/clouds for at least 20 minutes at least once a month.
Do something every day that scares you.
Strike up a conversation with a stranger on public transit or in a grocery store.
Walk or bike somewhere you'd normally drive once a week. (Maybe this one just in the summer for those of us living somewhere very very cold.)
Skip stones. Even if you don't know how.
Smile wider.
Arbitrarily break your routine.
Randomly break into song/dance at least once. (No, DDR does not count)

Alrighty, so there's some interesting New Years Resolutions I've seen. Anyways, that basically covers it in the "things I meant to say when I got to a computer" department, at least, I think it does... if not, there's always tomorrow.


So here's to sweet beginnings, bitter endings or not.
Happy New Year, Keep Dreaming in 2008.
Daydream Believer

Cupid, Stupid, and a Crossbow

Some ducks have all the luck. All this talk of chainsaws and dice-rolling, happiness, hedonism, and everybody's favourite four-letter-word. No, I'm not talking about fuck. Much as many might suggest that that's in fact their favourite four-letter-word. It's certainly a versatile word, especially where anger, indignation, or otherwise upset-ness is concerned. And now I have to be quiet because my roommate's going to try to sleep. Oh good.

Here it is Monday again, and as per usual, my world is packed into a handbasket and on its way. How many times can I be told to get out of my shell in one weekend? By how many different people? Maybe they should think twice about trying to release my inner bitch. She's an inner bitch for a reason, and I work hard to keep her that way.

It's a little tricky when the line between joking around and telling the truth gets blurred. And when I say a little, I mean a lot. Lines between morality and legality, and how much you can get away with. This is what we like to call an "Oh shit" moment. Two hours I've been sitting here in front of my computer. I can't tell when I stopped pondering and started moping. But I definitely feel a sulk coming on. I need to find a way to make it go away. I kinda wonder what a shrink would say about me at this point.

I think I may have met the younger version of the character I wrote based on someone I met once. Wow, was that ever convoluted. The simpler way of putting it: I think I figured out what's so intriguing about the person I just met.

Perhaps, like so many other things, it just isn't in the stars. I have to wonder about the accuracy of those things though, despite the testimonials I've heard. Maybe it's just my imagination, all in my head. Sometimes you can't tell the dreams from the nightmares. Which is worse, not talking at all, or a conversation that's like pulling teeth?

We are lonesome animals. We spend all our lives trying to be less lonesome.--John Steinbeck

Once again, I'm restless, because all of a sudden, I have this lovely daydream that I wish could be real. But at the same time, for the first time in a long time, I get the feeling that, when all is said and done, it's just that. Just a daydream. And I'm not quite sure if I can believe it anymore.

Daydream Believer

Chances Are

It's all about chances, odds, luck, fate. It's about circles. All of a sudden, I'm back at the same place in this circle, but this time you're at the right place in your circle. Geographic circles are another thing entirely, however, and that's why this is just another pile of what-ifs. I know myself, and I know exactly where this will end, and by the end of it, you won't be the only one that's blue. Christmas seems far away. This is really ironic, it seems that once again I've been posessed by the god/dess of bad timing. That's right, it was the "MFM" look... and that's right, she was right again. To quote a conversation with MFM himself, "This is a fine pickle we've gotten ourselves into, isn't it?" "No, I like pickles, this is more of an onion." Oy vey.

The other half of that lyric?

So close them tight and kiss me one last time.

So now I'm playing with fire, courting disaster, some might say. Like a chainsaw that you can only get in one store that's a very long way away.

Daydream Believer

Thankful and Courting Disaster

Courting Disaster
Right now I have this rather precarious feeling, as though I'm courting disaster. I miss people from the past. I missed people from the present. I want to make everything hurry up, so that I can see what's going to happen. There's my life here, my life there, I don't know how the two are going to mesh, how this whole thing is going to shake out. I have no right to be this tired in the middle of the day.

The runway lights are the deepest blue, like the colour of your eyes.

Red knew exactly what I meant when I said I had a little problem. I can't say it was a surprise in light of recent events, but in light of more distant past events, I'm nothing short of flabbergasted. Not so long ago, unbidden, I thought of you, and I decided that it was a good thing we'd grown apart, because if I'd still needed you, I'd be shit out of luck. Maybe that's the thought that was on my mind when we started talking again. Really talking, none of this "hi, how are you?" nonsense. Not like we were before. Better. We started off acres beyond where we'd ended.
You used to scare me, but you don't anymore. I didn't know how to deal with you at all. I'm still a little in the dark. I crave the unknown as much as I fear it, however. We're still not quite on the same page, but aat least now we're in the same book. maybe we can go from there. I asked the same thing of you before, and that which I feared happened anyways, perhaps had already happened. But please, don't let me lose you.

Just Dance
Poster shopping! Yay! Now I can rival Emcee in terms of our relative poster awesomeness. By April we won't have any wall left, at least not visibly. It's fantastic.

Well behaved women rarely make history.

Thankful
Alright already, do you honestly have to go out of your way to make me blush? Really. And would it be so bad if I did have a boyfriend? Other than the inevitable, it was wonderful. I may have a job lined up as a minion to a producer for the not-too-distant future, which, if it was paid work, could keep me out of the house of grease for a long time.

I would believe only in a god that knows how to dance.

--Friedrich Nietzche

Daydream Believer

Because the Night

Come on now, try and understand,
The way I feel under your command.
Take my hand as the sun descends,
They can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now.

On Sunset At Sunset
No, it's not the same place. It's very similar, but it isn't quite the same. It's not that theatre. The place I was talking about was that place, that wonderful, peaceful place. A place that's so much like this place. I loved to wander around there, I love to wander around here. I don't fear so much here. That's a lie. I fear differently here. I don't fear the night anymore, not the same way. The night's the same everywhere. I'm ignoring my work, which I've got gads of, to write this and to read a lovely book that fuels, even if it doesn't explain, my infatuation with the night. Twilight. Sunset. It doesn't seem real, so I can be brave, I can be my fictional self. It's wonderful, until I have to face the bright light of morning. Morning light can be so lovely, so clear and crisp, throwing the world into sharp relief, putting everything into higher definition. But sometimes you don't want the past to be so clear. Sometimes you'd rather not face reality. Sometimes you like the world to go a little blurry. It's about dark and light, but the darkness is a little misunderstood. The night can be an escape, such a relief. I find that I'm more afraid of the clear than the blurry right now. I don't know why that is.
There's nothing there in the dark that isn't there in the light. Is there?

Sunbreak
Watching the rain through a crack in the window,
It's the little things get you through,
Like the same sun rising over me's rising over you.
I wonder if you can see the change in my face. Gold, Loud, Este, and Sphinx, you'll have to let me know. I can feel it most of the time, it's subtle, but it's there. I sometimes feel like I've gone back, four years almost exactly. The same feelings, the same insecurities. But it's in the cards, this too shall pass. Opportunity. Carpe diem. A little cliche, I know, but it's real. I've shed one tear since I've been here. One single solitary tear. Not on the day I expected to, or for the reason. I'm not sure whether I felt worse before or after it fell.
Just didn't drink enough to say you love me,
I can't hold on to me,
Wonder what's wrong with me.

The Nile
Say that as though you've lived in Manhattan your entire life, and you'll understand. Fortunately, the whole thing passed pretty quickly. No telling when it'll come back, but I won't deny it again. It's simply not healthy. It's one thing to refuse to act on a really bad idea, it's another thing entirely to pretend that the thought to act never came into your head.

I believe in love too real to feel.
Daydream Believer

All lives are made
With these small hours,
These little wonders,
These twisting turns of fate.
Time falls away, but these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

Out Of The Blue

Cyclic Circles

I guess it takes hindsight to see the truth about it. Well, hopefully I'll know a little better for next time. I'm not going to get hung up on "might-have-beens", at least not today. But I'm about to start the same cycle over again. Now that I've been around the block once or twice, I feel like I can finally go for this without worrying so much.

Who am I kidding? I'll always worry, it takes up about 40 percent of my consciousness. I have to face facts, I'd be lost without it.

In any case, I have a few bits of, well, I think they're bits of brilliance, but everyone else might think they're bits of something else that starts with a B. That's ok though. They're mostly things I'm writing down so that I'll remember them in a couple of months. They may or may not make any sense to you, and that's ok too. Some bits out of my own mind, some bits I've picked up from people, books, coffee mugs or T-Shirts.

The trick is to dance like you're drunk even when you haven't had a drop.
Don't frown, you never know who might be falling in love with your smile.
Don't panic. You've made it this far, why would you break a winning streak like that?
Never say never.
Never say "What's the worst that could happen?" even if you're thinking it really hard, because fate may decide to show you.
Laugh. It's fun and good for you, and that's getting harder to find.
Have fun. It's rarely as serious as all that.
Oh, suck it up and go talk to him/her/them. They're not that scary, and they probably feel just as lost as you do.


MFM

How many times in the last couple of weeks have I thought about My Favourite Mistake? Too many. Way too many. I don't know why I'm thinking about it again after all this time. Maybe I'm still looking for the closure that I've grown doubtful I'll ever get. Maybe time has simply sealed the pages shut. Maybe that is my closure. I'd still like to touch base, I want to know what's happening now. Maybe I'm just playing with fire. I have to say, it's a good thing I'm not a cat.

Music
So lately I've had songs from these couple of movies stuck in my head. The kind of movie they give to little Christian kids to make them think they're watching Disney movies when really it's more like Sunday School on video. At least it's Sunday School with an award-winning soundtrack. The messages aren't bad, and the music's nothing short of amazing.

Memories
How awesome would it be to never have any regrets? It's something to try for, although it's practically impossible to do. I suppose I'm going for the happy medium here, between recklessness and being a wet blanket. Less like "forget regret" and more like "regret, sure, but then deal with it and move on". I blame Gold for my current state of having to scrutinize every idea that pops into my head and figure out how it meshes with my other ideas. Oh well, I'll never be bored. Here's to holding onto the good memories, and not dwelling too much on the not so good ones.

Anyways, I think that's pretty much enough musing for one morning. Ought to get out there and face the rest of the world, rather than just the part that is between me bed and my computer.

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Sad Eyes

Every time. Same thing over and over again. Never any resolution, we just try to forget it ever happened, until the next time. And somehow it's always my fault. And yet nothing I say can possibly make it any better. So what's the point of having these conversations. You get mad, I get mad, and everything gets worse.
I get it, I get that I'm a terrible person, and you're a wonderful one, and that you'd never do the awful, terrible things to me that I do to you, but really, I do get sick of hearing it over and over again.
How come you never apologize to my face? I didn't think of this at the time, but maybe subconsciously I was walking away because I know we never resolve anything face to face.


Sometimes I cannot stand you. Maybe it's because I see the things I hate most about myself in you, maybe it's simply because I see a lot of myself in you, and I was never meant to get along with someone who's like me. This is why I've been chewing so much gum lately. It's much easier to bite down on a wad of chewing gum to shut yourself up than it is to bite your own tongue. Trust me, I've got lots of practice, and it hurts. Maybe I haven't got any right to be this angry, but I am. I'm practically fit to be tied. What I don't understand is why things changed. I have a gut feeling, but I'm not sure. Either you changed, or I changed, or we simply had a major difference of opinion that threw the minor ones into sharp relief. Maybe that's it. A difference of opinion.

5...4...3...2...1...
Last few feet of the mudslide. Maybe it's time to dig in my heels.

On another analogical note entirely, I feel like I'm slowly being pulled up the lift hill towards the top of a really freakin' high roller coaster. In case I haven't mentioned this to you before, I'm terrified of heights. As soon as I get over the top of that lift hill, I'm going too fast and screaming too loud to even notice most of what's going on. It's the lift hill that's the killer. The anticipation.

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer
P.S. Maybe it is too late, Ace, but I've always had a penchant for lost causes.