Closer To The Heart

I have tried to write a post at least three times since my last one. I know it's at least three because of the little stumpy beginnings of posts on my drafts list. Since my last post, stuff has happened. Some of it pretty big. Some of it only seems that way. I'm always looking for moments, things I can stash away for later when I don't have adventures anymore (I hope that day never comes) so I can look back on it. I'm finally getting somewhere with that quest.

And if I had the choice,
Yeah, I'd always wanna be there.
Those were the best days of my life.

I drank a lot of ale one night. That was pretty fun. I may have met my match, alcoholically speaking. It's ale. I simply can't drink enough of it to get a solid buzz going, let alone further inebriation. It's the chosen drink of a few of my far-far-away friends, including Dose. The one with the band and the leather coat. The one who interrupted my cup of tea. Things were pretty awkward for a bit, though nowhere near as awkward as they might have been, nor for as long. By the time the ale was pouring, everything was alright again, and I was glad of it. Then he asked me why I'd felt like such a tool when I found out about Blondie. (They're always blonde, by the way.) I told him, he apologized, I apologized, and then he made a joke about Geddy Lee that only I got. It was a good night. A good last night with a lot of the far-far-away folks. Then Dose sent me home with the bassist. Let's review this quickly, and you'll see why one of the far-far-away folks was calling me a groupie. Three man band, I've gotten with two of them, and the guy who sometimes techs their sound. I'm okay with that, really. I'm the good time girl and I'm okay with that too. I'm not really ready to be anything else.

We bury our fears
In the drinks and these tears
For the days we believed we could fly.

So I ended it. I'm not sure if it hurts or not. As always, and I do mean every time, I wonder if I made a big mistake. I'm this way with most decisions. I'm a horrible waffler, even when I've made up my mind. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. It may be a long time before I'm actually comfortable with any given decision.

Some people, it's a pity,
They go all their lives and never know,
How to love, how to let love go.

That's why things got so different near the end of that overseas adventure. I finally felt like I was making choices because they were the choices I wanted to make. I didn't feel like someone was pulling my strings. I was free. And I was happy, chuffed to bits. Then I got surprised. I hadn't gone in with a plan, with any expectations at all. It was a whim, an impulse. Not a power play, not a negotiation, not a transaction. Just an event. Just a moment. A great moment, but just a moment. Oh, like that. Just like that. That simple. And then that thing I'd been looking for all year happened. Too late, yes, and I proved to be yet another disappointment to yet another person. But it's the thought that counts, right?

I got dosed by you,
Closer than most to you,
What am I supposed to do?
Take it away, I never had it anyway.

I finally did get the closure I was looking for. I'm not really sure how. I think it actually came from Dose, which was rather unexpected. Probably when we were sitting outside talking about what had turned out to be a big misunderstanding. When he said he didn't regret it. That was ridiculously important to me. All of a sudden, it was all okay again. Everybody wants to be worth the trouble, and I'd be a liar if I said I was any different. It's all well and good to say you refuse to regret anything, which is what I try for. But I don't always take into account other people's regrets, and the effects that they'll have on me.

When that foghorn blows,
I wanna hear it,
I don't wanna fear it.

I'm back in the castle, which is a little aggravating, but nothing I haven't lived through before. Who knows, maybe the king and queen will grow up a little bit. Three years later and once again, I want to nest. I'm still looking for home, trying to build my own space. Somewhere I can live. Rolling stones gather no moss though. A house is definitely a step up from moss. Being a free spirit is harder than it looks.

Never Quit Dreaming
Daydream Believer

A Smile On My Face

You learn new things every day. I'm going to keep learning things, even things I don't necessarily want to know. All knowledge is worth having.

I am getting stronger and braver after all. Life is a lot like lifting weights. The only way you get stronger is by doing things you're not strong enough for. You have to keep pushing, otherwise you stagnate. I refuse to stagnate. I will continue to do what I should, do what I have to, and do what I want to, even though sometimes when I do those things it doesn't work out the way I think it should. I'll worry about breaking down when it gets a little closer, and I won't shy away just because I've been burned.

Right now, I feel invincible. The sun is shining in this rainy old town and it seems like the world is falling back into place. I'm not walking into a wall anymore, there's a warren of routes ahead of me, rather than a single dead end. I made it this far. I found out what kind of stuff I'm made of, and it's pretty sturdy.

I won't be ashamed to laugh or cry, if that's what I feel like doing.
I'll learn from my mistakes, but not so much that I paint with a broad brush. Every situation is different, whatever parallels may exist.
I will face my past and future with hope and a pinch of realism.
I will jump off the bridge, not because everyone else is, but because nobody else has the guts to.
I won't be afraid to be alone, but I also won't be afraid to be in company.

If I let my hair down, would that be such a crime? It's not wrong to be young. I may just step off the edge again, worrying about the fall all the way, but to get up and walk off afterwards. I can strike the balance between feeling alive and staying alive. I can, I can... I can.

Oh yes, she's back.

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

What Goes Around...

Okay, so I have to get my jollies somehow. I'm only slightly panicked about the whole performance to-do, the fact that we're supposed to pull a show of this level out of thin air in a matter of days while not neglecting our other responsibilities, although, let's face it, we have anyhow.
I'm trying not to be cynical, trying to remind myself that square one is just where I can to be. But at the same time, I can't help it. When someone's only civil to you when they've got one thing on their mind, and after a stretch of extreme unpleasantry returns to civility within 24 hours of a breakup, the alarm bells start to ring.
But I can still laugh. My laughter has taken a slightly psychotic turn of late, mostly because it stops me from crying. And after the fifth 12 or 14 hour day, you start to find the strangest things funny. Apparently I'm an honorary man. I'm taking it as a compliment. I wonder if this gives me license to belch? No one can say there weren't warning signs. Pneumonia. No one can say I'm the crazy one now. Well, except me, but that's because I'm the only one inside my head. I'm the only one who knows just how crazy I might be. This time, I'm the one in control. I'm learning to speak up, I'm learning to stand up and be counted. Practice makes perfect. Raising my voice, raising my fists.
I'm full of pipe dreams. Ideas that will never work in practice. But they're nice to think about.
Keep Dreaming.
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

Poison

Destructive behaviour is a funny thing. Funny peculiar, usually, although I have been laughing an awful lot lately. A means to an end. I wonder where the end will be. I know what will likely happen if I continue. I've seen the pictures. It isn't that I like it, it isn't that I need it. But oddly, it makes it all feel better. The willing intake of so many toxins, it makes me feel better, strangely. Like bringing the turmoil from the inside into something concrete, something of which I am the commander. Something that's between me and that little burning tube. Someone made the hypothesis that in order to do this kind of thing, one must hate oneself. I freely admit that I hate myself from time to time, but it is not at those times that I crave the toxins, not usually. Something to focus on, something to bring myself out of myself, something to make the rest of the world real again. Art on the edge, going not quite to the point where you lose control, but close.

And it makes it easier. Easier to forget. I already have that foul taste in my mouth, it lets me ignore it. Easier to act, not to think, not to wonder, not to compare. Easier to keep the secret. I once felt relief, a strange, twisted kind of relief that all I needed to trigger a sensory memory of that strangely comforting time was to smoke a couple of cigarettes and drink a case of cheap beer. It was that easy, and the taste in my mouth when I woke up the next morning was exactly the same. And here I am drawing parallels with that time again. Much as I say it's the same, it isn't. Fundamentally, it has this major, gigantic difference which I can only see being totally honest with myself. I won't call this a game, even if there is some play involved. I toy with the idea of opening up, of telling tales. If I did, the inherent betrayals aside, would it change the act, force me to change the qualities or quantities of it in the telling, in the reactions? Adjust the past in my memory based on the reactions of someone who wasn't there? Colour the experience with the eyes of the present? Force me to qualify and quantify my own reactions? I don't know. You have to be honest about what you want, and I don't know why that has always been so hard for me. But now I am honest about what I want. Both in the short term and the long term. At least to myself. At least as far as I can figure out what I want. That's all I can ask of myself.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried. I'm reasonably sure it's not a motorcycle accident, since it's supposed to be packed up for the winter by now, but I'm still a bit sketched out. It's unusual for it to be like this. Some people, you don't worry if they don't pick up the phone, some people, you do. With him, I do. I'm worried, I'm afraid. Not just about now. About later. About whens and wheres and what ifs. I'm pretty good at being realistic, but what happens when the thing you've tried to be most practical about becomes the thing which not only can, but must, defy rationality, the thing that makes everything else take a back seat, the thing everyone's looking for whether they think they are or not. The thing I thought I couldn't have, and so petulantly declared I didn't want. Maybe I still can't have it. That would be poetic, wouldn't it?

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Being Vewwy Vewwy Quiet, Huntin' Wabbits

Secrets can be fun. When I say I'm not surprised it happened, it means I thought it probably would, although I would not have been surprised if it hadn't happened either. In spite of my sometimes overwhelming urge to confide, I'm keeping my trap shut this time. Secrets have a way of wiggling out even through pursed lips. There's nothing to confide. It's not like it's anything I can't handle. Secrets still give me that lovely glowy feeling though, that feeling of knowing something. It makes each joke a little funnier, keeps a slightly sardonic smile on my face throughout the day. Maybe I'm really keeping it quiet because I still haven't shaken that need for the approval of all the other sheep. Especially here and now. Which implies that I'm not sure the other sheep would approve, and it's true. As much as I like to bandy about my I-don't-give-a-shit-about-the-masses attitude, when push comes to shove, I'm as much of a coward as the next person. When the masses are made up of people you've come to know and care about, it's a little harder to flout what they think. As long as I don't get any direct questions, I'm alright. I don't lie well. And sometimes "It's none of your business" just won't fly. I would so hate to take away their punching bag. Largely because I would likely replace it. I've spent a fair amount of time the last few days cringing over the jokes I've laughed at, the jokes I've made. In a new context, they're still funny, but I really don't like having to eat my words. These ones might not go down so easy.

I may have started out as a fox, but I was always hunting something. Even when I tried to pretend I wasn't.

Inevitability. That's what's sometimes lacking, this peculiar feeling of not being able to stop it even if you wanted to. It feels good, fun, not stressful or worrying. As much as I hesitate to tempt the fates of contact between shit and fans, things are pretty good right now. Into the home stretch and on my way. Adventures are good.

Dream On
Daydream Believer

Touchdown 0094

Well, I have space. At least at home. And I do feel at home here, even if everything's different, even if everything's wrong. Even if my room's too big, my bed's too big, the streets are too small, the clothes in the shops are too small, and I had to work way too hard to find a bottle of salad dressing. I'm happy. I'm adjusting. There's a lot to adjust to, the greatest of which is that he's not here. 3 down, 12 to go. I'm gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay. I just don't know what I'll do if this trial proves to be too much.
I don't know why those guys put me in such a foul mood. Maybe it's because I know that if I lose him, that's all I'll have left. It's a depressing thought. That and I suppose my fight or flight instincts are changing gears a bit. Here, I'm a fighter. I have to be. I have to fight for everything. I have to fight my way into an already established group. I have to fight for myself, my work, my sanity. Yes to cream teas. Sometimes it's hard to figure out what's important. Sometimes it's crystal clear. It's easier to fight for what you believe in when you know what you believe in. I've been to defensive, too tired, too hungry. I'm homesick. With varying degrees of literalism. Maybe I will become one of those beauties, but I'd probably have to give up chips to do it.
I love the post-bar food, and the fact that I can go for a night out for about half what I used to pay. I love the view from the end of my street. I love that my accent is sexy here. That which is rare is prized. I love that picture.
I wish I'd brought more posters, my walls feel oppressively beige. There have been lots of things I've wanted to say, and I can't remember most of them.

I'm here, I better get used to it.

Dreaming of home (a little).
Daydream Believer

As The Leaves Began To Change

I woke up a few days ago, and it was still dark. The last time I had to wake up that early, it was daylight by the time I'd ditched my pj's. No longer so. It's not summer anymore, kids. I love fall, always have. Even when it meant the end of summer freedom and the beginning of seemingly endless schoolwork. I just love it, the smell of it, the weather (I hardly ever get tired of telling people, during the dog days of summer, that I'm only sweating like a pig because my genetic makeup isn't built to withstand temperatures of more that about 20 degrees) but most of all, the feeling of opportunity and excitement. Naturally, spring symbolizes rebirth, the beginning of life. That's not the case for me. For me, all that stuff goes with fall.

Another thing that goes with fall is hibernation. Making a nest in which to hide out over the winter. Nesting, that's something I've been wanting to do a whole lot lately. I want to paint, pick out furniture and paintings, decorate. A big part of it is that I've never really had my own space. Sure, when I was thirteen my parents let me pick the colour for the walls in the room I was sleeping in, but it's not quite the same. Even when I moved out, it was temporary, again, not really my space, and then back into the castle, into the extra room that for the rest of the year is a glorified closet. I want my own place, yet another trapping of adulthood I've always wanted but right now am feeling a mammoth push towards.

My baby sister starts high school tomorrow. I wish I could talk to her, tell her that her whole life won't suck as bad as high school will, that it does eventually get better, that it's not as serious as it seems. But even if she'd listen to me, I have a hunch these are lessons she'll have to learn on her own the same way I did.

Looking at it objectively, it's not as bad as some have led me to believe, and not as good as others have. I've always hated the sound of my voice recorded, but like so much else, I'm going to have to learn to live with it, learn to be proud of it. It's a start. I wish the Siren would help me.

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Ave Mary A

Drinkin' wine and thinkin' bliss
is on the other side of this,
I just need a compass,
And a willing accomplice...

A willing accomplice is the big thing. Hashing all this out with Bear, it kinda makes sense again. I'm not going crazy, not yet anyways. And I can want the picket fence one day, but not right now, and the fact that I don't want it now doesn't mean I don't want it. Nor does the fact that I won't give up the rest just to have it.

I've been looking for something,
Something I've never seen
We're all looking for something to be.

I felt bad for flip-flopping. Changing my mind again. But the more I think about it, and lord knows I talk about it enough, to enough people, the more I think that the two aren't mutually exclusive. I'm not flip-flopping then, but tweaking, shifting, working out the balances. Figuring it all out. I don't feel that heavy dread, the despair, the loneliness, at least not right now. I wonder where the natural end would be.

Stay tuned for the next episode.

Dream on

Smile

I did it. I had an adventure. By myself, with no one else's prodding. As adventures go, it was fairly tame, but it was a step, hopefully the first of many. And for now, the events of my evening are my very own little secret. I haven't had a good one in awhile. I don't have to tell anyone about it, and that feels amazing, like I've got an ace in the hole. Better, even, because I don't have to reveal it to use its power. I went out and did something just for me, just because I wanted to. I broke down one more wall. I have the strangest smile all over my face, every time I think about it. I laugh out loud. I'm not all the way free yet, but I've taken a big step in that direction.
I have another secret too, but that's only kept from the one person. It's got some power to it too. I mirror her insecurities. I didn't realize how many of her there were. I should have known. We're doing this less for ourselves than each other. This idea that women are always so mean to one another is complete bullshit. The best defense seems to be a good offense. And a shared secret, after so many kept from us.
Sweet Dreams

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

Live and Alive

Odd that I can only do this while I'm alone. I guess because in some sense it's still my dirty little secret. I publish my own thoughts on the internet. Even now it's a little taboo. Really though, anyone could find these words and thoughts, which is terrifying and exciting at the same time. Maybe someone I've never met will find a connection, maybe that's why people write books. Unfortunately I don't have the attention span for writing a book. Maybe one day I will. But anyone finding them doesn't know who I am, couldn't know who I am. General things, yes, and some very personal things, but they wouldn't be able to pick me out of a lineup, recognize me walking past on the street, and that's a kind of protection.

Which brings me to why I haven't done this in awhile. Despite the very public nature of the finished product, the process of writing is very personal for me, and very private, and I haven't had much in the way of alone time in the last little while. Not that I haven't been alone at times, but never for a very long stretch and usually alone in the sense of being surrounded by strangers. At the risk of sounding like the temperamental artist I try so hard not to be, I can't work like that. I also prefer to write when I'm fairly certain I won't be disturbed before I can finish at least the thread I'm working on at the time.

I've always been intrigued by intrigue. Oddly enough. But the drama of people interacting with one another and the system fascinates me. In another life, with another personality, I'm convinced I would have loved to be a spy or anarchist, knee deep in all the shit surrounding people, power, love, and money. Why not this life? Well, to start with, I'm a terrible liar. I tend to giggle in the most unseemly and unsubtle way when I try to misdirect people. That's not to say that I can't keep a secret, I can, and like to think I do a pretty damn good job of it. But my favourite tactic for doing so, changing the subject, really wouldn't hold up against someone who knew I was keeping something from them. For another thing, I don't like to hurt people. Even collaterally... usually, in fact, the collateral damage of any situation in which I'm involved is me. I'm resilient, the joke I've made is that I'm actually a superball in human form. Y'know, those ridiculously bouncy things that you can throw against a concrete wall, but then you better duck because it's coming back, and hard. Most of the time I figure that I'm better equipped to deal with any pain I've caused than anyone else. But I let things get to me, usually more than I should, occasionally more than is healthy. But in the real world, I'm not good at the games people play with each other. I don't know if it's possible to be when you don't like to hurt people. I'm getting quite good at getting kicked around though. I've been wondering why I'm not bitter... y'know, that bite the hand that feeds thing... the part they don't tell you is that before that hand fed, it slapped. I've been wondering why I'm not more cynical, more broken, more prone to anger, less trusting. I mean I am all those things, I'm probably more bitter and cynical that I've got any right to be, but not all the time. I have my moments where it all just piles up on me, usually late at night when I'm by myself, but I'll cry, go to sleep, and in the morning it's not so bad.

I don't have too many illusions left. I know that the odds of my making a decent living doing something I truly love are slim, and it's far more likely that I'm going to end up doing something soul-crushing and only being paid minimum wage in exchange for it. I know that the way I'd like to live my life isn't realistic, despite my conviction that it's a good way to live. But I know that none of that is going to stop me from trying. I once read a quote that said "Courage is loving without expecting anything in return" and maybe that's true. Maybe I'm not more bitter because that's not my role. Maybe it's my job to be the one who refuses to stay down. Not necessarily an optimist, but a boomerang at the very least. Perhaps I have an overactive second chance gland or my blood is too high in forgiveness humour. Maybe have too many bad ideas or I'm just too damn trusting, but I really don't care.

Still Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Burn

Just to recap, yeah, the vampire thing is pretty hot.

So I'm playing with fire, but maybe that little burn is just what I need. A distraction. What might happen if it wasn't a distraction is dangerous territory, as is what might happen if the distraction grows to overshadow that which it is supposed to distract me from.

Somebody's gonna hurt someone before the night is through,
Somebody's gonna come undone, there's nothing we can do.
Everybody wants to touch somebody, if it takes all night.
Everybody wants to take a little chance, make it come out right.
There's gonna be a heartache tonight.

I'm hoping I've gotten through the first part of the heartache, and now I'm free and clear for awhile. I gotta say, one hell of a distraction. I'm working on this whole "no regrets" thing, I am. Trust, limits, history, geography, friendship, lust, fear, curiosity, human nature, hope, longing, self control, joy, pain, there's a lot here. I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't enjoying it. I weave complicated webs, and do so willingly. It makes life more interesting. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I can play at both Valerian and Mandrake. There are many ways to be intoxicated, I suppose, and this is a particularly finicky one. But I've still got a smile on my face, and for once the adorable side is up.

Funny, isn't it? The way things shake out. Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end.

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Till I Am

Who'd have thought that a song called "Crazy Bitch" could seem so romantic? This side of a good night's sleep, it doesn't, except for that odd memory. Still haven't decoded that funny look... but I'm pretty sure I'm not imagining it now.

So maybe I'm walking the razor's edge, given history, and its unsettling habit of repeating itself. In terms of "what might have been" there's quite a bit. Maybe it still could be, but I doubt it. We're not who we were. Maybe it feels so safe because its not, the same way that some things feel so scary because for once there's nothing to be afraid of. Another chip off the ol' shell, I suppose.

Yes, it's a hellhole, but dammit, it's my hellhole. I guess that's why I smiled all day today. When I wouldn't last night... or couldn't.

Relative reality... hm, there's a concept I could sink my teeth into. Nothing more than what you can perceive exists, or even if it did, you wouldn't notice it. The only truth you can find is the one you come up with yourself.

Keep dreaming.
Daydream Believer

How can I fit so many labels onto such a short post? Metaphors and total lack of clarity!

Winter Wonderland

Anyone who talks to me regularly knows already about my love/hate affair with being alone. Why, you may ask, is this relevant now? Because as beautiful as this city is, it isn't much good to me without the usual suspects popping up. And since we're currently in the throes of the generic, politically correct, non-denominational, holiday season that happens to take place between the end of November and the middle of January, (also known around here as "Winter Solstice", said in a nasal voice) everyone who doesn't have to be here has gone home. So that leaves me mostly alone on a usually bustling piece of real estate until Thursday. And on Wednesday they stop feeding me.

So yeah... on the bright side, peace, quiet and sleep before heading home for a decidedly unrestful holiday, because that's how these things work. On the not so bright side, not a whole lot of talking, and even fewer interesting shenanigans. Because lately I've been taking part in some interesting shenanigans, however I'm seldom the author of these plans, and the ones who are, are all eating real food as I'm writing this, making me extremely jealous.

And having not seen them in almost two months, I'm about to spend nearly three weeks with the four people on this planet most willing and able to make me cry. Not to mention I'm going to be a person in less than a week. I'm quite looking forward to it, to be honest. Sovereignty over my own person. Sweet!

No, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth, I've just been preoccupied. Who would have thought that this change would make me so unbelievably happy, and that I'd really come into my own... oh wait. I did.

Everyone deserves a chance to fly.

Keep dreaming, you never know when you'll get a chance to make them come true.
Daydream Believer

Sleep Tight

Corporal and Rad, what the hell am I going to do? I don't know, but I know that Ginger is right. Those butterflies don't happen all that often, so I'm damn well going to enjoy them. No matter where this goes, no matter how it ends. Goodness knows its kind of good the let someone else make decisions and do the work for awhile. And I'm going to get all this shit done. Tomorrow I get to pretend to kick the crap out of someone. In the meantime, the words are flowing like cold corn syrup, but that's still better than before, so I'm going to try to heat stuff up.

Ah, music. I really like Eric Clapton, and I didn't even know it. Yay reminiscing. If only I knew then what I know now, eh? I went to almost every one of my middle school dances, but was always too shy to dance. Oh well, hindsight. Dancing is more fun when you don't have chaperones checking to make sure you're not dancing too close anyways.

Maybe the problem is trying to separate heart, head, and gut. You need all three to get anywhere, really. Maybe we should just relax, stop trying to put the boundaries around each, and let them handle things for a while. Your subconscious and unconscious are there for a reason, let them do their job.

I said a lot of things out loud today that I've been thinking for awhile. Oh well. Had to come out in the open sometime, and I kinda felt like I was going to explode. So now I get to sit on this stuff for three days until everyone's in the same place geographically, so that I can get to the same place non-geographically.

Don't let the bedbugs bite.
Daydream Believer

La Bohème

Love is an angel disguised as lust,
Here in our bed until the morning comes.

Apparently critical volume for getting Daydream Believer most of the way out of her shell is 6 shots of rye in half an hour. Apparently barely post adolescent boys are more or less the same everywhere, which I guess doesn't surprise me. Interesting, I don't quite know how to feel just now. Even though I'm a lot smaller than them, and wasn't quite all there co-ordination wise, I still felt like I was in control. Of my actions, of my words, even of their actions. At the same time, would I have said and done the things I said and did 6 shots earlier? I don't know for sure, but my money's on no. Who am I kidding, I live inside a massive shell... or perhaps a tiny glass box. You can see me in there, but I'm still a step removed. Last night, I removed the obstacles. It was liberating, it was fun, and I wasn't scared. But I can't help but wonder if the people I encountered would appreciate me in all my shell-less glory when they're sober. People, myself included, are a lot more accepting when they're drunk. I'm not going to lie, I'm terrified, but damn it, I'm going to get out of this shell. I had a taste of a new kind of freedom, and I liked it too much to let it slip away so easily.

Looks like that's the "foreign ass-grab" skirt. Funny thing was, I wasn't scared, hurt, disappointed, disgusted, or annoyed. Nobody was measuring my reaction either. I wonder if those two things are connected.

All of a sudden, I feel powerful, in control. Stop the presses, I think I've got feminine wiles after all. Shame about the directionality though. I think maybe, things could have happened yesterday, I could have made things happen yesterday. It's an interesting feeling. Sometimes it's alright to be silly. And yes, Ginger, you were right about the good Corporal and probably about Rad as well. As you said, fuck him. Ok, bad choice of words, but I'm sure the idea gets across. If I can stick to that idea, well, hopefully good things will happen. Bloody hell, as soon as I twist my brain around, things get fucked up again. Could be worse though.

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

Misery Loves Company

Fucking christ. If you want to tell me to bugger off, by all means, tell me to bugger off. Just don't try to make it sound like you're doing me a favour. I can take a lot more than you expect I can. I'm probably going to regret a lot tomorrow. At least the light was off. Fuck. Misery loves company. Shame I'm alone right now, isn't it?

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