Happy 2011

Things have changed. Lots of things. My writing style, certainly. And my writing habits. I've discovered in a quasi-archaeological dig through my posting history, a number of near-complete posts which I didn't publish. This is a stark contrast to my earlier writing, when I posted any random thought I had, without much editing, as fast as I could pour it out into cyberspace. I'm choosier with publishing my thoughts now, I think. As a result, I'm not posting as often, or as much when I do. Perhaps it's time to give the filters a bit of a break and let the flotsam and jetsam flow into the sea.

I think both in terms of monetary value and physical volume of stuff I received this year, it was at least close to the smallest Christmas I can remember. And that's fantastic! I received a few things that I really wanted (books, mostly), something I wanted but didn't realize I wanted (a teapot for flowering tea), and a goat. Some chocolate and a tea infuser, little lovely things. And of course the tarot card from Gold.

I was concerned, I admit, that this holiday would be tough. I was concerned that I would have gigantic piles of guilt. That my family and I would start to hate one another. That I would get a whole bunch of awesome things and feel guilty about it. That I wouldn't get very much stuff, and I'd feel hard done by. Even though I didn't want a lot of stuff. I have gotten a lot less materialistic, and I was concerned that, in one way or another, I'd find the whole gift-related experience of this delightful season unsatisfying.

But it's okay. I spent time with friends and family. I enjoyed seeing people I don't see too often, I gritted my teeth and drank a little more wine when things got tense. I didn't run out of the room crying or stand, feet planted, hands on hips, shouting until anyone else ran out of the room crying. Maybe, just maybe, things are beginning to work out. Maybe, just maybe, Mom and Dad are beginning to realize that I'm, if not a grown woman, certainly closer to being one than I have been before.

I spent New Years with Loud, Gold, and Sphinx once again. It's become something of a tradition, even if we missed it last year. I may have overdone it a little, but I maintain that a hangover is my body's way of reminding me what a great time I had the night before.

Among the people I count as close friends, I have few boundaries. Every now and then, I remember why those boundaries are there. I remember why every single solitary detail of my new love interest shouldn't be divulged in excruciating, mind-numbing clarity. Largely, it's because someone is going to tell me that what I'm doing isn't right, that it's not safe or healthy or fair. I can grit my teeth and take those judgments. Have to, really, since I've been known to dole them out rather generously, when required.

But I'm not going to put much stock in "Well then that's not really a relationship, is it?" It's not your place to define me any more than it's my place to define you. I could come up with one heck of a dictionary, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't like it.

I'm on a new road. One that I'd been mapping long before I got a car, so to speak. Who knows where the speed bumps are? But if I did, what would the fun be? I've never been conventional.

One thing I didn't bother much with this year was resolutions. I've been trying to work out the specifics and logistics of my goals for several months now and as expected did not come to a blazing epiphany hours before the clock struck midnight. I suppose the only coherent thing you could put into a simple phrase in terms of my goals would be keep on keepin' on. Which is what I'll be doing for the foreseeable future. 

Happy New Year
Keep Dreaming

It's Easy Once You Know How It's Done

Don't tell anyone, but I've got everybody fooled. I know, it was news to me too. My ex boyfriend/best friend in town, my friends, my colleagues, my acquaintances, my professors, even a therapist who sat there patiently while I bawled my eyes out over nothing, they all agree that I'm put together, high-functioning, in control, attractive, fiercely independent, and generally healthy.

In other words: I am projecting the image I have always striven to. I'm not sure this one can be wholly attributed to mascara. (Eye makeup=confidence. Confidence=beauty. Beauty + Confidence = Power. therefore Eye makeup = beauty, confidence, and ultimately power, but that's another day's theory). Even though I generally feel like the world is crumbling in various concentrations from a few pebbles off the parapets to the entire keep collapsing, unless I come right out and say it, nobody seems to notice that I'm a panicked, stressed mess feeling entirely out of control and as though nothing will sort itself out and it's all just too much.

Fan-fucking-tastic. And I do mean that with all sincerity. This week alone, I ran for student government (elections next week, I'll keep you posted), schmoozed with a couple of different roomfuls of strangers, some of whom didn't share a language with me, some of whom hold power over whether or not I graduate as scheduled, I flirted (the fact that my most success was with gay men and other women's boyfriends be damned, I still count this a victory) and did the latter in heels, without stumbling, twisting my ankle, or falling (in fairness, my final victorious step out of the bar was truncated by my ass hitting the concrete as I missed the inch and a half step between one level of the patio and the other, but I'm counting it a flawless night regardless). I'm on fire. I didn't have to force a smile. I didn't stumble and mince around and have to make the "Sorry, could you slow down, I'm wearing heels" excuses. And just today, I auditioned for something I was pretty sure I wouldn't get. And you know what? I'm in. I signed the dotted line, and I'm going to get paid. That's right, Daydream Believer can now call herself a professional actor.
But it seems I was a pretty decent actor all along.

Daydream Believer

Midnight Confessions

Do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell? Can I say all the things that I want to?

First: I am not the person I so desperately wish I was. I cannot be the confidante, the secret keeper, the person who always says the right thing at the right time to the right person. That person who makes it all seem better. I realize this listening to my sisters laughing and joking in the next room. About fifteen minutes ago, trying to make one feel better about something, I said what, while to me seemed like the right thing to say, obviously to her was not the right thing to say, and she started bawling after shouting at me to get out of her room. Apparently my other sister did know the right thing to say. I hate that I don't. I hate that I can't help.

Second: Here I am admitting, to anyone who will listen or cares to notice, that I am probably screwing up. In a wide variety of ways, but the most poignant to me at the moment is that for all my assertions that I don't need anyone, I do. And somehow my chase of adventure and excitement have taken me far enough away from the people who would have been here for me. So here I am, standing alone like the proverbial cheese. Even my sister, who may or may not be able to tell her own ass from a hole in the ground, can put it simply. "You went away and now none of your friends want to see you anymore."
Given this, I wonder, would it be better to give up on the adventures and go after the people, or keep up the adventures and lose track of the people? I'm beginning to seriously think I can't have both, and I may have already made my choice.

Third: I was looking forward to the dental surgery I had to undergo this morning so that I would have a reasonable excuse to take it easy for awhile. Some might argue that working as little as I am at the moment, I am already taking it easy. Externally, sure, but it's the internal stuff I needed to take a break from. For the next five days, I can't get into screaming matches, carry furniture up or down stairs, go to the gym, or panic about my future, past, or present. And I get to take narcotic painkillers which prevent me from driving, or even thinking with too much clarity, everything floats past in a gentle, warm, fuzzy fog, and rather than struggling to get to sleep, I sink quietly into a peaceful state of oblivion. I think I can see why people get addicted to this shit. It's not the drug, it's the holiday.
Consider me on vacation.

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

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

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

Walk On the Moon

My bags are packed, I'm ready to go.

Holy fucking shit.

Pardon my french. Am I excited? Out of my mind. Am I scared? Out of my mind. Terrification. So terrified it's terrific. Why is it always so sunny in this rainy city when I'm on my way out?

This is my one small step. I'm flying solo and flying free. This is the part where I show everybody, myself included, just what kind of stuff I'm made of. What an adventure. This is what I'm in it for. This is going to be amazing.

I'm getting the heck out of dodge.

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

Betting on the Wrong Dark Horse

New Years is a good time for introspection. It's not exactly New Years anymore, rather getting into the next decade. I have resolutions, as usual, but they just keep getting less concrete. Less with the lose 15 pounds (or just over a stone) and quit spending so much money, and a little more with the trying to work out where I'm going and how I'm getting there.

I'm trying not to worry, which is difficult for me, very difficult. I'm thinking the words he said, even though I refuse to say them aloud. But I think I'm okay. Sometimes my curiosity is destructive. I want to know even though I know he doesn't want to tell me, and I'm not sure I want the image to get any more vivid. Just like that riddle. Two children come in from playing outside, one has dirt all over her face, one has none. Why does the child without dirt go running to wash her face? They each, having looked at the other, assume they should be the same. No regrets. I stand by my choices, but perhaps with a new perspective, should similar opportunities arise, I'll make different choices.

Playing the role of someone in control.

In 2009 I moved to another continent, a different country. I did some things I always wanted to, some I never expected to (hello headstands!) Six months ago a lot of things were different, and some are exactly the same. That's right, New Years Day makes six months. On another count entirely, three months down, six to go. It's hard to believe I got through the first three, and it's harder not to feel like it's all downhill from here. I just have to remember the reasons for it, why I'm there. All those things I have to work so hard to remember when it feels like I've made a big mistake.

Unrelated note: Cadillac makes hearses. Go figure. I shouldn't watch the news. I notice the weirdest things, like the car company that made the hearse carrying the body of a suspected mobster.

Let me know that I've done wrong, when I've known this all along.

Good morning. I'm sitting in a globally known chain coffee shop recently well known for its wireless internet access. I'll get to why in a minute. But first, time to air the New Year's first dirty laundry. I try not to regret. In my head, I know it's a waste of energy, since I can't take it back, and even given the chance, I probably wouldn't. I've just done something I have to work really hard at not regretting. I could unravel all the complex and intertwined reasons why I did it, but it all boils down to I wanted to. And if I hadn't, on some level, I would still want to. I asked myself what the worst that could happen was, and I didn't imagine it hurting too much. Truth be told, this is one of the possible outcomes I had thought of. But everyone likes to think of themself as better than all that. Still I was surprised by the cold. I thought I was playing with fire, I expected to get burned. This doesn't quite feel like a burn. Regardless, I have to get used to it, because it's there, and it can't be undone. There is an awfully high temptation to find the nearest Louisville slugger, but on the whole it would be unwise, and probably wouldn't make me feel any better anyways. It's true though, could be the only true thing he said the whole time, but I did know what me, him, and a bottle of liquor meant. I still have most of the liquor, which is good, since I might need it in the next little while.
I didn't hit him. He said he knew he was being horrible, and that he'd understand if I wanted to hit him, he even took his glasses off and stood still. I wanted to hit him, badly, but I didn't. This wasn't supposed to hurt, but I willingly accepted the risk that it might anyways.

Am I supposed to be happy when all I ever wanted, it comes with a price?

I slept surprisingly peacefully last night, all things considered. Oh, talking myself down enough to go to sleep wasn't easy, and I have Bear to thank for the words that finally got me to lie down long enough for sleep to catch me. I slept peacefully until shortly before 8 anyways, because that's when I heard the skittering behind my bed. At first I wasn't sure what it was, then I hoped it was just one of the postcards scraping its way down the wall. Then it squeaked, and I freaked. Only one in the house, naturally, I panicked slightly. I grabbed clothes and my bag and practically ran out the door. Which brings me to why I'm sitting in a coffee shop before ten on a Saturday morning, listening to the piped-in music and trying to fight down the things that are making my stomach churn.

Good morning. Hope the day turns out a little better, but it's sunny.
Daydream Believer

Harm and Foul

I hate sleeping through alarms. I've lost my moral high ground. Maybe that's just as well. Maybe it'll be better without the antagonism. Or maybe it won't. Who knows. I've thought about it, I've wondered and considered and chosen a course of action. I'm feeling a little Frost-y at the moment. I spent part of the evening with a friend. A good friend, better than I generally have any right to expect. An inversion of friends I've had before. Not to say that I don't expect and hope constantly, because that's just my nature, and I'm bound to do it. But I have those expectations, those hopes, and when they don't manifest, or manifest a little differently, it's okay. An inversion, it doesn't have to be a fight, a test of wills, it's honest. It feels good. Safe in a backwards way. We're not making it any harder than it needs to be. I usually make things more difficult than they should be.

The damaged attract the damaged, and it's a little like the blind leading the blind. I want to make it better, I always want to fix people. I'm not sure why. Has to do with want and need, and probably daddy issues too. I always worry. I worry and I overthink and I can never use the excuse of not having thought it through because I always do. I do the things that people make excuses for. They say they were drunk, or punch-drunk, seeing red or looking at the world through rose-coloured glasses. They say they didn't know what they were doing, what would happen, that they can't think, that they don't think. I don't have those excuses. I think it all through, calmly, rationally, and still do it. Knowing the consequences, knowing what can or might or will happen, I do it anyways. After careful consideration, I make the conscious decisions that people tend to blame on their unconscious minds, on the id, on their reptilian brains. I don't get to cover my ass, I've just made choices and then have to live with them. Some have been the least of evils, certainly, but by no means all of them. I sometimes wonder if I am really some sort of monster, or if I'm damaged beyond repair. If either is the case, how can I justify wanting to fix people? Maybe I first need to fix me. Only thing is I'm not sure how.

Dance With Me?
Sing once again with me, our strange duet. I play with fire. I like it. I may be an adrenaline junkie, but I'm picky about my triggers. I'm drawn to the darkness, convinced, perhaps, that the light lies at the end of the tunnel, or that once my eyes adjust the best things are the ones once obscured by darkness. Crazy, but that's how it goes. The closer you get to the light, the bigger a shadow you cast. I want to see what the shadows hide. I want to know. I want to understand. And if you want these kind of dreams, it's Californication. I need to connect to something, connect to someone. I let myself get drawn in and it's never enough. Feeling as good as love, you could, you can. I like duality. I like the underdog. I'm drawn to the damage, like a rubbernecker on the highway. I don't have guilty pleasures, or at least I try not to. I make my choices and I deal with the fallout. No harm, no foul. Either way I don't want to wake up from this, sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare. I have an overactive imagination, I spend too much time living in "if" land. If only, If I, what If? Sometimes I play with fire and it warms me right to the core. Sometimes all I get is burned fingers, and sometimes the odd welt on my thumb. I've always liked games of chance. I'm steady but I'm starting to shake, and I don't know how much more I can take. I've never really been one for games of skill, mostly because skills can come and go so easily. My bets are usually with the green lady. One or the other. You're the right kind of sinner. I'm not. Sin is a tricky concept. If it's bad, why do we want it? If it's good, why would we be punished for it? More ifs. Ifs ands and buts. There are always exceptions. What you feel is what you are. I wish I could sing like Pat Benatar. I forget how much I love to sing, how much I need to sing. That's the way, though, isn't it. Sometimes you forget what you need until you have it. I think I thought I saw you try. Nothing's going to stop me from trying. Nothing ever does stop me from trying, at least nothing external. I'm stubborn as anything. I got it from my mother. Well, she jokes that I didn't because she still has all hers. But you get the idea. I want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life. I want what I want, and half the time you'll never know what it is. Because I'm afraid. I was surrounded by enough cruel, vindictive, competitive people in the past that I learned not to share my goals, because once someone knew about them, they became an obstacle to them. Guess I'm really on my own. As though if I say it out loud it's true, and I have to really deal with it when I fail, rather than just saying I didn't care anyways. I care too much, but I have to. I have to care about something, about someone, it's a compulsion. I am falling, and if I let myself go, I'm the only one to blame. I have to care, I want to care, and that's what usually hurts me. I like the duality of it, to be honest, the contradictions, the paradoxes. I like paradoxes. Paradoxes and balance. Both hydrogen and oxygen burn, but together they'll put a fire out. I don't want to put the fire out. I like it, it's warm and it makes everything else go. Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him? I've never been one for Pascal's Wager, but strangely that doesn't stop me from believing in something. We always wind up talking philosophy. Not that that's a complain by any means. I wish I could make that pattern expand. People need more hugs. Take a backseat, hitchhike, take a long ride on a motorbike. My scars are mostly on the inside, lining my lungs, my stomach, filling the spaces between the muscles and the fat, stretching between the tendons. Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse. The ones on the outside are nothing special. Chicken pox, a couple of childhood scrapes. I've never broken a bone, even twisted or sprained a joint. This world if you let it will drive you into the ground. I won't let it. I can beat this. I have to be able to. I have to believe that I haven't been set up to fail. If I don't, if I can't, there's nothing else I can do. Well, there's always one thing I can do, but that would require a trip to the chemist. You're no problem at all.

Mistakes can only happen with the benefit of hindsight. Unless we're speaking empirically, of course. But empirical really isn't my style. Mistakes are just risks you wish you hadn't taken. Sometimes you can only see things from the outside. Sometimes beauty is in the mind of the beheld. There should be more love. The stigma shouldn't be in having done it. The celebration should be in having recovered. Everyone needs more hugs.

I've been more introspective than usual, which is saying something. I must be making up for the extraversion of the last little while. That's right, I'm an extrovert. Shy as I am. Another paradox. No wonder I've got such an affinity for them. I'm full of them.

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

Without Ever Knowing The Way

The scariest part was how quickly I started to go into defense mode. It's all better now, but my shopping list for today worries even me. It started out innocently enough. I've never had sherry before, and I needed some more pens. The shopping list wouldn't be worrying at all if not for context. Everything's about context.
Friendships are funny things, and they can come in such a vast array of shapes and sizes. This kind of friend is the kind of friend I always wanted. I think I wanted it before because it was a little strange, a bit unusual, and because I was missing something. It's been a long time since I vocalized needing that kind of friend, never totally sure what the logistics of actually having one would be. Then, all of a sudden, once I wasn't looking for it... But isn't that always the way it goes? I wonder if it's always like that with him. Whether it's something about him, or something about me, or something about the two of us together. Whether I could have that in another context. Whether I'd want or need it in another context.
I've never before felt like that. The parts were familiar, certainly, but all of them hitting me at once bowled me right over. I'm not trying to make anyone feel guilty, I just need to analyze the things that happen to me. And this is one of them. Over the hump, really not so long to go. That's the bit that gave me all those ironic chuckles last night. I was starting to see the Christmas lights at the end of this tunnel, and were they ever gorgeous. I was starting to have everything sorted out. From here on in I'll have to be a little more careful. I never meant to hurt anyone. Usually the only one who I hurt is myself, and that's okay with me. When you play with fire, after all. I can take a couple of burns. Nobody else asked for this though. When you don't understand the backstory, it's hard to understand the action.
Nobody was supposed to know who I am. I'm getting braver, letting people see a little more of what's behind the mask. Connecting the mind and the body, so to speak. Telling real truths, in unadulterated and undiluted form. It feels good in a crazy terrifying roller coaster kind of way. Maybe I am an adrenaline junkie after all.
The decade shift is getting a little bit closer. As always, I'm finding that I don't have it nearly as figured out as I thought I would by now. Sometimes I catch myself out at it, reading an article about someone a few years younger than me and thinking that they're my age. Or worse, sometimes I catch myself thinking something like, what an immature brat.
The age thing came up today during the talk. I normally don't think about it so much. It's less noticeable when I don't see his sister, who's got a decade on me, when I don't remember that he was my age when I was my littlest sister's age. The more time goes on, the less it matters, the less it will matter, but at the moment it has become a bit of an issue. When we don't want the same things. But we do. We want the same things when it counts, and I think it'll be okay that way. It won't be long.
Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer