Weak

Something about tonight leaves me cold, if you'll pardon the pun. Eyes downcast. Demure, or furious. I don't know why. I can't see your eyes, which I hate. You can't see mine either, which is my last line of defense. Maybe I'll say something I regret. Maybe I'll regret it right away. Maybe it'll take a few days. Maybe I'll change your mind. World's biggest hypocrite, maybe my worst idea ever. Would I change a moment of it? For nothing short of world peace. Do I regret? Absolutely. But I'll work on that. It's over now. I have lots of regrets, I'm slowly rubbing them out, letting them fade into the background. You wanted this to do good, not bad. You should know by now that you're a force of evil in my life, in all its variable forms. You haven't called me pretty lady since we started this. I don't know why I miss it. I hated it when you said it. I only exaggerated slightly about not wanting to go home. I knew I'd have to face it if I came in. And it was better to stew out there than in here. There was the chance that you'd find a way to fix it. You usually do. You sometimes humour me. That same hug. The same as he had. You hate being compared to him, but you're so much the same. In action, in word, in memory. Maybe one day I'll be able to relegate you too. Say with confidence, "I don't need you anymore." I could say it now, and it would be a lie. Maybe I should brush up on my lying. Might be less painful for both of us. Every time, it always feels like there was something left unsaid. One final line that would tie together the loose ends.
Maybe it's goodbye...

Daydream Believer

P.S. Give me a week, once I've gone back to motown. I ought to be back to normal. Well, normal for me.

Encore

Here it comes again. That feeling of deadness, emptiness. The very feeling I tried to escape. Doubled in strength and from two separate angles. Threatening to swallow me up with every passing moment. I don't fear being alone. Never have. The way I plan to live my life, I'll probably spend a good deal of time alone. It can be peaceful. It lends clarity, perspective. What I fear is the loneliness. The feeling that everyone who I might once have mattered to is gone. There's a saying, the pain of rejection is not from someone saying no, it's from the feeling that no one will ever say yes. Loneliness is like that too. It's not being alone, it's the feeling that you'll be forced to be alone.

Would you mind if I pretended...

Another shoe drops. There should only be two, but there have been more than that so far... there'll be more. I should know my limits by now. What I can handle. I've got a lot of tears in me, but for some reason certain things just won't make me cry. At least not on their own. Three exceptions. Now, at least. Up until a week ago, only two. Funny, it's not who you'd assume it is. Maybe I'm only really strong when I really have to be. If that's the case, this is a very good sign. Fuck, there's silver lining all over this bloody cloud. Long as I pay attention to it. We walking into this hoping we wouldn't wreck it and expecting we would. But its not wrecked. Is the tension going to be worse next time around? Possibly. Friendship is less of a string and more of a finely-wrought steel cable, firmly anchored at both ends. No one can hurt you like a close friend.

One day I'll wake up and it won't hurt anymore.

One way or another it'll all shake out.
Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Lash

He looks at you like I look at you. You've got it made. Are you sure this is what you want? Poor baby. This isn't fair to you or to them. Is wanting what I want so wrong? You don't have to explain. You're either the most manipulative sonofabitch I've ever met, or you just don't care, and I don't know which at this point. I don't even know if it matters. I care, I care about the people I love, the people who are important to me. Relax, he's just being him. He seems genuinely concerned that this is going to hurt you. Its about curiosity, and it's a good thing you aren't a cat, dear. It's not a threat. I don't know if it's a threat. Do I have a reason to feel threatened. No of course not. Is that a lie? I could be spiteful and mean right now, and say something that would damn near bring somebody to their knees. But I'll hold my tongue for their good, after all, nobody expects things like that out of me in the first place. What am I retreating from?

I didn't say most of what I just wrote, and I kinda wish I could sort it all out better. I've turned their words over in my mind so many times that they have my voice. Now I've said or done something that pissed somebody off, and they won't tell me which of the dumb things I said and did pissed them off. And is avoiding me. So yeah, as if I needed more of a reminder of what a fuckup I am.

daydreaming the days away....

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

If this was a movie, the song on the soundtrack would be I'm Still Here. But it's not a movie, so I can't guarantee that everything's going to work out in less than an hour. I can't guarantee that everything's going to work out at all. I hope it does, for what it's worth. I doubt I'll sleep tonight. Maybe this is the beginning of my feline demise. No regrets, you taught me that. If this is your way of protecting me, you're doing one hell of a job. I'd still be driving around if I didn't have the sense to know I'd have the truck around a tree within the hour. But I do, so I'm here, typing out idle, angry words that may or may not be worth anything tomorrow. About a friendship that may or may not be worth anything tomorrow. I hope your secret is going to smile at you, laugh at your dumb jokes, and remind you to keep your chin up about her. Because I would have. I probably still will, but I don't know whether you'll want me to. Maybe I pushed just a bit too hard, but you know that that's the way my mind works. You were concerned about destroying something by divulging, and I hope you haven't destroyed something by keeping mum. There are some stupid things I could do right now that I've never been so tempted to do in my life. I won't, because the risks aren't worth the possibly rewards, even thinking of the risks as the rewards, but at least I'd be able to sleep tonight. You were so concerned about the worst that could happen. I can't think of anything worse than this, than leaving things this way. I hope that whatever you're afraid of was worse than this. Because this isn't going to go away on its own. We're at a bit of an impasse here. Maybe I do know. Goodness knows I've heard words like this before. But now, as then, I think I'm crazy, imagining something there that isn't. It wouldn't be the first time. Even the first time with you. Maybe I'm overcomplicating things. Maybe I'm reading in too much. Maybe I'm not reading in enough. Maybe now, like then, the simplest answer is the truth, much as it makes everything else complicated, much as it goes against probability, even the things I know and feel. Maybe now that I've proved that I can out-stubborn you, you'll trust me. Why is this friendship so hard all of a sudden?

It's on your front porch.

I wish... never mind.

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!

25 and Sunny

In response to Loud, I hadn't really thought about what kind of motorcycle... preferably one in a relatively un-motorcycle-like colour... like hot pink or something like that. Or maybe a red one... but aside from that, one that runs would be a good start, I think.

I call her Siren for different reasons. Her song tempted me, drew me out of myself and towards her only to dash those initial thoughts on the sharp rocks surrounding her. Reminding me why I was never cut out to be a sailor. As much as the song haunted me, it told me a lot about her as well, maybe a little more than she wanted me to know. She made me sing, when I was afraid, and for that I owe her a lot. Although I doubt she knows it. I hated her for a time, a hate fueled by jealousy, loneliness, and misunderstanding. And then I sailed away on the ripples of those small words that meant so much, and here I am, standing upright and unmystified, like a four-year-old marking her height on the door frame.

I'm sure Freud would have something to say about the funny dreams. I blame it on change of diet, actually getting as much sleep as I should, and the number of detective shows I'm watching. Maybe not so much that last one, but you get the idea.

Anyways, it's sunny and warm outside, so I'm going to rip myself off the computer chair and go outside. If anybody feels like joining me, feel free. It's too pretty a day to be by yourself.

Daydream Believer

Regime

It really isn't the time for numbers. Especially since I've always said I didn't care about them. I did. Not about them, per se, but about what they represent. 155 really doesn't mean a thing until you put it into context. Nor does 125. Or 106. But every time I read those three numbers, I assign a significance to them.

At least she's supportive this time. I took drastic measures before. Not even really on purpose. Back in the black eyeliner days. I call them that, but I still wear black eyeliner. Just not like that. But I did take those drastic measures, and nobody even noticed. So either they just don't pay attention, or the drastic measures were a futile exercise. Either way, I didn't get what I wanted. So here we go again. I think my body's starting to rebel, started even before I started this madness. Or maybe I'm simply hormonal. It does happen.

So dismiss this, if you wish, as the ramblings of someone who doesn't know what she's talking about. Someone who's only ever walked the straight and narrow. Someone who's never rebelled against anything. Because that's what I'm doing isn't it? Accepting the arbitrary restrictions, not fighting anything except myself, my own needs and desires. Conforming. Means to an end is a common defense. I'm never going to be the means to anyone's end again if I've got anything to say about it. I'm takin my own means, to the end I want. Finally. A little dash of control.

It's cold. I don't care. It's not the reckless, wild "I don't care" of there's something more important, it's just the simple truth. The feeling of nothing more important. I want to be important, I just realized. That's not something I tend to say. It's unseemly. But at the same time, I don't think I can help it. Maybe that's what this bit of karma's for. Because, horror of all horrors, I want to be important. Could be that all these inane motions are the channels I try to go through to be important. Maybe I will be someday. But for now, it's cold, and I really don't care. That one was a little reckless.

Reckless, undue risk, maybe while I'm in this mood I should learn to drive a motorcycle. I've always wanted to. It's not rational, it's not safe. It would piss off a couple handfuls of people I could name without thinking too hard. Maybe that's why I've always wanted to do it.

Sticks and stones. I really wish I knew what that look meant. Before you leap headlong into lake conclusion, it isn't that look. A small, twisted, probably very wrong part of me definitely wishes it was, but it isn't. And I'm not just saying that because if it was, it would shatter too many boundaries and foundations to think about the repercussions. It's just a look I can't figure out. Maybe it's different every time. It might be a question. The "I want to ask but..." look. Can't think of what the question is though. I don't have too many secrets anymore, and the ones I've got are solidly buried under mountains of meaningless trivia. Like an extremely complex calculation, much as I hate to compare myself to math, one of those nearly-endless problems that you have the final equation for but have to go through three or four equations to find each one of the values that go into it. Maybe that kind of equation doesn't actually exist and I'm just rambling. As always, I wish I understood that which I don't.

I would so like to be an optimist. Maybe that's why they say I'm crazy.
That's what I'd like to say to the subtle-as-a-train-wreck kick in the pants. How can you stand doing and saying these things, and drag yourself out of bed in the morning, knowing what you know?

Pascal's wager really isn't my thing, but maybe there is something I can't find. I don't know why some believe and some don't. And I don't have a name for what I believe or don't believe, as the case may be. I guess for now I'm working on the "When I know, I'll know" assumption. Fear or no fear.

Tragedy is when an individual is unwilling or unable to connect to their surroundings and society. Well, maybe this is where I try to connect.

Wireless network found!?

Daydream Believer

Sad Eyes

I may be broken, but I'm not broken down. I'm sure they're trying to be sensitive by not mentioning it, but they can't simply not know the particular circumstances which cause me to want to do all sorts of tiny meaningless tasks but not actually get on with my life. I've never been this motivated to garden, paint, or write in my entire life. I'm distracting the fuck out of myself for the next four months to avoid inevitable cabin fever and caginess.

It's not that I don't want a job. I could complete a psychoanalysis to the best of my ability and figure out all kinds of deep reasons for why I'm reluctant to get a job. I don't want to accept that this is as much the real world as that was, I want to pursue other things, I want time to visit friends and family. But the simple answer is just that, simple. I've only had that one job, at least in classic terms of employment. I hated it. Why'd I stay? A combination of not realizing how much I hated it until I got some hindsight, and not wanting to let anyone down by quitting. Just like the victim of spousal abuse who thinks that that's just the way marriage works, I didn't realize that I didn't have to hate my job. However, now I'm feeling tremendous pressure to go back to it, and I really don't want to.
With a little luck, maybe I can get to something else first.

I had a brief brush with the world of bureaucracy today, and once again, am glad I didn't go down that path. A simple delivery. I walked through an open door, not marked with "Employees Only" or any indication that I shouldn't walk through it. I was promptly told that I wasn't allowed to be there, and fortunately, rather than being forcefully escorted out, pointed through another unmarked door towards my destination. This is why I'm an artist.

After that, I ordered new set of eyes. These ones come with clip-on sunglasses. I still marvel that my old frames, purchased 6 or 7 years ago, are basically of the current style, thick semi-transparent plastic. Anyways, 6 or 7 years later, it's time for a change.

I've only got so much positive outlook. After today's meltdown(s) I'm looking to build up another supply. I've heard green tea is really really good for you.

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

It's Not What It Looks Like!

Okay, okay, I know this looks bad. Really bad, in fact. My place is a shambles and it looks like a herd of water buffalo just came through, but I'm organized and closer to moving out, I swear. Really.

Next time you hear from me, I'll probably be back in the castle. Unless it's before Friday. Bags, boxes, and my weight in packing tape are going with me for a lovely little 10 hour drive. Yep 10 hours, not 8. Apparently I don't drive as fast as my parents.

Ironic, I never opened the peanut butter jar. Just another change, I suppose. Here I am going back, and I can relate CC saying he's sad to go back. Work, and quite possibly a lot of stress in my future. Job anxiety is not good for me, and I think it took some hindsight to figure out just how much I hated my job. So here's to my luck and hopefully not going back to that job. Here goes nothing.

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

Thanksgiving?

I'm completely aware it's the wrong time of year, in fact nearly the opposite time of year, 6 months later, moving from winter to summer, not vice versa, but I don't care. I've got good reason.

I am not required to travel only with the permission and accompaniment of a male relative.
I can legally work.
I have nearly 15 years of schooling under my belt, and there's no reason why I can't get more.
I have never been intentionally locked in somewhere.
I have never been severely beaten.
I reached the age of majority in my country of residence without being married off.
I have both hot and cold running water in my building.
I am not forced to cover my hair or face in public.

Much as I frequently voice (justified, in my opinion) complaints about the state of women's rights in my own country, in relative terms, this is not so bad. I just finished reading Khaled Hosseini's A Thousand Splendid Suns, which reminded me, as something does every now and again, to take a second to be thankful for how far things have come in this country, however far we may still have to go.

Even more so, I dream of the day where every woman on earth, indeed, every person on earth, can be thankful for every single one of those things.

Daydream Believer

How Far is Heaven?

I could.

Bleach my hair out, wear too much eyeliner, wear skinny jeans and decry all things "ordinary".

I could.

Be petty and mean and fake and pretend flawlessness and put everyone down who doesn't meet my exacting standards of thinking just like me.

I could.

Follow all the other lemmings off the bridge, place more stock in appearance than fibre, go on a diet and weigh exactly one hundred and nine pounds, and then complain about how fat I am.

I could.

Stand by and watch, listen, speak only when spoken to, or about.

I won't.
I'm sick of this shit, how old are we?

And I would love to say this is just about me, that I'm sitting here feeling sorry for myself because I want something from someone, because I feel gypped. I do as well, but at the moment I'm more concerned with who else this affects. Really, girl, grow up.

Let's Move Before They Raise The Parking Rate

So... well... y'see...

Okay, fine, I have no excuse for not updating in nearly two months. Schoolwork, travel plans, and a new hair colour. Yep, that's about it in terms of "what's happened to DDB lately". That and some interesting revelations. Like that Emcee never really liked me that much, it turns out. Well, they say to get someone drunk if you want to know the truth about them. And I'm going back to the castle tomorrow. And CC's coming with me. Yep. That's going to be scary as all fuck. And how come Rad's friendly now, when I don't feel ridiculously alone and am not in dire need of a friend? That's just confusing as hell, but even so, one is never in a position to take an extra friend for granted.

So apparently people need to be convinced that I'm an okay person. I need to get my ass on that.
The fig is not important? Who says? I say it's very important, and more important the second time around.

There was a lot more I wanted to say, but I can't think of it just now, so I suppose this is it for now.

Keep Dreaming
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

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

Relapse

Everybody has their weaknesses. Everybody has their issues. I suppose what they don't realize when they show those scare tactic videos is that the people they're trying to scare aren't afraid. Everyone else in the room is terrified. I'm sitting here watching this video saying, "I wish I had that much discipline. I wish I could manage that." For the first time I understood the rationale of control. I don't have that much control. I don't have that much discipline. I'm a fraidy cat. I see those tendancies, I see those habits. I see them in them, and mirrored in myself. And I hate that I'm not strong enough for that. Some might say that it's a blessing, that it's better this way. I'm not so sure. I'm stubborn as anything. I have a lot of willpower, but not quite that much. I'm not that strong.

And then there's emotional pain. A strange, totally unexpected twinge of heartache, so severe that it felt physical. Totally unexpected, but entirely familiar. It was almost a safe kind of pain. Safe, but unwelcome. Safe only in its familiarity. Who would have thought that a dream could have so much power? I should have, for the love of God and everybody, but this took me by surprise. But I don't know whether it was a dream or a nightmare.

Dreaming the day away,
Daydream Believer

Remember

Do not stand at my grave and weep;

I am not there.

I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there.

I did not die.

Author Unknown

On another note entirely, I have a friend who is celebrating his birthday today, and I feel rather bad for him, since people tend to be sombre and reserved, so here's a little happy birthday for him.

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