You are currently browsing the daily archive for July 5th, 2009.
maybe what i really need is some alone time. or time for silent reflection.
HAH. as if i am not getting enough as we speak.
few have an idle mind as dangerous as mine.
horrible. horrible.
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hello estrangement. hello stranger. hello stranger.
hello broken, broken heart.
pickle me in a jar. look at me. tell me i’m beautiful. tell me i’m the most beautiful thing in the universe.
broken, broken heart.
crimson (220, 20, 60). dilute. vermillion (vermilion) (227, 66, 52).
riddle me silly.
red, red heart.
broken, broken heart.
let’s board another one.
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the realisation of all the things that make me me.
the initial self-resentment, the willingness to throw it all away because of external mirrors once disproportionately important. (i seem to be constantly and weirdly consistently disproportionate)
the willingness. irrationality and logic – the lack thereof. the willingness. how could i have been so willing. disappointment.
now – defensiveness. build a fort stronger than mine, i challenge you. (you) built me a fort of conviction, of strong words, of indignance, of hurt and rage and bitterness and passion and jealousy and possessiveness.
the only fort which can mow this fort down (stupid notion – forts don’t move.) is a fort of altruism and hope and patience and forgiveness and kindness and understanding and empathy. qualities which i have never succeeded in cultivating on your plot of land.
evil versus good. this is not a movie.
the morning will come and my fort will by now have dissolved with the last wisps of fitful dreams of the night before and i will now be reduced to nothing more than a normal person.
knight(ess) of the night. peasant by morning. why do i bother waking up.
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i sit in the last rays of sun coming in through a square window in a dusty attic
(imagine sweeney todd and edward scissorhands. johnny depp. mm.)
the most interesting conversations are the ones going through my mind. i have nothing (much) to say about politics or the state of the country or economics or what is happening in the world of influenza viruses because all my words are being consumed by the voices in my head. i don’t know any big words – i do not have the misfortune – but all the small ones wreak havoc and rise mayhem all the same.
mayhem on crack. hahahahahahahahahahahahahah. apt.
do i like myself?
i have to live with myself for the rest of my life.
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tom and hannah are going to have to learn to take the backseat.
childish fantasies.
i feel like the kid who had to use a piece of dried fish as his daemon after Ann Coulter got to him. Was it Roger? the kitchen helper’s son or something. Lyra’s best friend. no it wasn’t. but it was a kitchen worker’s son. maybe it wasn’t. i forget.
i should have finished the trilogy when it was still “cool”.
(insert piercing and painfully accurate musing about not thinking about what other people think)
i wouldn’t give people all this shit if i didn’t care about them. i wouldn’t give people all this shit if i cared about them. everybody has their own argument, everybody is never wrong – only i am.
i am the weed that bows in anticipation of the wind. thoroughly appalling.
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there is nothing else you can do and the both of you are tired. this is no time for heroics or for the clash of egos.
let go.
let go.
let.
go.
PS. at least i’m writing now. lose one, gain one. :)
my closest friends are the best friends in the entire universe.
:)
