azure means blue

Yesterday, then. Yesterday was another of those days simply full of itself. What a delightful dreadful double meaning. Watched two movies, with company pleasant and painful. Lay on a terrace in the sun. Thought about old people. Five people who knew me. Boy, but T gets around, doesn't she?
And he's here. And I worked so hard to patch it up that I'm afraid to take the chance it might give way. I'm not ready to go through all that again.

And this morning I came online; or tried to - Just one post, I told myself. Just to write about yesterday. And there was no connection, and the server couldn't be found, and I kept thinking "bell jar bell jar bell jar" Is it really that easy to go insane? I think so.
jawline. what does it mean?
I would like some chocolate cake.
I'm afraid of my presents.
Can no one help?

feeling stupid

ache hurt ache hurt ache
I
all the old aches, in new ways and for new reasons
And a person who does not know how much it hurts
scorn, disdain, condescension
And have I not done it, and is this not why?
So what right have I?
And still, oh, the pain, the pain

And then the words are so tragically infuriatingly inadequate
And that's
worse

Oh, help
Oh, God
Oh, don't

rather have had the nobody

Oh, dear.

and what are you afraid of?

If you were here, would you?
Would you want to?
And I cannot find it in myself to ask.

Wasn't expecting what I got.

forgive me for gloating

The fact that no one understands you doesn't make you an artist.

I still won.
Both.
guh.

Oh, ms. egovanity; go away, do.
You may return over the weekend.

watching horizons

I need to talk again.
Where is everyone?

wanting hugs for aches that won't fix

Had a very long tiring day
Went for a fest
And am very tired
and feeling useless and not talented and stupid etc
And don't think I won anything
Feeling so low :(
Tomorrow will tell whether or not today was a waste of time
I hate wastes of time
Makes T cranky

I want to do these things
And I have wasted five years
And college life will be over
And I will never have been in a band
Or sung anything
Or acted in a play
Or gone for DC or pictionary or word game
Or anything
I'm so UNHAPPPYYYYY

Brain is frizzled :(

Five people gave hugs. So many? Only five.
:(
I want more.

yes, but

be careful, anyhow

19/11/2006 19:56:15
Wake. Up.
Owwww
Are you here?
19/11/2006 22:45:44
Now I am
But what use is it?


And how soon after I wrote this did you stop by? :)

fickleties

fickle tease.

isn't language pretty?
i take shame and weakness and make it dance.

meanwhile?
all fixeded.
though i don't think it's fair that others have things to read while i don't.
so take that, mister man. yes, i mean you.
thou, even.
:D
being bad is funner than other. what a pity.

besotted part 2

I have a new addiction now. It seems as though I cannot go without an addiction. Addiction to addictions, isn't that funny?
The latest is conversations. Suddenly I need to talk. All the time. And have people listen. Listen and talk and pick apart the things I'm saying. I want Conversations. So I come online every morning the instant I wake up and I log in to every messenger and I wait for one of six people. And one of those is you.

So, on Monday, my birthday, somebody goes, "May I ask you a favour? Don't talk to me for the next week."
I say, "Sure."
And it's been a day and a half, and I see that it's far too hard. There's no one to talk to, and I don't want to keep writing to strangers who come to the blog and then never reply. And no one's online; and the ones who are online can't talk because they're busy, and I should be busy too, only I don't want to be because I want to talk. My entire body is one big itch.

I've been asking about good psychiatrists.
Do you know any?

And in case you couldn't tell, this is one (1) number besotted chatterbox requesting company. Specifically, yours.
Or even letters. Letters would help.
Something to read from other people. Something for me. Stop by and say something? It means so much.

(crossposted)

besotted part 1

One can tell exactly how much the current boy is messing up my head by how often I post here. One can also tell most of what's going on in the head by reading said posts. Apparently this time is rather worse than all preceding. The worst part is that I can't remember anything from before except the words. (oh say, will i ever forget the words? ever? from any? bhow, who knows. i doubt it muchly. i wouldn't be me then, probably.) And that means I can't tell if it's different at all. Sure, nothing else makes sense, and nothing else is comfortable, and the time sense has gone on leave again; but the same things happened every time before. I am very tired. I am horribly lonely. If I don't watch myself, I'll do things I shouldn't, and say things I don't really mean, only because I leap ahead of myself again.
Leap to conclusions on pain of death.
Everything right where it belongs.
I need to get me some company outside this box.

favours

Of course, you said. Yes, you said.
So just you sit tight and keep your paws off the keyboard, missy. Think of it as design-time. Think of it as time to write that novel. Think of it as test of willpower. Think of it as anything at all, just don't do anything you'll regret.
Not knowing is not the end of the world.
Say it with me: self control. Self Control. SELF CONTROL.
Remember the Pratchetts. Remember the Biggles. Remember.
Phe.

I wish there were a way to just thump myself upside the head and get myself to listen to me.
I need to find myself a new distraction, the best would be if it is design, I can do it!! but Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, the letters are not helping one bit.
>:(

grrawr. arrgh. rrawr. hiss. spit.
the head is having fun making sounds :)

ungrateful

And some days I feel so full I need to let the things ooze out. Everything in the world all mine and I resent old ladies and begrudge them their little pleasures. Am I that selfish?
And I stand in dark rooms with forehead against cool walls, stand on marble till my feet grow frozen numb, sit with one leg curled under and the other knee below chin; hug myself and hate myself.
I let the aches ooze through the bones.
I let the songs slip under the skin.
And think of nothing.

If it's all in the head, then what is this pain in the chest?

how, then?

And the odd thing is how the people who love you often have the worst advice in the end. Except mothers.

do you remember?

mustn't mustn't mustn't.
must must must.
many many ows.

Irony is pretty.

birthday blues

How well that sounds.

I want them to say, "We're going out, will you come?
"Oh, do; without you the day will be awf'ly humdrum!"
I want to be loved. Multipl-y.
So selfish.

What will satisfy?
As much as I can, that's what.

again

third time lucky?
third time's the charm?
all good things come in threes?

oh, hell, no.
i'm running away from this one.
watch me run.
watch me.
catch me.

*sigh*
may i sob?

oh, help

i'm not making any sense.

how many times a day am i going to go through this?

hum

somebody wants somebody

kindred spirits

And after all it is wonderful to find someone to whom you can confess your most shameful failings without editing them first. And, to my surprise, this time I have avoided the second guessing and the weaving, or perhaps all I've done is managed to step outside. Is that not wonderful? Hmm, what dost thou think? :D
Oh, lucky. This is friend.
I wish one for everyone.

And may I quote you compliments from other quarters?
Interesting how the perspective changes, from close-up to deep focus.
It's good but there's potential for improvement.
The feeling for language is there, that is the essential part.
Also a feeling for character development and dialogue.
The ability is there. Now you need to tame it, harness its full potential.
If any of it was polite lying, I will break my heart.

foot in mouth

perhaps i should never have said anything.



now all other words are stuck in limbo. i need to bite things.

betrayal

When you let yourself down; when you let your ideals go; when you break your own heart - then what right have you to ask others to treat you better?

What right have you to expect them to?

...and he watched over word and thought and deed as jealously as if her clear eyes were to pass in judgment on it. She held over him the unconscious influence that every girl, whose ideals are high and pure, wields over her friends; an influence which would endure as long as she was faithful to those ideals and which she would as certainly lose if she were ever false to them...

I feel the need to weep, but then, when have I ever been able?
Make me cry? No one did it the last time I asked.

twice over

How does one go from feeling empowered and ecstatic and high, to feeling like there's absolutely nothing in life worth living for?

Yesterday. We went out as women. We went out to reclaim our streets. We stood where the men stood. We displaced the gawkers; we returned stare for stare.
We made flashers run. We made a grown man cry. We reminded people of shame.
We removed our blinkers. We saw power in numbers we hadn't know before. We discovered things about our own selves we'd never suspected. We found out about limitations. And about our strengths.
We felt like goddesses. And like women.

Why, then, do I feel like there is something precious I've lost?

never wanted it

I love you.






Sometimes I say it only because I like the feel of it in my skin.
But I never know if I mean it.

I need some really good curse words.

i wish...

...never to disappoint anyone but myself.


And lately when I come home and can't write out whatever it is that's been in my head on the ride home, I feel a sense of desolation completely disproportionate to reason. The very thought of all my tangled fancies slipping away before I have a chance to grab them and make them behave? Makes me want to cry.
How strange everything is.

say

Would you, please?
Always.

who do you love?

Do we love more the people who need us or the people who hurt us?
The ones who need us but will never ever tell?
The ones who think they need us , and cling?
The ones who take us for granted?
The ones who stay?
The ones who leave?

The ones who match or the ones that don't?

whom, whom.
did y'all notice?

wide wondering

Darlings, are you all this nice to me on purpose?
My heart is one big happy puppy.
Tomorrow promises to bring me down, but for now I will revel.

What deserves so much?
if i fell.
i would dance.
blisters.
lashes.
senseless ramblings because i'm afraid to say too much.
thank you is so inadequate.

I feel the marble under my bare feet, and i feel as light as candyfloss.
Oh, I want to write reams and reams and instead I'm doing my design. Is that fair?
Hummmmmming. Does a single one of you know I mean you?

my sweet hunk o' trash

honeys, what does it mean when everyone's reading this blog as well?
"What a bewildering variety of blogs! The complexities of the inter-relations between them could keep a professional critic busy for months." :)

Is it that hard? Not really. But the time frames do tell.
I love the unconnectedness of this one. And all its innuendo. I could look back at this five years from now and not remember what I was talking about. I'm still afraid of my pain. And I love how I would simultaneously post a melodramatic scream over here and some lighthearted piece of fluff over there. And all the posts that became the poems, and the poems that became posts. Perhaps it is only indicative of how many people I am. I still like being multiples.


Summertime and the livin's easy,
Fish are jumpin', and the cotton is high.
Oh yo' daddy's rich and yo' ma is good lookin',
So hush, little baby, don' yo' cry.
One of these mornin's you goin' to rise up singin',
Then you'll spread yo' wings an' you'll take to the sky.
But till that mornin', there's a-nothin' can harm you
With Daddy and Mammy standin' by.

With music, how can the world be bad?

aching people

when is it time to give up on someone? old not-friends and childhood demons. i can't seem to care so much. is that my fault or his?