Tuesday, February 27, 2007

third persons

Once upon a time I wrote that. Very astute, methinks. But I look and see and it's been far too long since I wrote anything here more than a few sentences long.
Time was when the blue was the only thing that kept me sane, when the blue was the only place where I was uninhibited enough to go right ahead and write whatever was in my poor tormented head at that moment, regardless of organising thoughts and making sense. And today I go forward and back and edit. oh, the shame.
I'd forgotten how much fun it used to be, though, the continual self-analysis. why did i stop? perhaps i got happy. today was...an odd day. almost like old times. i wanted to tell someone about it, only who? the pa is long gone, and the bee i don't want to bother, and i don't trust anyone now anyway.
today i thought about unhappy people. people unhappy. and i thought about how i cannot bear to have people i care about unhappy. and then i thought about how i define these people i care about - people i've never met, people i'll never meet, people i've known barely days.
once i wrote a boy a letter - eight pages long, handwritten, air-mailed; and once i made a boy a mixed tape - twenty-odd songs, hand picked, pre-arranged, timed; and once i wrote a girl haiku - specific, titled, special; and - but that makes no difference to anyone now, does it?
i can try, in my little clumsy awkward way, to make things better, make it all better; fix it fix it fix it; but nothing works because people don't understand the gesture at all. and he will say "why did you? you barely know me", and i'll cry because oh, he doesn't understand, and then i'll write him a letter full of lies just so that he'll believe them and feel better, and poof, you see? i did what i needed to do.

and really, in the end, i feel as though i shouldn't bother. because i can scream till i'm blue in the face about wanting people to think i'm nice, and having ulterior motives for all the things i do for people, but the truth is, i cannot sit by and do nothing when a person makes me feel as though they're unhappy. i can't. i can't. even if all i manage to do is to show them that there is one person who notices when they're feeling less than great, i need to show, i need to tell. and maybe it is, oh, it probably is, because no one ever told me.
and there is someone right next to you, and they're miserable, and there's nothing you can do; because can you guarantee a well-paying job and a loving partner and a bright future and a happy ending?
sigh. i wish there were a way.
hugs are good, but still.

maybe i'll buy her a Johnson's baby lotion (TM). just to show i care.
And apple pie and cheese for a certain special someone. He doesn't stop by here, but it needed to be said. Much like all the other nonsense over on the blue.

Do I feel better?
No. But I feel romantically melancholy, and it's been a long time.
All hail the blue! :)

i love u too.

oh, listen.

say hello.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

first wedding

And now I want to cry very very badly.

There must be some way to stop the self-destruction? Someone please, oh please, tell me what that is. I keep thinking everything's over and done with, and then there's a Sunday evening when I come home and all the old boys gang up to break me in little pieces again.
If there were any merit in repetition, I'd be covered in gold stars.

Go to hell. Every last one of you.
All your advice is crap, and I don't deserve to be treated this way.

Hmm. It has a certain ring to it. I'll try it a hundred more times, and then I'll see what happens.
Maybe there'll be some gold stars in the offing.

Friday, February 16, 2007


i hate being right about things like this.
bloody little bitch.
at least it was only the one.
dear god, how will i survive two whole days??

blue on friday

The wao is off to Washington to see her somebody.
The bee is off to London to see her somebody.
I want a body. Somebody who deserves me. I'm so tired of waiting for wonderful people who will like me as much as I like them, and then finding instead either wonderful people who don't like me as much as I like them, or pathetic people who like me more than I like them.
I'm scared of dying alone and unloved and an old maid. And this is why, when people talk of 'finding me a boy', I never say no. But no one has ever found even one. It hurts very much.
I want this for nobody. Good luck to you.

Tell me again.
Where are my promises?

Thursday, February 15, 2007


I don't like underground. I'm getting decidedly turned off. Why is it the people who stick around are never the ones I really want? It's unfair! Do they teach mindgames to all the boys at that school?
Last count four. That's unpleasantly high.

An actor-poet on a motorcycle. With a guitar.
Such hope!


Sunday, February 11, 2007

in particular

dear heart, oh, where have you been? i've missed you dreadfully. my life has been so full of people and events and a'ventures that i barely have time to breathe, but not having you to talk to has hurt in great big unimaginable ways. come back soon? life seems meaningless without you.
love and stuff

Friday, February 9, 2007

time to say goodbye

let the boy go
before somebody breaks