and the lost cause of words walks away with my nerves
(via detriot )
(via my soggy notebook)
"I found out that writing is a kind of therapy.
One of the few ways I can almost be certain I'll understand something is by sitting down and writing about it.
Because by forcing yourself to write about it and putting it down in words,
you can't avoid having to come to grips with it."
-HST-
Click to viewthese two videos makes me intensely happy and sad at the same time.
it was in the presence of the two gallants when we smoked those beedies I brought back from Barcelona.
The room was red hot.
I may not have slept for what seems to be weeks now and when i do it feels like days and I don't mind all that much.
I may not have made a good photograph in what seems like...ever? Deadlines piling up.
I've got a bed of good reading material, cats, and dirty dishes.
I've got my cameras and rolls of film waiting for me. I've got a fresh heart on my wrist.
even so.....
(via typewriter blues)
I know that I just need to suck it up and get through these next few weeks. Finish up the semester.
I'm regaining my health, I think. Practising yoga again and trying to feel better about myself. There are still vices.
I have my best friend who gets me through these nights with beer and vinyl.
I have an old best friend who will always be there for me, even back when he'd take me skateboarding after my first broken heart.
I have my brother and my family, who may not always understand me crying in bed, but I know they love me regardless.
And I love all of them.
And I'm getting out of town next month to Florida (it's somewhere) and then *hopefully* Italy/Spain/France for a month.
And I've got a phone interview with the University in London next week.
If I go to uni there, it means leaving a lot behind this autumn. Most important, all those I mentioned.
And though I've seemingly started a "new life" over and over in various cities over the past 4 years, I usually end up back in Leonard seeking comfort, which isn't bad, but I need to really go for something that wont easily let me fall back home. That city is my lifeblood.
Though that doesn't mean I'm going to be completely severed from everything and everyone.
It's not "When she goes, she's gone."
thinking of the future makes me feel....sorta okay.
But still....
It's been a while since I've been on this side of the looking glass and I guess I forgot how the tiniest little letters and words and sentences and looks can knock the wind out of you and throw you on your back when you thought you were just starting to get your feet on the ground again after a pretty dark winter. And, without any eloquent way of saying it, it sucks.
The other night was finally someone slapping me awake and saying, you've fucked up for the last time. It's over. Too bad. And too bad the last 5 months have been like some blurred bad dream and I've done and said things that I'll always regret. Shoulda coulda woulda. Replay it over and over in your mind but that won't change a damn thing. It's always a learning experience. I've been here before. And I got over it. Eventually. But it still doesn't make it easier for the time being. And I don't want enemies. I don't like not being able to see friends even if we pretend it's okay. I don't like being jealous. Tell me how to fix that.
Anyways, I've an amazing person in England...but sometimes that's hard when you're 3700 miles away and you can't even hear one another's voices.
Part-time lovers and full time friends, don't forget it.
This too shall pass. Sooner than later, I hope.
Spring is coming. Summer is coming.
I'll get out of this rut that had been ruining my schoolwork, health, and ambitions.
Therapy? Perhaps. More like a typical LiveJournal entry.
Bides the night, anyway.