Daily Livejournal Spam for you #18
I'd like to start tonight's spam off with a few depressing statistics:
We were together for four months; we've now been apart for five.
I have not been kissed - or had any romantic/sexual contact (cuddling, touch of a cheek, anything) for two months.
I have not had sex for three months.
You will be gone for another month.
Getting low is becoming more common. I'm falling quite behind in my classes. Speech in particular worries me. I feel sick inside most of the time. But listen to me, moaning away.
I have a new friend who seems to be a gift from the Goddess herself. Such an open soul I've never known. I hope the fact that I trust her instinctively will not come back to bite me.
I'm vetting more and more into the artist side of my nature, though heaven knows that doesn't help with my utter lack of talent! It gives me a sense of accomplishment when it feels like I'm fucking everything else up.
I hope to get back on track with my classes by monday. This means I have to read at least one chapter of history, do my spanish homework. write the first and second draft of a spanish composition and find time to have someone from my class fill out the correction sheet of the rough draft, read the intro and assignment for my 101 history class, and look into the next math chapter.
I'm so ashamed of myself for the last two weeks, though I keep reminding myself that so far I'm doing just fine in all my classes, and that I still seem to have things well in hand.
To add to that, the need for a job is becoming increasingly pressing, and neither of the places I tried called back, though I know both were looking. I don't understand that. Meh.
The pressure's mounting higher and higher, it's all my fault, I feel completely alone, and I don't think I'm going to enjoy this weekend back home which I've looked forward to for so long.
I'm just going to have to tell myself that tomorrow is my day off. After tomorrow, I will finish up my spanish and do the first draft on Saturday. I will do the second draft if I have time, and I will also make a copy of the student correction questions and have my spanish buddy fill them out. I will finish the speech assignments and figure out what day I present.
Now that I know that you are reading these, I feel the need to say something to you, rather than just ranting through whatever thoughts are gnawing away at my brain, but I don't know what to say. I miss you so much that my mind refuses to even try to comprehend it. I remember us in our little alternate universe, and I want to cry because I don't know that I'll ever have that again. We were so happy, even fighting, even miserable I was happy because I could touch you and see you and the worst fight we ever had in person is better than the best night we've had on the phone. Perhaps you'll return. You are adamant on that point, though even you refuse to guarantee when. I hope that you do, because your absence is felt. But more than that, I hope that when you go off on your silent meditiation of the ocean you'll rediscover your love for me, not the memory of it but its reality, the feeling that drove you to walk across the valley, to risk your equilibrium, and yes, though I flatter myself a little, at least in part to live again. It was you who told me, after all, that you had "never felt the grace / that I have felt in your embrace", (Yes, I purposely pick the line I can believe the least)
We were together for four months; we've now been apart for five.
I have not been kissed - or had any romantic/sexual contact (cuddling, touch of a cheek, anything) for two months.
I have not had sex for three months.
You will be gone for another month.
Getting low is becoming more common. I'm falling quite behind in my classes. Speech in particular worries me. I feel sick inside most of the time. But listen to me, moaning away.
I have a new friend who seems to be a gift from the Goddess herself. Such an open soul I've never known. I hope the fact that I trust her instinctively will not come back to bite me.
I'm vetting more and more into the artist side of my nature, though heaven knows that doesn't help with my utter lack of talent! It gives me a sense of accomplishment when it feels like I'm fucking everything else up.
I hope to get back on track with my classes by monday. This means I have to read at least one chapter of history, do my spanish homework. write the first and second draft of a spanish composition and find time to have someone from my class fill out the correction sheet of the rough draft, read the intro and assignment for my 101 history class, and look into the next math chapter.
I'm so ashamed of myself for the last two weeks, though I keep reminding myself that so far I'm doing just fine in all my classes, and that I still seem to have things well in hand.
To add to that, the need for a job is becoming increasingly pressing, and neither of the places I tried called back, though I know both were looking. I don't understand that. Meh.
The pressure's mounting higher and higher, it's all my fault, I feel completely alone, and I don't think I'm going to enjoy this weekend back home which I've looked forward to for so long.
I'm just going to have to tell myself that tomorrow is my day off. After tomorrow, I will finish up my spanish and do the first draft on Saturday. I will do the second draft if I have time, and I will also make a copy of the student correction questions and have my spanish buddy fill them out. I will finish the speech assignments and figure out what day I present.
Now that I know that you are reading these, I feel the need to say something to you, rather than just ranting through whatever thoughts are gnawing away at my brain, but I don't know what to say. I miss you so much that my mind refuses to even try to comprehend it. I remember us in our little alternate universe, and I want to cry because I don't know that I'll ever have that again. We were so happy, even fighting, even miserable I was happy because I could touch you and see you and the worst fight we ever had in person is better than the best night we've had on the phone. Perhaps you'll return. You are adamant on that point, though even you refuse to guarantee when. I hope that you do, because your absence is felt. But more than that, I hope that when you go off on your silent meditiation of the ocean you'll rediscover your love for me, not the memory of it but its reality, the feeling that drove you to walk across the valley, to risk your equilibrium, and yes, though I flatter myself a little, at least in part to live again. It was you who told me, after all, that you had "never felt the grace / that I have felt in your embrace", (Yes, I purposely pick the line I can believe the least)