(no subject)
its not often that I am struck by an urge to share...
but with two beers in me, having watched my sister her best friend and the 'tall guy' get smashed... somehow I am struck. Waffles the cat is sitting next to me... and he has been re-cristened Byron in the hopes that he will grow to resemble some of the intelligence of Byron rather than the vacancy of a waffle.
My mother is drop-dead set that by the end of the week, Byron will be gone. I am quietly upset. In the spirit of the child I have never ceased to be, I have given some part of my heart to this clingy little chit and I shall be quite sad to see him go. Worse, we can't find him a home so he'll probably be going to a pound... which I understand, in some part of me. He has managed to completely screw up the house in sort of a societal sense. Mea has gone back to being manically neurotic, Lily is having a meltdown in her own quiet way, and my parents can't handle dealing with it all.
But he speaks in squeaks.
This evening the 'tall guy' asked me, in his drunken way, what Meg meant when she said that I was asexual. For probably the fourth time in my existance I was forced to attempt to explain myself to someone else.... someone who could not be told 'Ien is just Ien' because he'd no concept of it. It put a small sliver of doubt into my mind, a small note that I should really attempt to address the recent hesitations that have been plaguing me. I find it unneccessary that I should 'sort myself out', but I would at least like for my mind to be at ease with it.
Then of course comes the small doubt creeping up on me that asks whether that, and essentially my entire personality, are coping mechanisms that allow me to feel as if I were at peace with myself when in truth I am attempting to ignore that society at large finds me repulsive.
I feel as if this is turning into something reminicent of a drunken purging session, and I am by no means drunk. My mind is roiling.
I shall quiet myself with sleep and see if it cannot alay my fears for the time being.
Ien
but with two beers in me, having watched my sister her best friend and the 'tall guy' get smashed... somehow I am struck. Waffles the cat is sitting next to me... and he has been re-cristened Byron in the hopes that he will grow to resemble some of the intelligence of Byron rather than the vacancy of a waffle.
My mother is drop-dead set that by the end of the week, Byron will be gone. I am quietly upset. In the spirit of the child I have never ceased to be, I have given some part of my heart to this clingy little chit and I shall be quite sad to see him go. Worse, we can't find him a home so he'll probably be going to a pound... which I understand, in some part of me. He has managed to completely screw up the house in sort of a societal sense. Mea has gone back to being manically neurotic, Lily is having a meltdown in her own quiet way, and my parents can't handle dealing with it all.
But he speaks in squeaks.
This evening the 'tall guy' asked me, in his drunken way, what Meg meant when she said that I was asexual. For probably the fourth time in my existance I was forced to attempt to explain myself to someone else.... someone who could not be told 'Ien is just Ien' because he'd no concept of it. It put a small sliver of doubt into my mind, a small note that I should really attempt to address the recent hesitations that have been plaguing me. I find it unneccessary that I should 'sort myself out', but I would at least like for my mind to be at ease with it.
Then of course comes the small doubt creeping up on me that asks whether that, and essentially my entire personality, are coping mechanisms that allow me to feel as if I were at peace with myself when in truth I am attempting to ignore that society at large finds me repulsive.
I feel as if this is turning into something reminicent of a drunken purging session, and I am by no means drunk. My mind is roiling.
I shall quiet myself with sleep and see if it cannot alay my fears for the time being.
Ien