More refresh - July 2002
July 2002
Humans were not designed to be solitary creatures. And when you have my mind, my chemicals, my hormones... you get me. You get this insanity that no one can deal with. you get the intensity to no one can touch. you get me wrapping myself inside your fucking skin and rubbing my soul along yours until I am content with the world. You get me raging, violent, scaring my friends, putting off this energy that makes people step back. You get me wanting so desperately not to be alone, just hunting out random males, fucking them, fucking one night stands, just for the illusion of being with someone. Just for the illusion that someone loves me, that sex is actually a sacred act. That I am useful, that I am with someone who adores me, who I can devote/worship/adore/love entirely. Someone that will stick by me... someone who I can have six kids with and live in a one bedroom apartment with cockroaches everywhere on two old matresses, like Joel and I used to joke about but I had forgotten until now.
"Feeling stupid about your emotions is just fucked up."
This is the second time I've had to reboot the computer so I could rant/write in here. ya, fear me. For I feel more than you ever could, than you ever would. I am intensity. I am a lightening storm in a human female body. And that scares the lot of you.
I'm becoming the man I want. Someone with a decent amount of sexually experience. An artist. A fighter. A predatory. Someone who can massage. Someone who has a bit of a reputation. Someone with tattoos and piercings. Someone with a dark sense of humor. An atheist. An introspective person. A person who rarely drinks, never smokes. Did drugs, doesn't anymore. Someone with experience. Someone who has been through a lot, but is recovering. Someone who drives, is a fast driver, loves road trips and driving with their windows down day or night with music blasting on the freeway.
Did I create a part of me that loves the darker side of life, the disasterous side of life, just so I could cope with being shoved down time and time again? It's quite possible... It's very possible. I wonder what would happen if my dreams and hopes did come true...
"I don't know if I'm getting better or just used to the pain."
"And she looks out the window and sees her chihuahua hanging ontop the plane's wing, clinging for dear life. And what was in it's mouth? That's right! The ladder!"
"That journal is only what you thought/felt at a certain time and what you felt like writing, it is not you."
Reading a book by Laurell K. Hamilton. A line in it caught my eye. Where it was said to the main character that she was afraid to leave her ruthless boyfriend because she was scared of losing a mate even colder than her.
Humans were not designed to be solitary creatures. And when you have my mind, my chemicals, my hormones... you get me. You get this insanity that no one can deal with. you get the intensity to no one can touch. you get me wrapping myself inside your fucking skin and rubbing my soul along yours until I am content with the world. You get me raging, violent, scaring my friends, putting off this energy that makes people step back. You get me wanting so desperately not to be alone, just hunting out random males, fucking them, fucking one night stands, just for the illusion of being with someone. Just for the illusion that someone loves me, that sex is actually a sacred act. That I am useful, that I am with someone who adores me, who I can devote/worship/adore/love entirely. Someone that will stick by me... someone who I can have six kids with and live in a one bedroom apartment with cockroaches everywhere on two old matresses, like Joel and I used to joke about but I had forgotten until now.
"Feeling stupid about your emotions is just fucked up."
This is the second time I've had to reboot the computer so I could rant/write in here. ya, fear me. For I feel more than you ever could, than you ever would. I am intensity. I am a lightening storm in a human female body. And that scares the lot of you.
I'm becoming the man I want. Someone with a decent amount of sexually experience. An artist. A fighter. A predatory. Someone who can massage. Someone who has a bit of a reputation. Someone with tattoos and piercings. Someone with a dark sense of humor. An atheist. An introspective person. A person who rarely drinks, never smokes. Did drugs, doesn't anymore. Someone with experience. Someone who has been through a lot, but is recovering. Someone who drives, is a fast driver, loves road trips and driving with their windows down day or night with music blasting on the freeway.
Did I create a part of me that loves the darker side of life, the disasterous side of life, just so I could cope with being shoved down time and time again? It's quite possible... It's very possible. I wonder what would happen if my dreams and hopes did come true...
"I don't know if I'm getting better or just used to the pain."
"And she looks out the window and sees her chihuahua hanging ontop the plane's wing, clinging for dear life. And what was in it's mouth? That's right! The ladder!"
"That journal is only what you thought/felt at a certain time and what you felt like writing, it is not you."
Reading a book by Laurell K. Hamilton. A line in it caught my eye. Where it was said to the main character that she was afraid to leave her ruthless boyfriend because she was scared of losing a mate even colder than her.