(no subject)
Rubbing my forehead like a .... thing that rubs its forehead.
I'm sitting here, wearing a red-and-white checked gingham dress...
No, I'm not.
I'm sitting here, reading an old livejournal of an old friend's on the internets, and laughing for five hours at the comicals... shut the fuck up and stop judging me and I don't even care anyway because no one even reads this one anymore and furthermore...!
Seriously, looking back, I feel a lot saner than I used to feel. This doesn't mean I am, of course,
OH SHIT I HAVE HOT CHOCOLATE
WHAT
WHAT THE HOLY FUCK
THIS IS AWESOME
So anyway, a lot saner. It is better for me, and I really do hope it's better for other people and I'm not living in a happy delusion whilst destroying everything in my path. I mean, that would be lame and horrible. It would totally fuck up this thing I'm trying to have going here. With my life and all.
These things are mostly for my benefit, I mean, I put them on the internet for convenience and I also don't care if someone else reads it.
I would like to translate this feeling.
It is like pigeons.
They are very beautiful.
Spending time alone and in the cold, I figured out what I actually need, what the priorities are all about.
And this person that I know won't know for a while, probably, how deeply the emotions connected to them run, and how long my neural pathways have been subtly altered by their presence, and how much I remember and what I think about the truth. How it doesn't matter what kind of state I am in, whenever I see them, those neural pathways connect before anything else can happen and invariably they cause fantastic chemical reactions and spasms of face muscles that arrange my features in what I imagine, if I think about it, to be some kind of goofy wide grin. How that kind of brain program is integral to the system, it doesn't go away. It's there forever. It's like some peoples' visual response to cockroaches: before the image of a cockroach is even processed in the visual cortex, fear response is induced and the brain panics automatically. Except, you know, something totally different from panicking.
How some concepts that used to seem unfathomable somehow make sense to me now. And I always wanted them to.
But really, that's ok. I can tell them later.