Laundry
Ok, that list I made before? Yea. Started it. I ended up realizing I wanted every piece of clothing, etc washed. It was really a load or two of laundry, now it's me seriously trying to wash anything and everything. It's obsessive. It's ok, it's making things "cleaner." Now if only I would get around to vaccuming...I hate it. HATE.
My internet was down all fucking day. I finally figured out the problem, thankfully but it was irritating. My friend Adam posted this really beautiful poem by e.e. cummings on his blog today and I love it. I wish I was writing still, or if I was that I could show people. I'm not able to show my own anymore. And never, ever, the published. Never. Not yet.
I guess there isn't much to say tonight. Really. I'm not talking about the "situation" and I'm not talking about "legal stuff" and I'm not talking about the things that are bothering me. I'm not talking about this person I care a lot about, partially for fear of writing it down - it's permanence. Plus, it's likely that I will jinx it or things will not go through. It's one of those right time and place things. I hate those. Have I mentioned how irritating that my life boils down to this sort of redundancy? Yea.
It's putting a damper my ability to say something that is not contrived. I feel as though my words are failing me. Maybe I'm hiding. That's not a maybe. We all KNOW I'm hiding. I'm in my shell right now. It's not even cozy exactly, but my heart is opening again, and people are getting in. Then I realize that I don't want them to. There are males that have freaked me out recently. Really freaked me out, and scared me almost. One is psychotic and the other has some drug/alcohol problems that really really are invasive. The fact that I'm doing better...that I've had my fist simple (yes simple is all I will say) male interaction with my body, er, face is a good step. BUT, I'm still having trouble with all these other people. I'm not sure how to let people in and how far...when to push away and how to tell people to piss off. Without attracting the psychotic stalking, angry, abusive rebuttal.
Now I also realize people read this crap I write. I did not think anyone paid attention and apparently they do. They really do. They meaning not just one and that feels odd. I want to be perfectly honest on here, but I also don't want to shut out the idea of people reading my truth. Sometimes it is much easier for me to write what I'm thinking and feeling down so that I don't have to really say it. Or, maybe that I just don't want to face the critics right now. I don't want a review, good or bad. I just want to be. Yet that's why I'm stuck with this motto, although it's not a motto...it's just a thought that runs permanently through my mind. What once was "I'm failing at life" is now "I'm not participating in life." So by just being, as it were, I'm stifling myself from reaching out and doing something. To touch. To breath. To live. To do more than exist. To effect. I sometimes think it's meaningless because I've already touched the people I'm going to, I've lived through this crap, and there's not much else out there. I don't know that I will ever find someone who wants to share with me, truly. In every way. I haven't had great friends, and now it's clear to me that my life has been one of loneliness with random bits of content. Rather than going through lonely spells, I've gone through content spells, busy spells, loving spells. Funnily enough, I'm content right now, not depressed...just feeling useless to myself and not contributing to life. I "know" that a month ago I was worse and I'm much better, but it feels so slow. I don't wish this upon anyone.
And on that note, I am not a failure. I'm dealing. I just want to hit the fast forward button. I suppose I might miss out on the little victories by doing that, but it would really help with the lack of momentum most weeks are. I need friends. I need friends that I spend time with that don't hurt me or annoy me. I need friends I can call up with and hang out on a week night...my weekends are full all the time.
With that, I bid farewell this evening...
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My internet was down all fucking day. I finally figured out the problem, thankfully but it was irritating. My friend Adam posted this really beautiful poem by e.e. cummings on his blog today and I love it. I wish I was writing still, or if I was that I could show people. I'm not able to show my own anymore. And never, ever, the published. Never. Not yet.
I guess there isn't much to say tonight. Really. I'm not talking about the "situation" and I'm not talking about "legal stuff" and I'm not talking about the things that are bothering me. I'm not talking about this person I care a lot about, partially for fear of writing it down - it's permanence. Plus, it's likely that I will jinx it or things will not go through. It's one of those right time and place things. I hate those. Have I mentioned how irritating that my life boils down to this sort of redundancy? Yea.
It's putting a damper my ability to say something that is not contrived. I feel as though my words are failing me. Maybe I'm hiding. That's not a maybe. We all KNOW I'm hiding. I'm in my shell right now. It's not even cozy exactly, but my heart is opening again, and people are getting in. Then I realize that I don't want them to. There are males that have freaked me out recently. Really freaked me out, and scared me almost. One is psychotic and the other has some drug/alcohol problems that really really are invasive. The fact that I'm doing better...that I've had my fist simple (yes simple is all I will say) male interaction with my body, er, face is a good step. BUT, I'm still having trouble with all these other people. I'm not sure how to let people in and how far...when to push away and how to tell people to piss off. Without attracting the psychotic stalking, angry, abusive rebuttal.
Now I also realize people read this crap I write. I did not think anyone paid attention and apparently they do. They really do. They meaning not just one and that feels odd. I want to be perfectly honest on here, but I also don't want to shut out the idea of people reading my truth. Sometimes it is much easier for me to write what I'm thinking and feeling down so that I don't have to really say it. Or, maybe that I just don't want to face the critics right now. I don't want a review, good or bad. I just want to be. Yet that's why I'm stuck with this motto, although it's not a motto...it's just a thought that runs permanently through my mind. What once was "I'm failing at life" is now "I'm not participating in life." So by just being, as it were, I'm stifling myself from reaching out and doing something. To touch. To breath. To live. To do more than exist. To effect. I sometimes think it's meaningless because I've already touched the people I'm going to, I've lived through this crap, and there's not much else out there. I don't know that I will ever find someone who wants to share with me, truly. In every way. I haven't had great friends, and now it's clear to me that my life has been one of loneliness with random bits of content. Rather than going through lonely spells, I've gone through content spells, busy spells, loving spells. Funnily enough, I'm content right now, not depressed...just feeling useless to myself and not contributing to life. I "know" that a month ago I was worse and I'm much better, but it feels so slow. I don't wish this upon anyone.
And on that note, I am not a failure. I'm dealing. I just want to hit the fast forward button. I suppose I might miss out on the little victories by doing that, but it would really help with the lack of momentum most weeks are. I need friends. I need friends that I spend time with that don't hurt me or annoy me. I need friends I can call up with and hang out on a week night...my weekends are full all the time.
With that, I bid farewell this evening...
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