"You're getting warm...
You're getting warm
You're getting warmer oh
Did you plan this all along?
Did you care if it was wrong?
Who's getting warmer
Now that I'm gone?"
This is my unhappy post. I will write a happy one for the rest of the world.
The world is fucking cold. Oh gods how I dislike the cold.
Today I tidied. I sorted all manner of things including old spells no longer needed, underwear I don't like, art supplies I don't use, stuff in general. Then I went to Matt's room and sorted through a couple of his boxes and lifted all the pictures I could find of me and the old poems and valentine cards as well.
I'm aware I don't have the right; but currently I don't think he does either. We no longer own each other, therefore no prior written claim or image is deserved. (Also I know Matt keeps this box of memory-trinkets from exes and I have a great aversion to ending up in it. I'd rather be absent thanks.)
My views on love are kinda skewed at the moment and I've no idea if they'll straighten out. Because love doesn't last forever, because it is such a flimsy and fragile thing I now find putting it into words - or gods forbid writing - anathema. Because love will eventually change, prove false, die or fade I feel it should remain unacknowledged. That's illogical, certainly. It's like saying 'everything eventually leaves or dies, therefore I'll ignore people as much as possible'. Also I have grave doubts that any fond close attachment I feel for anyone is love. How do I fucking know? Maybe I just care for them and fancy a shag? Maybe in fact that's all love is, romantically speaking, and all the poetry is just rubbish made up by a bunch of emo drama queens? Feh. Jez tells me he loves me and I don't know whether to be pleased or not. Do I love him in return? Isn't it going to hurt like a bastard and feel like a betrayal of every endearment ever uttered when he decides he no longer loves me? Blergh.
On saturday Matt couldn't wait for me to leave the flat. He had visitors I think (judging from the number of plates and also the amount of cake eaten). I don't know who they were or why they had cake. In the eve he was absent and didn't come back 'til 3 or later. Today he wanted to know how my weekend had gone, what was going on in my life etc. When asked about his weekend he said he'd 'caught up with some old friends' and that was that. I really do not understand why he continues to talk to me - I find it... not insulting exactly, but it fucking stings that he will say words to me of such empty meaning - I'd rather he didn't bother.
I also fear I am like the bearable but unwanted guest that never leaves at Goblin Town. I should stay away for a week and leave them to their own lives, but I doubt I have the fortitude. Also here is like being back at uni in the first year. It gets dark and the world closes in: there are people around you in the same building, but you have no connection with them, cannot talk to them other than meaningless pleasantries as you hold your door open. It is very lonely. That's why I run away to Goblin Town. But it's starting to follow me there. I sit in the front room and realise I'm gatecrashing for the Nth-hundred time and I do not belong... and the distance and the cold starts to grow and spread like icicles on a window pane.
I don't know what I will do when they all go off to Cornwall for their holiday.
I don't know how I will feel when Matt leaves before winterfest. (He'd better not have got me any gift at all - I really could not stand the perfect hollowness of it.)
I don't know how things will be when they return from Cornwall.
I feel outside of every circle, displaced and dispossessed while the world turns and things I cannot fix or control mount up. Ash feels the same unfortunately, so ZG is not an escape. Also NPCing is occasionally no fun at all.
It's very cold. I do not think I care for winter any more.
You're getting warmer oh
Did you plan this all along?
Did you care if it was wrong?
Who's getting warmer
Now that I'm gone?"
This is my unhappy post. I will write a happy one for the rest of the world.
The world is fucking cold. Oh gods how I dislike the cold.
Today I tidied. I sorted all manner of things including old spells no longer needed, underwear I don't like, art supplies I don't use, stuff in general. Then I went to Matt's room and sorted through a couple of his boxes and lifted all the pictures I could find of me and the old poems and valentine cards as well.
I'm aware I don't have the right; but currently I don't think he does either. We no longer own each other, therefore no prior written claim or image is deserved. (Also I know Matt keeps this box of memory-trinkets from exes and I have a great aversion to ending up in it. I'd rather be absent thanks.)
My views on love are kinda skewed at the moment and I've no idea if they'll straighten out. Because love doesn't last forever, because it is such a flimsy and fragile thing I now find putting it into words - or gods forbid writing - anathema. Because love will eventually change, prove false, die or fade I feel it should remain unacknowledged. That's illogical, certainly. It's like saying 'everything eventually leaves or dies, therefore I'll ignore people as much as possible'. Also I have grave doubts that any fond close attachment I feel for anyone is love. How do I fucking know? Maybe I just care for them and fancy a shag? Maybe in fact that's all love is, romantically speaking, and all the poetry is just rubbish made up by a bunch of emo drama queens? Feh. Jez tells me he loves me and I don't know whether to be pleased or not. Do I love him in return? Isn't it going to hurt like a bastard and feel like a betrayal of every endearment ever uttered when he decides he no longer loves me? Blergh.
On saturday Matt couldn't wait for me to leave the flat. He had visitors I think (judging from the number of plates and also the amount of cake eaten). I don't know who they were or why they had cake. In the eve he was absent and didn't come back 'til 3 or later. Today he wanted to know how my weekend had gone, what was going on in my life etc. When asked about his weekend he said he'd 'caught up with some old friends' and that was that. I really do not understand why he continues to talk to me - I find it... not insulting exactly, but it fucking stings that he will say words to me of such empty meaning - I'd rather he didn't bother.
I also fear I am like the bearable but unwanted guest that never leaves at Goblin Town. I should stay away for a week and leave them to their own lives, but I doubt I have the fortitude. Also here is like being back at uni in the first year. It gets dark and the world closes in: there are people around you in the same building, but you have no connection with them, cannot talk to them other than meaningless pleasantries as you hold your door open. It is very lonely. That's why I run away to Goblin Town. But it's starting to follow me there. I sit in the front room and realise I'm gatecrashing for the Nth-hundred time and I do not belong... and the distance and the cold starts to grow and spread like icicles on a window pane.
I don't know what I will do when they all go off to Cornwall for their holiday.
I don't know how I will feel when Matt leaves before winterfest. (He'd better not have got me any gift at all - I really could not stand the perfect hollowness of it.)
I don't know how things will be when they return from Cornwall.
I feel outside of every circle, displaced and dispossessed while the world turns and things I cannot fix or control mount up. Ash feels the same unfortunately, so ZG is not an escape. Also NPCing is occasionally no fun at all.
It's very cold. I do not think I care for winter any more.