The Noodle in God's Stew

 

 

Current mood:  loved

 

I brought with me to rehab a picture of my best friend and myself in high school, having a blast at the beach on a class trip, grinning and hugging, signed by her with "Thanks for never letting us find the universal truth!"

This was because we used to interpret the symbolism in some novel no end in high school English class, and sack the best grades for it too, even though we were bullshitting out of our ears the entire time. We knew what the teacher wanted to hear, we could see God or the Devil in each paragraph, hell we could have created our own personal witch hunt between the pages of a Roald Dahl story if we had set our minds to it I'm sure :D The universal truth is supposedly contained in Conrad's Heart of Darkness, but luckily, we never bothered to discover it, we just worked our way around it and back out of the book in record time, as usual (nice work H., we sure did rule back then, I love and miss you :P)

She reminded me the other day that I once said "mankind is just a noodle in God's stew". I must have been 15 or so and was probably going through the "If a tree falls in the forest and there's no one around to hear it fall, how do we know it makes a noise?" phase. But she remembered and carried my comment around with her across oceans and valleys for over 15 more years, and I can't help but smile a child's goofy smile every time I think back on the way we were.

I was aware then, much more capable than now to laugh at myself and my insignificance. Now when I do so it is strained and sarcastic and self-important, my cynicism back then was much more light-hearted (if it's possible to use those two words together… oh wait, I believe that is a classic oxymoron, thanks Mrs. M :P)

Anyways, the only point to this story is that I miss my high school a little, I miss having a few less things to worry about, I miss the straightforward simplicity of childhood friendships, I miss leaning on D. L. M.'s shoulder and feeling like I was on top of the world because he let me slide up close to him and I didn't know lines like "he's just not that into you" or terms like "unhappy endings" existed in reality yet. I still carried the kind of idealistic teenage hope that dreams of utopia and changing the world. And of true love and Cinderella's prince and more to the point the awesome white horse he rode (actually, I was more of a Winnetou's girl, but you catch my drift). Hell, we all did, if you didn't think anything was possible as a kid you'd never make it through puberty!

It wasn't all happy or fun, I already felt like a blubbering, misunderstood volcano back then and had trouble keeping a lid on it. I am now discovering I may have had ADD since childhood, just not the hyperactive kind, more the "I follow 84 separate but parallel trains of thought in my head at all times and sometimes it's a little burdening cause I don't know where to direct them all to since they run out of room but not steam and then it hurts my tiny brain" kind. I was loud and attention-seeking around people and quietly thoughtful on my own, much as I am now, and had my head in the clouds and my nose in a book all the time because that's where the dreams were, that's where the fantasies flew and my imagination was free and uninhibited. I'd lose myself in those worlds I created with the help of fanciful fiction and live in them whenever I was alone which I suppose was often. It didn't feel that way then, but it would explain my behavior now. On the one hand I am hyper-sensitive to other people's emotions and so self-observant that I dissociate incessantly, and on the other hand my mind completely disregards my surroundings because the outside stimuli are too much for it. Something like that. Have I mentioned that my typing is dyslexic since 4 or 5 antidepressants ago? My brain skips sometimes, and I can watch and feel it skipping and I can keep up with myself, but really, no one else knows where the hell I am and what I'm doing there, it gets a little lonely, which I believe I was in school as well if I'm totally honest about the "good old days".

My fabulous friend H. now has two absolutely stunning children and a wonderful husband, she's one of the hardest working research scientists and most dedicated mothers I'll ever know and I can't think of anyone who deserves that more than she does. She survived months of regular panic attacks she felt she couldn't share with anyone back when she was 18, she's been discriminated against and rose to professor in record time despite of it, she beat the crap out of an asshole who tried to abuse her, she went through very taxing and worrying pregnancies as well as a brain tumor scare in addition to the usual deaths and illnesses in the family, and she STILL bikes to work in winter. I think she's a little nuts, but that's ok coming from me, isn't it?? :P Just so you know beautiful, I'm hoping to be just like you when I finally decide not to ever grow up!!!

And so it goes…and this is what it feels like to be a noodle :·)

Freakin' Quizzes

Current mood:  impressed

So this stupid thing has like 5 questions and is an EXACT description of me... that's just frrrreaky - these people should write horo(r)scopes for a living :·P

You Have a Choleric Temperament

You are a person of great enthusiasm - easily excited by many things. Unsatisfied by the ordinary, you are reaching for an epic, extraordinary life. You want the best. The best life. The best love. The best reputation. You posses a sharp and keen intellect. Your mind is your primary weapon. Strong willed, nothing can keep you down. Your energy can break down any wall. You're an instantly passionate person - and this passion gives you an intoxicating power over others. At your worst, you are a narcissist. Full of yourself and even proud of your faults. Stubborn and opinionated, you know what you think is right. End of discussion. A bit of a misanthrope, you often see others as weak, ignorant, and inferior.

What Temperament Are You?

Blogthings: Cheaper Than a Therapist

St. Nikolaus

Current mood:  blank

This is going to be a little more in the style of Jennifer's amazing blog entries... I'm just going to tell you about my day...

This morning I fell asleep around 7:30am as usual. I set the alarm for 14:00 because I was supposed to see a doctor at 15:30 and I don't always want to get out of bed. Ok, I never want to get out of bed again, but I wanted to go see the doctor and I already moved the appointment before, so today I went.

It was worth it because I got to see a charming street in town I didn't know existed. It's below the train station, I passed a little bit of red light district and thought "funny place for a psychiatrist, but then again, maybe this is the best place for business...", but then I turned a corner and there was this wonderful road with a comic books shop, my favorite international travel agency (STA Travel, for youths of ALL ages :P), a few antiques dealers, a few deco and art stores, a ski and snowboard shop, and a supermarket. A young man walked up to me and said hello and asked me my name and told me I was "tres jolie". I thanked him for being nice to me although I didn't understand why, I am pale and look hollow and my eyes don't sparkle anymore. But he was nice. A little unkempt and flaky, but I like men like that, unless it's at a formal wedding, then groomed to the nines is better. And it was nice to discover another corner of Lausanne, I love this town. It is so small and yet never boring and never bland, and the people leave you your anonymity if you wish it. And dog poop all over. You can tell you're not in the German part of the country here...o_0.

After the doctor, who didn't want to do much about my situation because I may be in the clinic come Monday, I went into one of the home deco shops with all these trinkets and lamps and toasters and teddy bears and holiday ornaments, and I saw a bistro chair and table that were adorable, and I was glad to see something I would like for my apartment, but I don't have much money right now, so I better wait.

When my ex left he took everything, even the lightbulbs. Like the Grinch, just more brown than green. So I can finally decorate the way I want, but due to an extended identity crisis I am not quite sure what that is. So I am looking at everything and trying to "feel" it in my apartment. So far I don't feel so much. And when I do it tends to be expensive. Hehe, that's me in a nutshell :D

You know his presence in this apartment still bothers me. I dislike my favorite breakfast mug now because I bought it and used it with a matching one for him here. And there are no thrift shops in this country, so I don't know where to donate it to. And I almost cannot stand IKEA (my true religion) anymore because of the hours I spent there trying to get everything just right to suit both our tastes and meet the budget, and I did, successfully, and now I want no more reminders of the time I spent here with him. I want to move forward and towards my personality, and not the average joe style of decorating we and all our friends had. I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I am certainly not average either. I saw a 60's style plastic diner table and chair a while ago. That would be cool. That would be more like me. I made a mistake buying a few pieces of furniture quickly so that I would have something to sit on and a shelf for my books, I bought what I was used to, and it's cute, but not what I really want long term anymore I think.

But it's ok, I didn't spend too much money because I couldn't anyways. I will take it slow. Not my style but I am supposed to change some things. Necessity is the mother of invention. We will see what I come up with. The bistro table and chair were bright pink and green by the way, there was even a matching lamp and toaster. If my kitchen weren't so huge that it requires a large table, it would be perfect. Oh... I could do something fabulous, I could get two or three different style bistro chairs and tables couldn't I?? Make a little cafe in my kitchen? It would certainly look wonderful, but it is too impractical. I need a large table for sorting mail and stacking boxes of breakfast cereal to look at.

In the deco shop I wanted to treat myself to a teddy bear, but everything in the store that wasn't furniture cost exactly 24 CHF and that creeped me out after a while, so I left because I was angry with my wish to spend money. I went to the Post Office and finally faxed my insurance policy to the clinic. I don't have a fax machine anymore even though I got one for Christmas a few years ago because the ex took it. So I paid 8 CHF to send two pages of fax. I also spent 50 CHF on a new prepaid SIM card which allows international calls to fixed and cell phones for 39 Rappen (0.39 CHF) a minute, which is cheaper than my normal provider. The SIM was 9 CHF and 50 CHF were for phone credit while I'm in the hostpital. I want to be able to call my friends in a crisis and not have to hang up after 10 minutes. I will have a phone in my room in the clinic. We each have our own rooms, the ones with private insurance have a balcony. I thought that was funny. Very Swiss :P

I remembered to ask for one of those stickers that say "No advertisements please" for my mailbox at the Post Office, but they said they don't have them, only supermarkets do. I remembered to walk the long way home and pass by the supermarket for some milk but I forgot to look for the sticker. I also went to the book store to find some more nice books to read before I fall asleep at the hospital but they were closing early for a conference. I was disappointed because I love the atmosphere in the book store, it's very soothing.

I went to Starbucks for a coffee and some cake to take home for later and a woman (I won't say lady) had her lapdog up ON a table licking crumbs off of it. I love dogs, I have two girl dogs, but I still don't want their butts and feet where I eat. I don't even want my feet and butt where I eat, and I know where mine have been o_0. But a strange dog's weiner where I place my muffin? No. (Oh my, I wasn't even trying to be crude, sorry, no pun intended) I asked the barista if it was policy to allow that, and as soon as I asked the entire line of French women started going off at how "formidable" it is to be so vulgar. "C'est pas prop!" They are so cute when they get all worked up and FRENCH, they wave their hands around and their voices go up and down like waves and dancing with words. I smiled to myself over the whole incident.

I learned some new French today from a screaming child, because he kept repeating himself so I had time to figure out what he was saying and what it meant. Apparently you can say "Gard!" instead of "Regard!" in slang, it means "Look!". I didn't know that. Kids are useful that way, they speak more clearly and simply, it's easier to copy them. So thanks!

After Starbucks I was in the market place for a bit, among all the Christmas crafts booths, and I realized it's Nikolaus today. The children and tourists were all surrounding St. Nikolaus and Ruprecht and the donkey, I took photos for a few of them and one on my cell phone for me since my digital camera broke a while ago. The married man who wanted me in the last clinic called me and asked me if I was ok. He said he had dreamt about me and also been worried and that I could call him anytime if I needed him. Well I said sure but I can't. He has a family and I don't want to pour coal on that fire. It was his choice to pursue me but I will not egg him on, and I don't think he ever really wanted me anyways, just an escape, like I do. I understand but I don't approve.

A friend called me later, she wants to see me in Zurich and then drive me to the clinic on Monday. I said I have to speak with my stupid family because they haven't told me whether they will take my dogs or not. I don't know why they cannot give straightforward answers, it makes me anxious because it's like they are always waiting for a better offer to come along. None of them will ever commit to a date or plan of action. I don't like people like that much. Say what you mean and mean what you say please, other people depend on you sometimes. And don't think I don't feel how I am second best to everyone else in your life. Melinda is bipolar, so she understands things. She's a pill like me, but she loves me and she loves to help people, so she's not that kind of a pill once you know her. But people don't take the time.

My bath tonight didn't get rid of my headache and neither did the pain killers, but that's not unusual. The desk I sit at is at the wrong height for typing because it doesn't have proper table legs yet. I have to get some but for that I have to drive to IKEA and it's far and I get discouraged when I think of how far it is. I shouldn't think so much but my head does not have an off button. Neither does my heart, only my stomache.

This is too long so I will stop now. I think Jennifer's blogs are much better to read, so I will go visit her page again now. And Karen's too, Karen is another good woman. I put her at the top of my friend's list along with the other girl-friends. Ho's before bro's.

I had olives with garlic in the middle and a beer today, so cheers to that!

I wish I were a kid again or had a nice family so that Nikolaus would visit me again and tell me if I have been good or bad. We used to put shoes out in front of the door overnight for that, but I am afraid to risk it because they might be empty in the morning and then I will be as hollow as I look inside. I wanted to touch all the pretty lights and internalize them and take them home with me but I couldn't. Maybe I will go find my christmas lights in the basement, I hid those from Ramon before he left, but they leave black soot marks on the walls and then I will feel bad. Fairy lights are so pretty though, so maybe it's worth the risk. It will have to be soon though, I don't think I will be allowed to have 20 meters of wire in the clinic. I want fairy lights around my heart please, forever, thank you.

Thank you for listening. I hope Nikolaus brought you tangerines.

On Narcissism

Narcissism is a real b*tch, there's no way around it.

The original myth tells of Narcissus, a young man who passed a pool of water in the forest one afternoon and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the depths. He fell in love with his reflection and ended up either starving to death or drowning, I can't remember.

The point it, he fell in love with his reflection, not himself, this distinction is important, and suffered the loss of his life for it. As far as I know he didn't even realize he was killing himself.

The modern Narcissist has been defined by medical authorities looking to describe a personality disorder which harms its owner in the same way our friend Narcissus harmed himself. The obsession with one's image, with what one seems to be, with appearances with recognition of one's self, towards one's self is truly disorderly because it causes all kinds of mental and spiritual chaos despite its superficial rigidity.

Narcissist personalities are demanding to the extreme. Of everyone, most of all themselves. No one can live up to their expectations, they merely tolerate themselves and others. At the same time, Narcissist often live through others, find a purpose in helping and supporting another life they deem worthwhile. The latter tends not to be their own, due to aforementioned impossibly high standards.

What do I mean? Well let me give you an example: a Narcissist will kill herself simply to prove to herself that she is not a coward. Simply to measure up to her own standards and expectations. I know this because I have done it. Premeditated cutting myself for reasons I shall explain elsewhere and then when it came time to follow through, and I realized it hurt and that I didn't truly wish to die or suffer but rather only to be rescued, I couldn't stop. It was a matter of personal pride. Even though no one else was there, even though I could have stopped the bleeding and nursed the cuts and hidden what I had done, the thought never even crossed my mind. Instead I only felt an entire gulf of disappointment with myself, my cowardice, my susceptibily to biting off more than I can chew, my humanity. And so I lectured myself inwardly, clenched my jaw, grabbed the blade firmly and made a large long fast gashing motion across my wrist to avoid pain and finally hit that vein and get it over with already. It worked and I lost enough blood to fall unconscious. I risked dying just to prove to myself that I was willing and able, to not be a coward in my own eyes.

This wasn't every time I've hurt myself, but I remember being amazed at myself that particular time. There was satisfaction in it, but also the rude intrusion of reality, my reality, the extent of my obsession with my own character flaws, how strongly I want to almost physically excise them out of myself, nearly killing myself in the process without even realizing it because I'm so busy staring at the details of my reflection.

I wish understanding this would bring about a change in my situation or behavior. However it is simply another observation of myself to add to the image, another reason to despise my weaknesses, thus revolving around myself once again, in every tighter circles, until I spin myself nauseous and suffer from it by my own hand once again.

But then that is the nature of a circle, and that is the nature of life. There is nothing truly new is there? It has all been done before and will be done again, the basic ingredients to what constitutes life can and will never change, otherwise, it would no longer be "life" as we know it, but a different creature entirely.

I do love words and language, there is a sense in them. The definition of life by our language is rational, gives me a reason for the circle. It is such because we have defined it as such and we have defined it as such because it is so. Nice and neat, just the way I like it. Distracts me from the thunderstorm of chaos that rages in my mind. For a while at least, until I stop concentrating, stop controlling, stop focusing on my reflection, and once I stop looking I lose all hold on life and spin out of control, and not in a good way either.

So you see, there is a purpose to the narcissist personality. It keeps us from going crazy ;P

It's going to be another long night chasing ghosts isn't it? God I hope some of them are friendly tonight.....

Katie

Letting Go

Current mood:  calm

I don't think it's about dying anymore... I think it's about letting go of myself and letting go of fear.

Whenever those images or ideas slide into my head, the ones where I let the car spin out of control over a cliff (on the drive to Lausanne) or collide into something solid and send me hurtling out the windshield (driving late in Berlin), they play out in slow motion, like in a film.... all sound goes silent, and I see and feel myself flying, limp, violent but utterly peaceful in the quietness and finality of breaking every bone in my body and just being done. There is an episode of Charmed in which people's bodies die with their dreams of falling off a building and shattering on the ground, it feels like that - like a dream in which you know it's going to hurt, but it doesn't because it's a dream.

I don't want to set myself on fire or drink a liter of liqid plumber. I don't want to die at any cost. But I do want to face my fears and just let go, just once... fly and be limp as a rag hurtling through the air, just like a sail that goes limp when the wind dies down, or a plastic bag blowing across the desert. Just float on the breeze and not be afraid of the pain, not be afraid of the fear, not be afraid of being a coward, not have to care anymore, just once. Please.

So yeah, it's about fear. The fact that I could let go of it for just one moment, I know I could. The consequences would be damaging, but I am so tempted to feel it might be worth it. It's like the ultimate challenge, to face your fear of death, fear of being alone, to just laugh in it's face and let go, to drift and finally FLY, but without control, like sinking into a cloud and being suspended weightlessly by it.

I didn't drive to my clinic interview today, I was too afraid of the consequences, I think it was the right choice. I will go when someone is able to come with me, someone I can lean on a little during the ride and on the way back home, even if it's just for a little while. And then maybe it will be almost like letting go for a bit, as if I were allowed, just for a few moments... sailing on the breeze.

She who flies highest sees farthest after all...... and I'm smiling right now at the daydream of it  :·)

p.293 and the Space-Time-Continuum

Current mood:  impressed

p.293 of my copy of 'The Unnamable' by Samuel Beckett says :

"...The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? From time to time. There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps is liquefied brain. Perhaps happiness in any case has clean gone from my memory, assuming it was ever there..."

Liquefied brain.. the analogy kept me lamed by my thoughts for 40 minutes.

Emotions aren..t physically touchable, they are ..feelings.., one cannot see or measure them. And yet, a ..sense of touch.. employs the same word used for the effect of an emotion: ..I..m touched.., implying that feelings are in fact touchable, definable, graspable, and undeniably real. Often feelings are so strong they certainly would merit the description ..physical pain.. would they not? With your stomach cramped you head aching your blood throbbing your thoughts spinning, your ears swooshing, your chest tightening from a breaking soul... is all this not physical? When you lose something or someone you love does loss not hurt? And is such severe pain not physical?

It is beyond sadness. Sadness is relief for such pain, in sadness we can weep and those falling tears can be cleansing. And again, physical tears can be seen, touched, tasted.. they are the physical manifestation of sadness, and still the pain does not count as such physical from a wound. Liquefied brain would change that .. it would merit the shift in memory when we cry, would merit the sense of physical loss, the feeling that part of you is seeping out, drifting away, and you cannot contain it. And in such you would have proof of your emotion, proof of the strength of the thing, proof that it affects not only your core, but your mind as the ruler of all things.

Beckett..s image promises a spotless mind should we so chose to relieve ourselves of loss and sadness and memories. Liquefied brain, the stuff we are, running down our cheeks and into time, into that spatial void, existing forever as a piece of us, but no longer within our souls. Relief and measurable loss. If there were such a thing to measure and remove sadness perhaps we would never have to revisit memories. That is hope for the blemished mind.

Or perhaps our brains fill with memories, with happiness and unhappiness, and being physical and therefore finite, brains must be emptied when they become to full, and therefore we cry. This would remove us from the sense of soul and feeling, and become a chemistry experiment in which some input substances are aggressive or irritant, others soothing and warming, others merely acting as buffers for the rest to swim in.. and every so often a valve must be opened to release some of the pressure and products, and make way for new additions, so that the system doesn..t overflow or explode.

Whichever the answer, my brain seems endless in it..s liquidity and perhaps that is the only truth of the space time continuum and therefore our lives and the existence of our souls: it is endless.

20 Dollars*

Current mood:  hopeful

A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20 bill.


In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?"

Hands started going up.


He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this.

He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill.


He then asked, "Who still wants it?"

Still the hands were up in the air.


Well, he replied, "What if I do this?"

And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe.


He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty.

"Now, who still wants it?"

Still the hands went into the air.


"My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson.

No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20.


Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way.

We feel as though we are worthless.

But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value.

Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless and many (even who have not met you) LOVE you.

The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE.


You are special - Don't EVER forget it."

*thanks to my friend Kamama for this story

Fragility

My best friend Missy C has called me fragile... she says like a ballerina.. which is beautiful. And she loves butterflies so now I feel like one. Which is a beautiful thing to feel.

But then Nickelback's Far Away started playing. And for those of you who know, that's the song ... that's the song I tried to die to. I managed to slip into unconsciousness... blood streaming down the silly little mp3 player. That one and Photographs and Save Me. How predictably sad.

Why? Well because the album means something... speaks to my heart and all that superficial sh*t we say and only sometimes mean. But then everything means something to me. There is no rest from the significance of it all.

I feel far away. I am far away. And I am so fragile the draft from a summer breeze can knock me to the ground. Further even. Past the ground. And that's not so beatiful anymore. Romantic if you're not me.

My mind is escaping into watching myself as I would a leaf in the wind this time of year. I want to stroke it and leave it to be beautiful and colerful and fragile but alive forever. I want to feel like it is life.

I am too fragile and it's breaking my heart into 1000 pieces of flak. Every day. I want it to be an explosion like a star ... millions of glittering starlets shimmering into oblivion. That's how I'd like to go please. That's beautiful fragility.

I wish I were a star in the sky. A pretty one.

And I miss you, all of you. And I don't miss me. I want me to fly away from this body like the leaf and the breeze and the spinning stars.

Satisfaction of Sorrow

Current mood:  nauseated

There is a sort of self-defining satisfaction in spewing sorrow and regurgitating the sense of loss. It justifies the self-righteousness of cynicism and feeds our self-worth. A hunger as rich as spilled ink, starving for acclaim of its blackness. Reincarnating our regrets and pouring them through the filter of our memory, while denying their original truth. Ashamed... skewing... rekindling for approval and yet cowering under the magnitude of hurt.

The psyche knows only the familiar and can re-know only the familiar. Our time amounts to a singular experience, shapeshifting through the years, ultimately the same within the contained system that is our self.

I wonder why circles are so definitive of life. It must mean something, if I could only grasp it. Yet it would not be a circle if it were not rolling, evading, unstoppable and unpredictable, a chameleon forging the signature of a boomerang.

"To sleep perchance to dream." To dream perchance to wish...

Once Upon A Time

 

 

Current mood:  pensive

 

Once upon a time there was a boy named James. His daddy was very afraid of raising him and didn't think he could do it properly, so to hide his fear he tried to control James by telling him he was stupid and not a good little boy and by punching him. James' mother wanted to be a good mommy, but she didn't really know how either, so whenever something went wrong or she didn't know how to handle a situation she yelled at little James and threw things at him to hide her frustration. James wanted to be what his parents expected, so he acted like a bad little boy, even though his heart wasn't in it. Then he grew up and decided he'd rather be a good person, so he tried to be that for his friends, but he only knew how to love people who rejected him. He fell in love with a girl who made him feel inadequate, just like his daddy made him feel, but that's what he was used to so that's what he needed. Whenever a different girl started to like him or thought he was a good person at heart he became afraid and pushed her away. Whenever one of his guy friends called him to talk he pretended not to be at home or that he was too busy. He didn't know how to act around people who truly loved him, and he was convinced he could never live up to anyone's expectations, so he preferred to love from afar and never get too close so that he wouldn't have to be afraid. He already knew how to be lonely, so it was ok.

Once upon a time there was a girl named Hanna. She was a very good girl who always did what her parents expected of her. She was very responsible and took care of her baby sisters while her parents worked hard all day, every day. Hanna got really good grades at school and her parents loved her because she was smart like them. Hanna's parents taught her that honesty and responsibility and being considerate of others was really important. One day, when Hanna was just graduating from high school, she found out that her parents were inconsiderate and irresponsible, and that they were liars too. She didn't understand how people could pretend to be something they weren't and became very afraid of people in general. She thought that maybe it was her fault her parent's changed because she wasn't as good as they needed her to be, so she punished herself by hurting her body. She didn't eat and sometimes she even tried to punish herself for existing by dying. Her heart wasn't in it though, and she survived, but the hurt inside her was so strong that she had to keep hurting her body or it would tear her apart. She remained afraid of people, and believed she was unlovable, so whenever someone liked her she thought there was something wrong with them and pushed them away. She only made friends with people who needed her more than she needed them so she wouldn't have to be so afraid. She already knew how to be lonely from growing up while her parents were working all the time, so it was ok.

Once upon a time there was a boy named Johnny. He had brothers and sisters that he loved and he grew up wild and free. While being wild and free he discovered that there are a lot of bad people in the world, people who take advantage of you and people who are mean to others for no reason. It broke his heart. He was a sensitive soul and such a good person that he couldn't stand to see all the pain and suffering around him. He started to take drugs to forget how horrible the world he loved could be. He got into a lot of trouble because he was so frustrated and angry and felt so helpless, and the only person who believed he was still good at heart was his younger brother Rick. Rick bailed Johnny out of some pretty bad situations because he loved him and they trusted each other. Johnny saw how much he was hurting Rick by being bad and he felt like he was a burden to his family and the world in general because he didn't know how to be good anymore, only bad. So Johnny decided it would be better for everyone if he stopped existing, and he secretly also hoped that would make his heart stop hurting, so Johnny took his own life. He was used to being an oddball though, and he had to do what was best for everyone, that was his way, so it was ok. He was a good big brother.

Once upon a time there was a boy named Tom. His daddy was a very horrible man who sexually abused him as a baby. Tom was very afraid of men after that, so he couldn't make any proper friends. He only learned how to take advantage of people, so he took advantage of women for a long time because that's what he thought people did. He pretended to love them so they would let him sleep with them and then he left them crying. He always made sure to be with women who needed him somehow, so that he could hurt them but they couldn't hurt him. His heart wasn't in it though, so one day he decided to stop taking advantage of people. He was still really afraid, though, and he couldn't be with people too much. He had lots of nightmares and became very sick because his heart hurt so much his body hurt too. He took lots of medicine but that didn't help, so he tried drinking alcohol, and that helped a little. Sometimes it didn't help enough though, so he tried to stop existing. He almost died 3 times but somehow it wasn't his time, and he was saved. Over 50 years passed since the time his father hurt him but the nightmares didn't ever stop and Tom couldn't be happy with people, he was too afraid. He was used to being lonely though, so it was ok.

Once upon a time there was a young woman named Yvonne. She was really really skinny because she didn't eat. People thought she looked like a ghost. She got osteoporosis because she didn't get proper nutrients to keep herself healthy. She didn't really know why she didn't feel like eating, she just couldn't. She only knew that whenever she had a boyfriend and they got close enough to be serious she felt panicked and scared to death, so she ran away from them. She suspected that her father had done something bad to her when she was little, but she didn't really want to remember what it was. She wanted someone to care about her though, so she would go to the doctor's a lot, even the emergency room, and say she had a tummy ache or something like that. She loved it when people were concerned about her and asked her if she was ok. The person she most wanted to ask her if she was ok was her mother, so she would call her mother a lot to discuss the weather, but her mother never really asked how Yvonne was doing so Yvonne was sad, and when she was sad she didn't really feel like eating anything. So even though Yvonne knew not eating was bad for her, and even though she went to the doctor's a lot, no one really took care of her. And the less people took care of her the more she tried to be sick. She was used to being sick inside, though, so it was ok.

Gravity

Is anyone else bothered by the fact that while what goes up must come down, what goes down doesn't necessarily always come back up????

I'm making the buttered cat hovercraft next weekend methinks: you know, the one where cause buttered toast always lands on the buttered side and cats always land on their paws you can butter a cats back and create a spinning hovering perpetuum mobile thingy. 

Computerant

/begin rant

You'd THINK that within the space of 5 academic households, in which each individual (there are 7) owns or has access to at least 2 PCs of varying make and age, at any given moment a minimum of 1 of those 17 machines would actually function without any hitches or glitches. You'd be wrong.

/end rant

Tuesday

 

 

Current mood:  satisfied

It's Tuesday and a good day to die. The sky is wide, the sun is hard and clear, and the air is too bright to breathe. I've got so much unfinished business I should by all accounts remain in limbo for ever or at least care, but I don't. It's a strange awakening, so pregnant with power and yet so weak, ungraceful mercy. Simple. Truth and honesty are here, staring you in the face through my eyes and you leave me alone because you can feel the fear you have of me and don't understand it. You want to think you do because power is attractive and I'm having a good hair day, but really…you are gaping at an expanding chasm of empty and you don't know how to even look at it. So you stumble through your speech and trip over your thoughts because they are just shadows of me and you barely realize where they are while they engulf and surround you and you feel like you are choking on their fluidity.

And while you envision me writhing there you feel helpless and don't understand how there can be strength in my falling down. It's like a bomb, explosive destruction, reaching into the details of your life without explaining why or how or where it comes from. Traveling at twice the speed of life, an inevitable head-on collision with the restraints of time and space and eternity and finality and the portal to silence, a supernova of decision and choice and determination that merely explodes and ends.

I have to go.

Friends in low places...

Current mood:  distressed

Why is it that when the sh!t hits the fan and stress levels run high everyone turns to themselves first and not to each other? It makes no sense rationally or biologically: survival of the species comes before survival of the individual, so why are humans so uniquely stupid about it? Why do families split in times of crises, why do lovers spat at each other when overloaded with work, why isn't it enough to go to the gym and place absolute faith in the trust you originally instilled upon a few chosen members of the human race? I think I'm sticking with dogs from now on, they're reliably themselves at least, even if from co-dependence, and they'll always be about 16 times more happy to see you than anyone you'll ever know...sh!t I miss my girls, these hospital stints aren't as fun as they sound.

Big shout out to Goon for managing to bury himself in work, I suppose that's the best escape from one's humanity in a backwards kind of way. It isn't called "losing yourself in your work" for nothing!

Thankfully I still have a few psychotic friends in some very low places who don't ask stupid questions or judge you by your looks...if my dreams come true and Jasper Fforde is onto something with the whole book-jumping and Jurisfiction thing I will morph into a Carl Hiaasen story one of these days.

Sigh.