It's Ezzie bedtime!

And a quote from Danny as I got ready to crash out, that I just found funny.

Halloween cat says "Fuck the sun."

With regard to our new, nocturnal habits. I think he likes them. As do I.

G'nite internets.

Arrogance

People in their arrogance, irritate me.

So I went on a raid last night, and I was really, really pleased with how well it went. Now, don't get me wrong, I was one of the lowest level players on the raid, I'm level 73. Virtually everyone else was level 80, with a couple of 75's, and two other 73's. There were altogether 40 people. So figure thirty five level 80's, and two 75's, and three 73's. We went in to do a PvP style raid, to take out city bosses, and I had what amounted to my own level 80 priest targeted on me. He was healing a grip of other people, but he had me specifically targeted for heals, to keep me alive. Which was awesome, because, well, I was one of the smallest people there. And I knew it.

Now, I was and am rather pleased, because the fact that I walked out of that raid, after nailing four major city bosses, without dying *once* means two things for me. A: it means that I'm now big enough and reasonably skilled enough to keep up with higher level players, when I have that priest with me. And B: *YAY*, I got the achievement I went in for in the first place.

But I was talking about it with someone later, and he essentially mocked me, when I pointed out that I'm now big enough to run with them. Maybe mocking isn't the correct word. That isn't it. It was more that he claimed that while I had the level 80 priest with me, his time would have been better spent keeping the *other* level 80's alive, and I'm useless and not a worthwhile contributor to such a raid.

I disagree, and my personal opinion is that since I come in a pair with that particular level 80 priest, who would not otherwise *be* running in the raid in the first place, I am very much contributing. Because they always need a skilled enough healer, who *can* keep well-geared level 80's alive. The fact that he's there to keep *me* alive, doesn't make me a liability. It simply contributes a really good healer to the raid. I'm not a detriment to the party, because no one has to keep an eye on me, except him, and he's a massive bonus to the group, because he wouldn't *be there* without me.

And it pissed me off. I rarely go along on the raids, and have declined to run, because of the fact that I'm so much lower than everyone else, and didn't *want* to be a liability. I didn't want to accidentally pull aggro on bosses, or screw up someone's plans. Now that I'm big enough *not* to? And now that I have someone running tandem to heal with me? Who makes me no longer a liability at all? Pissed me off completely.

I am thoroughly sick of the entire attitude of him, and people like him, who imply that they are better than everyone else. They play better. I'm not completely geared out, and am not at max level in the game, and thus am worthless. It's just stupid, and that's why I didn't bother to join his guild in the first place. There's no *point* in joining a guild that has that attitude. And I knew it.

I did, finally, join a PvP guild. Because that's what I enjoy, the basic idea of. But the whole attitude of "you're not worthwhile" seriously pissed me off.

I played for years with people who told me that, and who ended up with their noses rubbed in it every time they finally pushed my buttons off enough to go toe-to-toe with me. Because I don't actually suck at the game. Any game. When I bother playing at such games, I play well, and with skill. Just because I don't play them at the pace every *man* expects, doesn't negate my skill level. It simply means I don't feel a need to sit in front of the machine 23 hours a day, with the other hour being to piss and smoke, and then grind out more levels, so I can prove how "cool" I am.

I already know how cool I am.

Go suck something, ya jerks.

ARGH - my gmail account

FYI, I can't log into my gmail account at the moment. I don't know why, and I'm using a secondary account whilst I wait for the nice folks at google to get back to me. They're resetting my passwords to fix things. Apologies to all and sundry if you're trying to get in touch with me.

Thanks.

--Edit--
10:55 p.m.
All is well, slight harm, slight foul. Apologies to those affected. Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Christmas, Christmas time is here...

Yeah, Merry Christmas. Holidays are officially over today, thanks be to whatever deity you want to pray to.

So, I ate stuffed manicotti, and it was tasty. Put together a chicken casserole that I'll be baking up later this afternoon, when I wake up, which pleases me, and am giving some consideration to actually making a loaf of bread by hand, because I'm that desperate for actual bread instead of the store-bought fluff I've been forced to eat since I've been without a bread machine. Fortunately, this peasant will have a new machine next week, which will make me a happy bird indeed. I've gotten spoiled on having fresh bread at my fingertips, and have missed it badly.

I have *most* of my books ready to roll for January, with the exception of two, and I'll be picking those up next week as well, when I go to sell back my others. Grades are officially up and posted, and I did indeed pull down outstanding grades across the board. Please, hold your applause for the appropriate time, I can only handle so many accolades :P

Yes, I'm a smartass, sorry about that. But yeah, I'm kind of proud of how well I did, for the first semester of college. I was very scared, and I've proven to myself now, that I can do it, even when I'm terrified. Now it's simply a matter of decided what "it" is, that I want to be when I grow up.

I have some serious thoughts in mind, which I'll be discussing at length with my counselor, because now that I have actually proven it, I need to figure out where I want to go from here. (Cue theme song for...not sure what, but I'm sure I'll come up with some sort of conquering hero theme song).

I borrowed the Wii from Danny and Mona for a couple of weeks, and have decided that I most decidedly do enjoy the ever loving hell out of it, and will want to get one for myself. I like the aspect of not sitting on one's ass, while playing. I enjoy Wii Sports, it's great fun. Yay for playing tennis in the living room. w00t.

For the basic updates here: Ezzie and I are doing fine, we're just chillin' for the day. I'll be eating that casserole, and he'll be eating kitty treats, and we'll probably watch a movie, and be slackers together on the couch for the evening. Then I'll probably run Nexus, and get myself a Red Winter Hat, and call it a day. Overall, that's my plan at any rate, to have a nice quiet day. And I'm good with that.

So, Merry Christmas, Happy Yule, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays to anyone and everyone. Be happy, be healthy, be safe. Take care.

It's the end of the world as I know it...

It's the end of the world as I know it...and while I don't feel fine, I can't keep doing it anymore. Any of it. I'm by no means shutting down my blogs, or deleting my MySpace or Facebook, or any other such drastic measures, because that's akin to giving in to an addiction, and declaring I haven't the strength to fight such a thing, and the truth is, that I do have the strength. I've chosen not to.

I'm not choosing to keep embracing the pain anymore. And that pain is encompassing a lot of things. The things that hurt me are myriad, it isn't just one person, one source of injury. I don't need to keep looking at the things that hurt me. Happy Saturnalian indeed. Because the only person who truly got that reference was me, and I know it. There aren't a lot of people versed enough in the history to have caught it, that would also have seen the page. And I won't keep doing it to myself. There's no point. I won't keep looking at the page, or checking back to see what might or might not be anyplace else. I won't say that I no longer care, because that would be a flat-out lie, and I won't lie to myself. But will I beat my head against a wall anymore? No. And while the peasants will most likely gather round and rejoice, it won't do them any good, because while I made my choices to do with it, it makes no difference now to anyone except me. Had I been left alone, and not constantly smacked in the face about it, it might have been different. I didn't need to be chastised like a child because of my feelings.

And the people who can't figure out why it is that they're hurting me, it's also a lost cause. They all know why and what they're doing, but it's simply more convenient for them to ignore it, because to acknowledge what they do, would mean changing something, and it's easier for me to be the sounding board, for me to be the friend who they can pour their problems on, and be the person they can be hypocritical to, and it's always all right, as long as it's "only their problems" that make a difference, when it hurts me.

Except that it's not.

I was thinking about companionship, and what to do when it seems to have no point anymore to a positive friendship. When all it does is bring me down. Just to have friends? Is it really worth it for that? I'm beginning to think that, no, it's not. That being alone isn't so bad, in the long run.

Evidently, everyone views truth just a little bit differently. Variations on the same thing, all seen through a different scope. That's how police can tell when people are lying, at the scene of a crime. No two people ever tell a story exactly the same way, unless they have had time to corroborate their stories. Cop 101. Quantum physics tells us that reality is a series of possibilities existing side-by-side in any given moment, that it's our choices that create our version of reality.

In my reality, I'm tired of being hurt. Tired of having to explain my actions to everyone, over and over, and having things thrown into public arenas that should never be brought up there. Because that's how my "friends" seem to think is the best way to deal with me. And that tells me that at the end of the day, those aren't my friends. The other half of my "friends", operate under the assumption that my feelings are on a sliding scale basis, and are only bruiseable when it's someone else doing the injuring. Gods help the person who hurts me...conveniently excusing themselves if they punch me by their own words or actions. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not, but the end result is the same. But no tolerance is extended for someone *else* who has ever hurt me, and I can be given no leeway for my actions if I want to wallow in self-pity.

I am not permitted such. Because for me to do such a thing means that I'm unavailable to handle the problems of all of my "friends", and that is inconvenient to them, across the board. They grow weary of me having difficulties of my own, that cut into their "me" time.

And truth be told, that's unfortunate, unfair, and unacceptable. Which means that things need to change. And it's the end of something, and I need to make new decisions on how things have to be for me, which is a very practical thing. I tried one approach, and that failed. Now, I'm going to try a new approach.

I obviously don't really need people around me that are sucking the life out of me, or who are going to hit me with a constant flow of things that I don't need to hear. There's nothing that I don't already know about the decisions I'm making, and sometimes I'm simply venting, and generally say that. I ask when I need advice, I'm very good about asking if my reasoning is flawed, or if I'm unsure about my motives. Because I know that sometimes I'm not as stable in my reasons as I can or should be, and so I ask. I have enough things hurting me, to not have my "friends" hurt me too.

Assaulting the stupid, during this, our holiday time:

First, acquire a Christmas tree (for extra scratch damage). Next, attach a menorah to the top, securely fastened, and with blessed candles inserted (for extra heavy bashing power). Third, stick a Festivus pole up the trunk of the Christmas tree (to serve as added support). Fourth, light the entire tree on fire to turn it into a Yule log (for good flame damage). And finally, add in mistletoe for that decorative holiday spirit, to encompass the idea of good cheer whilst bashing the ever-living-crap out of whatever moronic idiot richly deserves it.

Brought to you by: An Equal Opportunity Holiday Elf.

Conversations

Or perhaps it was a rant. I'm not even sure anymore. I was talking to Danny about it, while I was driving back from somewhere, a couple of days ago. And I asked him if I was being fair. Today is the 21st of December. So far, this year, I haven't had anything even vaguely be sunshine and roses for me. And I wanted to know why I didn't get to have things go my way, just a couple of times a year?

That seemed like a reasonable request to me. I wasn't looking to have everything handed to me on a silver platter. I wasn't looking for happiness and joy on a day to day basis, or have sunny days every freaking day. But a couple of times a year, I should get to be happy. That seemed fair to me.

I figured that every now and then, I should get to have things work out for *me*, instead of getting to see everyone else be happy, and everyone else have things go right-side-up, while I get more and more unhappy.

And I asked him why it was, that this year, *absolutely nothing* has just gone right, with sunshine for me. And being that there are less than two weeks left, before the end of the year? When is it my turn? How come I don't get to have one this year?

Starting with New Year's Eve last year, pretty much I've had one colossal failure after another, of misery or unhappiness in one capacity or another. And I don't quite understand why the karmic gods decided to beat me over the head this year.

And so I asked Danny if I was asking too much, or if perhaps this was just how it was meant to be. Everyone else gets a turn, except me? Everyone else gets to have someone love them. Everyone else gets to have it easy, at least once in a while, except for me.

And I know he didn't have any answers, and that it isn't even a fair question, but that's how it feels. Everybody else except me, got to have at least a couple of times this year, where things went right for them. That just naturally fell the right way, and things were good.

And while I had a couple of good days this year? They were days I had to *work* for. They weren't just "good things fell for me". I did really well for school, but I busted my ass for it. I managed to keep the apartment, but I jumped through hoops left and right to make it happen. There was no easy, no simple, no sunshine and roses solution. Every single step of it was 'hold your breath and hope like hell' kind of stuff. Right to the wire, it was impossible and nerve-wracking, and things I had to fight for.

*Nothing* went right for me, right from the beginning. And so I sit, looking at the calendar, and wondering...when do I get a turn? Why does everyone else except me get to have a turn to have a happy this year? What did I do so bad, that I had to have an entire year of unhappiness? And is that what I have to look forward to, next year?

Because I'm not sure I want to bother anymore, if next year is going to be a repeat of this one.

Thank you, and please drive through.

To the Gods, I beseech: Care for what I love, while I cannot.

I can't always take care of what I love. I sometimes am not given that choice. In those situations, all I'm left with is shooting my oft unanswered plea to whoever is listening, that they'll be watched over, and hoping for the best. That's all I can do, and it leaves me frustrated and powerless.

I am so tired, and so afraid, and have no way to rectify any of it. No way to know what's going on, and no way to figure anything out. So, instead I'll fill my days trying out cooking new recipes, reading various books, and playing silly video games, trying desperately to distract myself. Sometimes, it works. Most often, it doesn't.

It does, for short stretches of time. But not for all the empty hours. Such is life. Right now. I'm going to go and peel parsnips and carrots, to drop into the crockpot, to roast as winter vegetables, for something to do. Then I'll go back to researching tamale filling, because that will be my project for tomorrow, most likely.

I'm told it's an almost all-day project, just putting the assembly of them together. I'm thinking about renewing my Netflix subscription, simply because it will give me something to do, watching mindless films. School will start again in January, which is good, and will fill yet more time, and that will help. This stretch of time off is difficult, because I hadn't realized how much of my spare time school ate up, and gave me a way to focus. Hours upon hours of time, with nothing to do, and no goal is very difficult for me now.

I am having a very difficult time of a lot of things, handling them. I was much better focusing on people other than myself. I guess social work really was a good choice for a major. So would law be, if I do decide to go that route. Either one, would give me the ideal way to focus my energy completely on people other than me.

Coincidences, and stuff

It's waking up to a Monster, and plotting how best to decorate gingerbread men, and Gunbound, and giggling. It's Fettucine alfredo dishes, and kitteh kisses, and meows.

It's tasty Me'n'Eds pizza with Stewie, while we laugh and play Need for Speed, and make fun of each other. It's setting up Ubuntu on the linux box, and figuring out how to make it go, and discussing the mechanics of getting a switch to run both boxes from one monitor, until I have two.

And at the end of the day, it's a long hot shower, with my hair all clean and blown dry, and warm clean footie pajamas fresh out of the dryer. A big mug of hot cocoa, with freshly baked rolls, and iTunes playing softly in the background, with a blanket wrapped around me, and my Ezzie on my lap, while I play silly games, and slaughter big bad monsters until my eyes pop out of my head.

April 30, 2008

I hate you right now. I hate you so much that I can't even see straight. Every single solitary thing inside of me is either completely broken, or well on its way to getting there. There's a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my mind is just circling round and round with "you knew this was going to happen."

And I did. I did know. I knew I should have just fucking sent you away in the first place. Because I knew damned well that when it came right down to it, I don't matter to you. There will always be someone who can tell you "just leave, walk away from her", and you'll either do it, or you'll have to sit and make some heart-wrenching decision, and somewhere it'll be my fault that you gave them up for me.

And you know what? That you have to sit and contemplate it at all is killing me. Because there shouldn't be any thought for this. You have sworn to me for months that this wasn't even a fucking possibility. And when I told you you were wrong? You got all offended that I would accuse you of such a thing. You threw things like "You really have a low opinion of me, don't you" and such nonsense at me. You were so wounded that I would think such a thing of you. Because you would *never* do that to me! And here we are. You're royally pissed at me, again, because once again I was right, and you're doing precisely what I'd said would happen...and you hate that, because it means two things. You aren't who I thought you were. And that what you said was a lie to me. Again. All that wounded bullshit, where you tried to make me feel bad for doubting you, ended up with me being correct in the end.

Do you know how many people I've told to go piss off because of you? That I wasn't willing to listen to people's bullshit about you? And when people tried to get me to choose a "him or us" kind of choice, I very easily, without the moral debate or having to "think things over" told them to go fuck themselves, because I wasn't willing to give up someone I cared about and drop you. I chose to keep you in my life, and if they didn't like it, *they* were welcome to leave. I was quite willing to stop speaking to and seeing *them*, but not you.

And you know what? That included my mom, when she was being oh so disapproving. I told her if she didn't like my choices, she was welcome to simply not speak to me. I would speak with Dana and Mark, and my dad. But I wasn't willing to have my choice of friends dictated by someone else.

So your girlfriend is going to dictate who you can and can't see or be friends with, talk to and spend time with? That's fucking bullshit. And that you're willing to let her, after all your big talk about "no woman is going to tell me who I can be friends with." And that I was much too important and valuable a friend to you for you to simply throw away? I no longer believe you. Your words and your actions just don't match.

I'm sure that what you'll end up telling me in the end is that you've decided for yourself that she is simply so important to you that you'll do anything to keep her. But what that means in reality is that you've caved to a completely unreasonable demand, and that you lied to me. Because you made a promise to me, and I have been nothing to you. And you've proven to me that I was correct all along, and that I should have trusted my instincts and operated under the assumption that you would indeed vanish, because I didn't matter to you, just as I always believed.

The fact that you would sit and need to "think about what to do", instead of just telling her that you refuse to just abandon someone who you claim is a good and valuable and cared for friend, simply because she tells you to...that tells me a lot of things. None of them good.

And that you don't seem to realize that I have feelings, and you have once again completely disregarded them and not noticed that I'm broken and bleeding, and hurt beyond measure. You care that you hurt her. But you never for a second cared how badly what you said might have hurt me. You were simply pissed because I wouldn't sit down, shut up, and leave you be to make your decision. It didn't matter that I was hurt.

May 26, 2008

Wow. It's been twenty six days, and I never actually got around to writing another entry. I'm kind of surprised at myself.

I'm still angry. And as far as the last entry that I wrote, the one where I "predicted" he was going to ditch me? I was right. Because I have a habit of being right in such situations. He didn't give a damn, and did exactly what he was told to do by her.

He treated me like the neighborhood slut. Suck my cock, and don't tell anyone you're doing it. It's the best thing I've ever had done, and I love having it done, as long as no one knows. But as soon as someone finds out, it's over, and don't call me, I'll call you. Because I'm ashamed to be seen with you.

And he's gone. He hasn't called, emailed, gotten in touch in any way. And at the end of the day, possibly a baby. Still don't know. Although as I'm cramping and spotting now, that might not be. I don't know. I go in to have a good ultrasound done by a competent tech on Friday morning. And I honestly still don't know how I feel about the whole thing.

I know for damn sure that if I *am* pregnant, there are no circumstances at all in which I want him as a part of my life, if she's a part of his. At all. I'm not sure I want him in my life even if she's gone, but I know for certain I don't want him anywhere near me if she's in contact with him, in any way, for any reason. Not as a text on his phone, not as a random email wondering how he's doing. No phone calls, no cute little messages. Nothing, for any reason. I have been through enough, and I won't have it. Maybe that makes me a bitch, or a raving cunt.

I just don't care anymore. In the last six months, I have been through hell because of her. I have been treated like less than dirt, I have been cheated on, and left to pick up the pieces of his broken heart by her *after* I was cheated on, because he ended up suicidal. And I was kicked around and left broken. All because of her. Because every time she so much as sneezes in his general direction, he drops everything to do exactly what she tells him to do, because he wants her so fucking badly. And at this point? I won't have anything to do with him if she's in any way involved in his life. Essentially, what was done to me? Has to be done to her. And unlike her, I know him. I know he'll sneak around. He'll lie, and he'll squirm and he'll attempt to get back into some kind of contact with her, because he *loooves* her. And I don't give a damn. The very first time it happens, he'll never see me, or his baby again. Ever. Because I have had it. I have been broken and bleeding and destroyed completely too much.

There's nothing left. The only thing left for him now is because there's a possibility of a baby, I baby I still want, and I don't want that child left without a father the way Dana was. That would be my only reason alone for allowing him back near me. But if it would be as a package deal with his precious girlfriend, then it's a no-go for me. Because I won't be trying to deal with someone else pulling his strings, and the stress of him walking out on us. And I won't be dealing with the bullshit agan.

The love that I felt for him is gone now. It was shattered by a callous email that was unnecessarily cruel. Shattered by a lack of concern for a friend, by a friend. Shattered by lies and broken promises.

All that's left is the possibility of a child, one that I thought I wanted. I'm still not even sure about that. But I know that I won't punish his child for his father's sins. Neither will I tolerate being walked out on twice, because of his father's inability to make his own decisions. And I won't allow his father to do to a child what was done to me. I wouldn't allow Kevin the chance to do that to Dana, and I won't allow him the chance to do it to this baby.

And the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach gets less with each passing day, as I wake up and grow used to his absence. And the loneliness each night when I go to sleep also gets less. I sleep now, without him. And I dream about things other than the email that broke my heart.

This will pass.

June 28th, 2008

Maybe that's what it was. I loved everything about being with you, being tangled up in you. I felt overwhelmed, all the time, looking at you, being around you. I felt completed and safe and I wanted that feeling to stay. I didn't want to have to go back to the way it was, me being alone.

And so when you walked away, all I feel is empty, and it's making me so angry I can't see straight. And I keep going back and forth between anger and despair and wanting revenge.

And none of it is healthy for me, and I know it. Maybe that's what they mean by stages of grief? And perhaps that's what I'll have to go through. Because somewhere inside, I guess I still keep expecting for you to come back. And make it all be okay again. Which isn't a good thing, because I know you'll just do this to me again.

You'll come back and it won't be because you care about me, it will be because it's easy for you. Because I made things easy for you, and you can get laid, and I take care of you. And you'll stay, as long as I do what I'm supposed to do, and don't make any noises about what you did that was wrong, and mean, and don't make you uncomfortable. And you'll stay until something better catches your eye, and you feel "in love" again. And then the merry-go-round will start again.

And I'll be the one who gets hurt again. You'll never be able to look at me, and just say you love or want me. You're not strong enough for that. The person that you want to be, the person that you are? They aren't the same. The person who wants to be strong and loyal and honest, he isn't you. I thought he was, but he's not.

I wanted it badly. I really believed that in the end, you'd stand up and say that you cared enough about me, at least about our friendship, to tell them to leave us alone. But you can't. You'd rather walk away than deal with conflict when it comes to me. You'll let everyone in the world tell you how you feel about me, because it means you don't have to fight for me.

And you shouldn't feel bad about it. It's how it is for everyone with regard to me. Nobody has ever been willing to fight for me. Most of the time, not even me myself.

But I need to learn to fight for myself, and staying with a man who both can't and won't stand up for me, in any way? Has damaged me beyond any means I can express. And the stages of grief are harder than I remembered.

TV and movies give a distorted view of reality, damnit!

Yes, yes, they do! Stupid TV. Where, under the seven suns, do real people only have one half-full basket of laundry, at the end of the week? Hmmm? Because that's how it's portrayed on the freaking television shows. I know, I watched Friends!

So I'm in the process of doing laundry. And even though it's now just me doing laundry, so I can't really complain as much as I used to, because the sheer volume really has gone down considerably, there is by *no* means, a cute little half-full basket of laundry.

And I actually don't do the "change clothes twice a day because I work a full-time job, and then go home, and want to wear a different set of clothes to lounge around the house" thing. So, I ask my dear readers, where does this mock portrayal of the half-full basket of dirty clothes originate from?

These busy television people are certainly not running to the laundromat every day, to wash their dirty linens. So how do they pull this fantastical feat off?

Because, man, looking at my piles of freaking clothes, I want some of those ninja skills.

Dream Theater

Raise the Knife By Dream Theater

Have I thanked you for your time?
Or will your life go unrewarded
Again?
Never asking for a dime
You just gave all of yourself
Until I turned my back on you
My friend

The powers that be made you a martyr
Conspiracy led you to slaughter
I tried to control it but as soon as I showed it
I was shot down again

Once again outnumbered
Appreciation slumbered
You can ask yourself why
But that look in your eye
Doesn't pass the test
You've been laid to rest my friend
Again

Tortured artist bares his soul
Seems the pressure took its toll
Lived a life so punishing
Now he keeps the publishing

Spilling your guts out to a pad and pen
Communication to your silent friend

Raising the knife
To a picture of a life
(I once knew)
There comes a time
Compromising my life
(Just won't do)
I cannot lie
I can't try anymore
(To reach you)
I just can't fight
Raise the knife
Raise the knife
Cut through

I remember once you were the quiet type
Content to sit and watch the motions of your life
With false sensitivity
You cut yourself open so people would adore you

They all bought into your contrived sincerity
And how you wore your heart and soul right on your sleeve
Laughing sarcastically
You turned your back on the people who adored you

Self-absorbed exhaustion
Self-esteem distortion
Self-infused extortion
Self-serving abortion

I'll take the blame for these things that I say
'Cause I had the heart and the will and the courage to stay
Every day
I won't walk away

Reading through all the digests you show me
I notice the way that you think you control me
Doubting my future, you don't even know me
But I never walked out on you

Raising the knife
To a picture of a life
(I once knew)
There comes a time
Compromising my life
(Just won't do)
I cannot lie
I can't try anymore
(To reach you)
I just can't fight
Raise the knife
Raise the knife
Cut through

Raising the knife
To a picture of a life
(I once knew)
There comes a time
Compromising my life
(Just won't do)
I cannot lie
I can't try anymore
(To reach you)
I just can't fight
Raise the knife
And live my life
Without you

Raising the knife
To a picture of a life
There comes a time
Compromising my life
I cannot lie
I can't try anymore
I just can't fight
Raise the knife

**

Solitary Shell By Dream Theater

He seemed no different from the rest
Just a healthy normal boy
His mama always did her best
And he was daddy's pride and joy

He learned to walk and talk on time
But never cared much to be held
And steadily he would decline
Into his solitary shell

As a boy he was considered somewhat odd
Kept to himself most of the time
He would daydream in and out of his own world
But in every other way he was fine

He's a Monday morning lunatic
Disturbed from time to time
Lost within himself
In his solitary shell

A temporary catatonic
Madman on occasion
When will he break out
Of his solitary shell

He struggled to get through his day
He was helplessly behind
He poured himself onto the page
Writing for hours at a time

As a man he was a danger to himself
Fearful and sad most of the time
He was drifting in and out of sanity
But in every other way he was fine

He's a Monday morning lunatic
Disturbed from time to time
Lost within himself
In his solitary shell

A momentary maniac
With casual delusions
When will he be let out
Of his solitary shell


**

I Walk Beside You By Dream Theater

There's story in your eyes
I can see the hurt behind your smile
For every sign I recognize
Another one escapes me

Let me know what plagues your mind
Let me be the one to know you best
Be the one to hold you up
When you feel like you re sinking

Tell me once again
What's beneath the pain you're feeling
Don't abandon me
Or think you can't be saved

I walk beside you
Wherever you are
Whatever it takes
No matter how far
Through all that may come
And all that may go
I walk beside you
I walk beside you

Summon up your ghost from me
Rest your tired thoughts upon my hands
Step inside this sacred place
When all your dreams seem broken

Resonate inside this temple
Let me be the one who understands
Be the one to carry you
When you can walk no further

Tell me once again
What's below the surface bleeding
If you've lost your way,
I will take you there

I walk beside you
Wherever you are
Whatever it takes
No matter how far
Through all that may come
And all that may go
I walk beside you
I walk beside you

Ooo, where everything is wrong
Ooo, where hopelessness surrounds you
Ooo, the sun will rise again
The tide you swim against
Will carry you back home
So don't give up
Don't give in

I walk beside you
Wherever you are
Whatever it takes
No matter how far
Through all that may come
And all that may go
I walk beside you
I walk beside you

Conundrums

So this is essentially how the last three or so weeks have gone for me, in a nutshell. (holding steady) Gearing up for finals, and Thanksgiving week was approaching. My medications were also being tweaked with, which was unpleasant at best. (holding steady) Decided to change my mind, because it was exceedingly important to Sissy that I go to Bakersfield, for holiday crap, so I went, but had panic attacks, due to the change in medication increase, and my old meds going bonkers with the doseage situation. (holding steady) Got back into town, to discover that my apartment's been broken into, and I'm more than a little rattled, but handled what needed to be handled, and moved on with things. (holding steady) Dealing with a difficult professor who can't be reached and had to contact the Dean to help alleviate the situation. (holding steady) Coping with studying for finals, and all that entails. (holding steady) Medication tweaks are making me sick and over-exhausted, and still trying to function around that, and not crash in and out of depression. (holding steady) Massive uproar and fight with Jeremiah due to douchebagness, and resolution, because it made Sissy happy. (holding steady) Different set of fighting, without resolution this time with the Bakersfield crowd, and not sure where that'll end up. (holding steady) Pulled down finals, and grades are in, tagged high enough GPA to make honors, which I was proud of. (holding steady)

Through ALL OF THIS CRAP, I managed to keep my shit together. And it was a fair amount of not-blogged-about, I'm simply scanning through the highlights here, stuff. I actually have coped fairly well, and managed to keep myself together.

I'm not particularly holding it together now. Didn't take much, to knock me over, which is kind of sad, in retrospect. I shouldn't have been all that surprised, to find that when poked at by that particular stick, it would slide through like a hot knife through butter. I don't have a defense against it. I wasn't even looking for it, I was looking at something else entirely. And being caught completely off-guard simply made it hurt that much worse.

So now, I'm sitting here, alone, staring blankly at the wall about half the time, feeling like I've been punched. Because it fucking hurts. Because I *didn't* do anything wrong, and I still feel like I'm being punished, for what I've lost, and it fucking sucks. And I want to be angry. I want to sit and scream and be furious. And all I am is depressed, and lonely and hurt.

Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passion, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence. -- John Adams


I really hate that. But it's true.

Apparently, absolutely anyone but me will do. You wanted to make sure I'm all the way broken?

Evidently, absolutely anyone else but me, will do. Thanks, if that was the point trying to be made, mission accomplished. You wanted to make sure I couldn't miss it? I got it. You wanted to make sure I was completely broken? Mission accomplished there too. It doesn't matter who, but you'll accept anyone else but me, as a friend, as a lover, as an acquaintance. I get it. I'm simply not worthwhile. I got it. You could have picked someone who wasn't quite so vile, or such a worthless piece of humanity though.

Adolf Hitler and Aryan Nation

There's been a fair amount in the news recently, about three-year-old Adolf Hitler Campbell, who just had a birthday. The grocery store ShopRite refused to put Happy Birthday Adolf Hitler on his cake, for, well, all the obvious reasons, and his idiotic parents are protesting long and loud about the unfairness of it all. Well, in my reading I stumbled upon this article in an interview with the parents of darling Adolf Hitler and his sister Aryan Nation, that covers a fair amount of in-depth ground.

I agree with the sentiments of the journalist who wrote it, and the psychologist who says that the parents are crazy. Those poor kids. I can't even imagine what's going to happen when those kids hit school age, and...just, ugh.

People really should require licenses to breed.

Trying this again, without the bloody kool-aid.

I've been intending, for several days, probably nearer to a week now, to put up a blog post about hypocrisy. I read some one's blog rant, and she was carrying on about being a good parent, and not using drugs, and education, among other rants. During the entire course of that post, the whole thing was misspelled atrociously. Not the generalized typos, but really truly horribly misspelled. And she pointed fingers at people and their parenting, and how they treat their children, without ever having had any of her own, it was just a big long piss-fest, essentially. And I rolled my eyes at it, and snarked something to the effect of "pot-kettle-black", and relegated it to the back of my mind.

Something spurned me to again, want to post on hypocrisy. I'm a target, a lot of the time, a very handy target, for anyone who wants to be pissed off at someone. And I allow that a fair amount of the time, because I make a good sounding board, and am usually willing to let things sit, without having a problem with it.

The end result of that being that I know a lot of what is going on in most of my acquaintances lives, at any given time, from all sides. Because everyone under the sun feels the need to have a sounding board, and I tend to keep my mouth shut, unless there's a really good reason *not* to. And this is common knowledge.

The trouble with that is, while everyone I know, knows and accepts this about me. And as a general rule, they're all very happy with this arrangement...*as it applies to other people*. Because I don't go letting out their secrets. I don't tell the entire world what's going through any one's head, and that's a good thing.

Larry told Angela, that Sally wants to bash in Larry's head, because he wants to buy a giraffe for Melanie for Valentine's day, instead of just going to have a picnic!

Or whatever. Because I don't particularly tell anyone anything, because why the hell would I? Unless it's something that's going to hurt someone else, something that effects more than just bruised feelings, I'll just sit and listen. Or unless I've been specifically asked to throw in my two cents to whatever happens to be going on. I listen, I give advice, I move on.

And that's fabulous. Yay. And everyone is good with that. Except that everyone also knows that if it's going to hurt people? I'm not going to sit quietly and allow that. And more often than not, everyone is good with that. *EXCEPT* when it applies *to them*. It suddenly stops being okay then.

Which makes it hypocritical. My fair play and set of rules are great, and everyone likes everybody else, and everyone wants to have me as a sounding board, and wants to be able to use me for advice, and the ability to vent about life...but only as my fair play rules don't apply to them?

No, I don't think so. Because I'm not a hypocrite. And I'm tired of getting slammed for being me, and doing what I do, because great big fucking sticks get shoved up asses, when I've done nothing more than what I always do, which is try to make sure no one ends up not hurt. Or at least to minimize damage when there's no way to avoid it.

Even when it was *my own fucking life*, I tried to minimize all the god damned damage possible, as Danny can well attest to. Because I don't like being a hypocrite, and I'm not a big fan of collateral damage when it comes to the people I care about.

But I am everlastingly sick of getting attacked for being me. I haven't changed my basic personality. I still am going to make the decisions I'm going to make. I didn't step across lines, and I didn't violate anyone. I didn't sit down and ponder how best I could fuck anyone over. I rarely bother doing such things, and I *never* bother doing that to someone I love.

Fuck, I didn't do that anyone I care about. And when they got hurt, and badly, it wasn't out of malice or spite. When someone was incredibly damaged, it wasn't because I was trying to hurt him. And in that particularly scenario, I got massively damaged as well, because I was *trying* to play fair. There was so much collateral damage in that fallout, I thought the whole damned sky had fallen in, and it wasn't just on me. But it wasn't, any of it, because I was trying to hurt *anyone*.

It was because my sense of fair play wouldn't allow for there to be that much hidden sneaking around, and miscommunication, and bullshit. I don't like being caught in the middle of everyone talks to me, and no one talks to the people they *should* be telling the truth to. That's stupid, it's pointless, and it's wrong.

And then deciding I'm public enemy number one, because I don't want to see anyone getting hurt, and blow the whistle? Is equally shitty, on everyone.

And I'm sick of it. Sick of being blamed for being the person who tells the truth, and gets caught in the shitstorm. I cannot understand for the life of me, why it is so difficult to communicate with people. I know why I personally have trouble communicating verbally, but that's a speech thing, not a communication thing. So I write my stuff down, and continue on.

But for the rest of you? What the fuck is your excuse?

New

I have a new entertainment center. And it's beautiful. Yep.

That's all. Thanks to Stew and Jeannie and Matt for moving it in for me. I love it!

How I used to be...

It's five o'clock in the morning. And no, it's not that I have risen early this morning, before my alarm, and thus am blogging because I woke up a bit early. I am writing this as I sit here, preparing to go and lie down, in the hope that perhaps I will be able to sleep. And I will, probably, once I take something to insure the sleep. And there will be nightmares, because there are almost always nightmares, filling my head, and my dreams, which is why I don't like to sleep anymore.

So it's five a.m., and I'm not just waking up, I'm still awake. Which happens more and more these days. The turbulent ricocheting thoughts inside of my mind that never give me peace, the way it used to be once before, when I couldn't get calm enough, to make the staccato beats in my head stop.

How I used to be. For a while, it stopped. There was peace inside my head and I slept, and I was calm, and things were okay. They weren't great. I wasn't dancing on clouds, and my life was not filled with sunshine or roses. It wasn't perfect. But I could sleep, and I was doing well enough, that things were...tolerable, at least.

And I miss that, honestly. Because this? This is somewhere approaching intolerable, sometimes. This frustration of intrusion inside of my head, inside of mind, where I cannot make it quiet, and I can't seem to make anything calm for myself. I want it back, the way I was. This internal turmoil that's become "me", I do not like it. I want it to cease, I want *me* back again. The stability and structure that I had, and that I'd adjusted to.

It's difficult to admit how easily I'd fallen into that structure, and taken it for granted. And it's difficult to cope, with the chaos that I can't seem to control. My obsessive compulsive disorder runs rampant, trying to make up for the lack of any kind of order, inside of me. Because there is no order inside of me, I'm trying to compensate by making things around me orderly, and that's failing too. Which only compounds the problem.

And I don't know how to fix any of it. And, before anyone bothers asking, yes I'm already getting help. What I can do, I have done. There's only so much that I can do.

So I attempt, at the urging of someone with credentials to back his suggestions, to distract myself. To chronicle my thoughts with some type of order. To journal what goes on inside my mind. I work through, on a day to day basis a great many things, and I attempt, as best I can, ways to handle all of the chaos inside of my mind. And when that fails, and it fails often, I take the next best out. And I medicate myself to sleep, when I can't get to sleep any other way.

And sometimes I even make it through a stretch of time, without raging nightmares, that make me wake up in a cold sweat, remembering things I would rather forget. Sometimes I can get through a normal sleep cycle, without crying, or simply not even bothering with attempting that sleep cycle at all, and just staying awake.

There are no easy answers, I know this. But I can't be blamed for wishing, as difficult as it is right now, for the simplicity that came from when there was even a vague semblance of happiness. When there was easy sleep, feeling safe and comfortable, and not questioning every single decision and thought process that went through my mind, and then questioning myself again.

To just wake up one morning, and be how I used to be...

Secret word of the week

The word of the week:

Wii

Indeed.

pain. finals. headaches.

Incoming weather either swing or rain, can't tell. Too many drugs in my systems to be accurate for prediction. Take that however you like.

Finals? Suck.

And I have a headache. Still.

And? I wish you didn't matter. Go 'way.

I am.

I am not who you think I am. I don't do what you think I do, and I don't think what you believe I think. And unless you man up, and actually ask me what's going on inside my head and my heart, and have the courage to face yourself, and me?

You'll never know. Do what you like. But don't think for a second that *I* am what prevents you from facing me.

Yes, I noticed

Yes, I see that it's gone. If that was the point, point taken.

Melancholy and mood swings

I have curtains now. My mom hung up the curtain rods for me, while she was here this week, and I now have curtains in the front room, and she taught me how to hang the rods, so I can put up the others in the bedrooms. I'll be hanging up the others shortly. I like them, and they make me smile when I look at them.

The increased dose on my meds is working, and it's making my moods more stable. I had to reverse the order on them, so I stop being awake all night, and asleep all day, but other than that, it's helping. Thank the gods, or I'd be even further over the edge than I currently am, and that's saying something for the few people who actually do come into contact with me.

If anyone actually views my Project Playlist arrangements, as promised, the choices are reflective of my moods, and those moods are melancholy, and I know it. There are reasons for that, and the holidays aren't particularly helping.

I have "My Immortal" playing right now, and I miss Kenny. I can't help but think of him first, whenever this plays. Kenny, laughing, and joking while we all played together. It makes me remember good times, with Brandon, with Danny, while we were all still happy. And then when he was gone, when everything seemed to kind of all go to shit.

And thinking of Kenny, and how long it's been, realistically, that he's been gone now, and I cry. And how wasted it was, and how much he was loved. Nothing will ever bring him back, and it's completely stupid. And that's enough of that, because all I am is angry at the loss of him.

Miss you Ssken. :( You were loved, you are remembered. You are *still* loved. By all of us.

But thinking of him, and that loss, makes me worry for others I know, and love, who have or had similar problems, and run those same risks when stress hits them. And I worry. And I am just as fucking powerless in their lives as I was in Kenny's, and all I can do is sit here, and wonder where they are now, and what they're doing, and it makes me quietly crazy, to think that it might be my fault, whatever might happen to them. And I'd never know, if something happened to them.

Kenny died, because of drugs he was using. I never realized in time, that he was using them again. And then he was gone, and I didn't save him. And he thought no one loved him enough. And I've always believed somehow we might have saved him, if we'd known, or if I could have helped more. Or *something*. And it eats at me, it always did.

I can't escape that, I've never been able to run away from it. So when I read Phil's blog, in July, I had an absolute panic attack, because it was like being hit in the stomach with a baseball bat, and watching someone else fall into that kind of pit. And even now, if he did something stupid, I still wouldn't know. Couldn't help. And it wouldn't make a damned bit of difference.

I hate the fucking holidays. It's been a pile of clusterfuck since the beginning of October. People dying left and right. Everyone is sick, or going broke. People in danger of losing their homes, or their jobs, or just one catastrophe or another. And things going wrong, and how much can anyone take, until they break?

And so at this point, I've gotten more and more quiet, and more and more withdrawn. I know it. Everyone has commented on it. I have no answers anymore. I have nothing productive to contribute. No good answer. I do what I'm supposed to do, to get through, one day at a time.

I gave up the fight. I did what was expected of me. I couldn't do anything else. But...now what?

As it was in the beginning, is now until the end...woman draws her life from man, and gives it back again...and there is love...

Tell me, while she's touching you, just by mistake, accidentally do you say my name?

Damn. This isn't directed at anybody, it's simply because of the song in the background. So I just rolled back into town from Bakersfield, after having met the, as Sissy puts it "hot Jewish boys" who were down from Seattle. They're actually still in Los Angeles, visiting their families, and will be staying at my apartment either tonight, or tomorrow, before they head back home.

It wasn't until Sis and I were in the car, driving back towards home, when she pointed out what I had, being the oblivious ass that I tend to be, missed. Jer looks like Phil. Which is why I spent three days being a complete bitch. He also tends to *act* like Phil, and sets the same sparks off me that he does. It didn't help that he has the same body build, etc, which I honestly hadn't picked up on. I simply was an ass. Go, me.

Nothing new there. If it hadn't been pointed out to me, I wouldn't have caught it at all, and would have continued on my happy oblivious way, and been an idiot permanently. At least I can apologize. Anyhow. Such was my week.

There should be turkey available shortly. Yippee. My OCD is going crazy, as I attacked my front hall closet, and ended up dismantling the whole thing, trying to find a Pearlcorder for my mom, which I did actually locate. So there is that. Didn't find my Latin books, though, so they must be in the Carl boxes, which means I'm going to need to go through all the Carl boxes before I *ship* the Carl boxes, la la la la la la.

I'm feeling a little wired. Dunno why. Need to repack some of these boxes of his stuff before it's safe to send out either way, so it's just as well that I had a chance to see what was in there. I hung up stockings on the wall. And put a santa hat on Ezzie's scratching post. He shot me the dirtiest look I think I've ever seen. I'm sure he'll survive. Maybe I'll give him turkey and earn his respect back.

I've become spoiled by the Mac and my new computer. I dislike using slower machines now, having learned what a good strong machine is capable of.

On a different tangent. I want a hug.

That is...all for right now.

Latez, intarwebs.

Chinese food and rejection

I broke several things today, and ended up ordering in Chinese food, because I couldn't seem to keep a grip on anything long enough to cook dinner. The new place delivers, which is good, because I would not have trusted myself behind the wheel either. It's ironic, because I probably would have been fine, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. So I ordered Chinese. And it was good, but whilst having dinner, and bs'ing on the phone, about half-way through the conversation, I was abruptly told, once again, that I wasn't important, and booted off. Not in quite those words, of course. And while I obligingly hung up, I pointed out that it was rude to abruptly terminate the conversation simply because someone else was bored, and wanted to chat, even though we were already in the middle of a discussion. I'm so tired of that crap. Shit like that makes me not want to continue a friendship, out of sheer frustration. If there's actually something important going on, and you need to take off, and go handle it? Fine, I get it, sometimes things come up that need to be handled. Happens to the best of us. But if it's just "Wah, I'm bored", that's just bullshit. And it keeps happening. And the more it happens, the less inclined I am to pursue a friendship anymore.

Hope is that thing with feathers, that perches within the soul - Emily Dickinson

Blarg

I'm still sick, but I'm not dead. That is all.

I'm sick

And from the feel of things, I don't think it's going to end up being a little sick. I tried for the last two days to kick it back, and it's not receding. The more I try, the more I fail. And as I sit here writing this, it's kind of getting a little bit worse.

And no, I do not want anyone showing up here, and even if you do, I won't bother answering the door. I'm not up to it, so don't waste your time.

I'm camped out in pajamas, under blankets, and not particularly holding anything down. My head is doing it's spinning routine, which is kind of disconcerting me, since I haven't taken *any* of my pain meds, so the spinning is kind of unnerving. And my lungs are pissed at me. If it holds past Monday, it's rather handy that I'm slated for doc appointments all next week anyhow. I'll let my doctors know what's up, and they'll decide what needs to be done. Either way, it's a safe bet that I'm kind of screwed.

Having said all of that, I'm heading to sleep, and if there's no answer when anyone calls me, don't take it personally. I'm sleeping.

Sometimes it's hard for people to understand that there is a difference between the past and the present. To see the truth from illusion, or fact from fiction. To a certain extent, I kind of can understand how that happened, and I suppose that some of the fault is mine.

This: the image I gave of not wanting anything to do with family, with hearth and home. I didn't want the white picket fence lifestyle, and I had no compunctions about verbalizing my belief in not being tied to the barefoot and pregnant image.

And while that's all well and good. Not wanting to be co-dependent, and not wanting to be stuck at home making babies and waiting hand and foot on someone?

I ask for all of you idiot men to stop, sit down and think about the *actual* reality of the person that is me. Not the words that I say. Not the image you think you have in your heads. The *actual* reality, of the person who actually ended up being me.

Because that person? Was, in the end, not the person you seem to think that you knew. I've spent the last six months fighting tooth and nail, being sick with hormones swimming in my bloodstream, to insure that I can have babies. Healthy babies. This, from a woman who has mocked, heavily, for years the idea of children. As is common knowledge. But I spent months making damned sure my reproductive system works now, because it just about destroyed me to lose a child, because of the damage to my only working ovary. Not that I'm infected with baby rabies, and looking to get knocked up. But I'm not sitting here doing the 'children are worthless and a waste of oxygen' song, either.

I never chased the verbal dream of marriage and family, no. Never espoused the burning desire to take care of a man. But I got up, every morning, and made sure someone ate. Did laundry. Kept the house clean. And not in a halfhearted, half-assed fashion. Kept the whole place clean, and cooked meals, and took care of the person I loved. Made certain they had what they needed so they could go to work, every day. To keep them in good health. To try and make them happy.

But I never said the a word about wanting to be married. Spoke against it, in fact. My actions and my words, they didn't match. My failing, perhaps. I can write, beautifully, if I need to. But when it comes to verbalizing what is going on, with a partner? I fail.

And no one ever looked at my actions, to see that I was doing all of the necessary things, to be a good partner, that would have made a good wife. That in the end, given time, things would have smoothed out. It doesn't matter who that person would have been, because they never look and see me. They always see some type of shade of who I was, or who they remember. Or worse yet, who they expected me to be, and not the reality of me.

Part of that, that's my fault. Because I can't get those all-important words out. But part of that is a lack of actually looking *at* me, and seeing who I am, and not who they expect to see, or who they wanted me to be, because it was easier for them to cast me aside if I was still someone else. Someone they were still angry at. Someone I wasn't anymore. It doesn't really matter anymore, who it is they were looking at, that isn't me.

The point is, that person? Isn't me. And none of them looked. A lot of people don't.

People, and it isn't specific to me, tend to look at their loved ones, their friends, their families. They see what they expect to see. It isn't fair. It isn't right. People change, they grow, they mature, and become something different with time and changes in circumstances. And when nobody bothers to look to see if something has evolved, they're going to get what they always got.

And not necessarily because it's accurate. Simply because they never bothered to look at reality, instead of the illusion they placed there, themselves.

...just one chance...just in case there's just one left...

I'm so far beyond being able to think or know which end is up, I can't function. Just one more chance.

I can't separate the truth from the lies. I love you. I miss you. You've been gone for too long. I think I might give up if I don't see you anymore. That's how it feels, and it's just squeezing the breath out of me, all day, every day. I wanted more than you could give. And you wanted more than I could give.

I loved you all along. And I forgive you. Believe that.

It doesn't matter anymore. None of it matters anymore. I simply no longer care anymore. Hold on to me, or let me go. I'm so tired of being here, and I need to leave. And soon enough, I'm going to have to do just that. I'll need to sever all those ties, and it will all be done.

I can't heal this way. It hurts, so badly. Time isn't going to heal it. Nothing has. Perhaps distance will, if nothing else.

My heart is always going to belong to you. You can take it or not, it isn't like I'm doing anything with it. I'm not asking for yours in return. I don't need that. I don't even want that. But for all the time I tried to get you to do and be something that you couldn't, I knew better than that. I shouldn't have tried. I don't want anything from you now. You cried, and I held you. I held you, and chased away your fears, and some part of your heart was mine. Some part of it always will be, or you wouldn't fear me.

Some part of me wouldn't be broken, and I could simply look across, and heal. Everything would be over, and we'd just be two people, with nothing left shared. There would be no reason to flinch from the idea of one another, if there was nothing there to fear.

Perhaps if there were a couple thousand miles between us, it would be easier. The idea that there could be no chance meetings, it might be easier. For me, and for you. I'm numb, most of the time. But that I still clutch, and stop breathing if I see something I'm not expecting tells me I'm still not all right.

If I'm expecting it, I can prepare, it's fine. But chance encounters that I cannot control, that's a different story. And I have no way of knowing how things are handled on your side. It's not something we ever discuss. I want no more intrigue. I want nothing but peace. Even friendship seems to have become past the point of redemption.

And the idea of peace in my life is paramount. I've made it very clear that for me, I need to have peace around me, if at all possible. I do the things that suit me, as much as possible. I'm trying to keep stress to a minimum as often as I can, because it was quite literally making me physically ill.

I'm still trying to bounce back from several months of it having taken its toll. And even now, I'm still not up to where I should be. I sleep, sometimes 18 hours a day. I don't advertise that point. But it's the case. I nap, sometimes off and on all day. I do homework, I nap. I pet the cat, I fall asleep with him on my lap. I fall asleep reading. I fall asleep at the computer. I have become over-extended, and the nightmares that plague me make the sleep so lacking in restfulness as to be useless. And that's causing my lupus to flare almost weekly.

I fake it well. I disguise the rashes across my face. I take energy pills. I pound coffee by the potful. But none of that entirely covers the fact that my health is getting steadily worse, and I'm severely over-extended.

And I can't keep doing it anymore. I simply can't. I need a break, and since I don't really have the resources to accomplish that, I've done the next best thing, and pulled back into my shell, to try and recoup the best way I could. I'm trying to figure out a way to get my sanity back intact. I have no other choices available. I'm buried when I can, in an alternate reality video game. It's a sense of distraction, and a way to be someone I'm not. That helps. I can be someone who is healthy, and strong, and all the things I'm not.

.......

I have a great many things that I thought I wanted to say. Many things that I think, or that I feel. I've been very quiet, I hear that a lot lately. Many ask me recently what's wrong. Why I'm avoiding them. What's going on.

I've nothing to say. No anger. No rage. Nothing. I'm not at all peaceful, to be honest. But I don't have anything productive to say. There is petty drama going on, in my circles, none of it anything I have any control over. It's not my life, it's not my problem.

None of your problems are mine any longer. Such were the choices you made. You fear to anger others, fear to anger me, don't want to cause strife, don't want controversy. All of which is fine. You don't want to be my lover. You don't want to be my friend. Honestly, I don't know what anyone wants from me anymore. I don't want to be a friend to anyone anymore. Being a friend has become something that's become a minefield, or perhaps that isn't the correct analogy. A boggy marsh, perhaps?

Not dangerous, just dirty. A place where if you step in the wrong spot, you end up sunk into your knees, covered in something dirty and disgusting. And I don't like to play in the mud. I prefer to be neat, and clean, and orderly. And aren't boggy marshes usually dark as well? Covered with foliage, so it's always twilight, and dusky?

I'd prefer, now, to come out into the sunlight, and stand on solid ground. Even if I need to stand there alone. I like trees. But I'm tired of the pitfalls of a marsh, and would prefer solid, safe footing, and sunlight.

I want to be able to see what I'm looking for, when I glance around me. And if I need to stand alone, to know that what I see within my line of vision is clear and bright, then perhaps that's the way it might need to be for a while. I'm tired of shadows, and wondering what's going to pop out from around a dark corner, and have it cover me in grime. It's depressing, and it's tiresome. And I'm tired of that.

Wondering who to trust, and who wants to hurt me, and why they'd want to keep doing that? It gets old. Whether it's intentional or not, it still gets old. And bloody hell, but if I'm going to be alone 90% of the time anyhow, I might as well at least not be guarding my back from everyone around me. I might as well simply *be* alone entirely, instead of quasi-alone, and wondering when it's going to end up being something I regret.

I'm tired of regretting things. Choices I made that haunt me. Decisions I was forced into, because there were no other options. In the last ten years, I've lived a lifetime of regrets, and now those regrets have finally been narrowed down to a handful. I've rectified what I could. Apologized for what I had no control over, that I knew about, or what I did wrong, that I know about. And my regrets are now down to just a few. And I can live with that, and with those.

But I see no reason to keep moving forward, and racking up more, and adding to a tally sheet more that I don't want. There's no room for regrets in my life now. No reason to feel ashamed of things that I do. I don't feel ashamed of my past anymore, because to a certain extent, my past doesn't define me. It makes me stronger, and I am who I am because of it.

I'm going to cook something tomorrow, and possibly bake. I'm going to work on my next speech, and work on the rest of my reading comp assignments. I should be able to plow through those during one day. I haven't yet decided what else I plan to do. But I think it's time to start making plans, and filling them in, with actual goals, instead of far-off ones.

It's about time to figure out some things. And I'm well on the path to that. I suspect people won't like that.

And I really have become comfortably numb

Which is nice. Whether it be because of a nice insulation of narcotics, or simply because the pain begins to dull, either way is nice.

Right now, it's a nice cloudy haze, but sometimes that isn't it. And I don't much care which.

There was a nice large bout of lying that went on recently, for reasons I'm still not clear on, some people went out of their way to lie to me. Truth would have served better, and the end result is that I'm now simply amused.

I can ferret out information on the internet fairly easily. And I'm a lot more internet savvy than certain others. Simply giving your profile a new 'name' doesn't hide who you are if you're trying to do that. Especially if you're doing silly things like joining domestic violence groups. Kind of shrieks "this is me" at the top of your digital voice. But whatever.

And the ironic part of my having a brand-spanking-new digital identity online somewhere, and having only one or two people having access to that account? Makes it *very* easy for me to track who is watching and reading what I put there. Especially since I blocked out some of them from seeing the things I wrote there. I know who is reading what I write. I know when, and how often. Yes, I set it up as bait. And those people simply couldn't resist running directly to it, and reading it regularly.

It's pretty funny, at least to me. Online stalkers for the win.

They say imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. Well, let me tell you, I'm tired of being flattered. A couple of people will actually grasp that. Sadly, those people won't even admit to having conversations with me, which is sort of amusing in and of itself. Such is life. That's a rant for some other day.

I'm going to go back to bed shortly, after I finish writing and editing an essay that I wrote at the beginning of last week, and turning it back into the online writing center, because I..well, mostly because I can. And then I'll send in my review for yet a different class, and do a couple of other random assignments. And then I'll sleep for another twenty or so hours, attempting to make up for the drain on my energy that I put myself through last week.

Bye.

Let the rain fall down

The speech came, the speech went, the rain falls, the drugs are ingested, and I'm going back to sleep now. Goodnight.

30 hours, 4 pots of coffee, and feeling a little manic

I just started brewing the fifth pot of coffee, and I suspect that in a half an hour when I take my medication for the night, I'll be following it with sleeping pills, or I'll be still so over-wired I won't be able to crash out. I worked straight through for probably twenty hours overall, and rehearsed for another about two. I *think* I have it stable at 7 minutes. Pretty sure. Argument centered on the Equal Protection Rights Act of the Fourteenth Amendment, using court cases from 1948 here in California, 1958 in Virginia, upheld in the Federal Supreme Court in 1967, and a combination analogy in 2005, wrapped together showing that marriage should be genderless, and is a protected right for all men, with "men" also defined as genderless for the purposes of law.

And for fuck's sake, don't even get me started. And just to add to my very quickly modified ending, the day after Prop 8 passed? The ACLU was already in the California Supreme Court submitting the appeal, on November 5, 2008. So yes, I even have the source cited for that.

Ladies and gentlemen, that would be a Statement of Fact, for those of you who were wondering. It is a statement of fact, that the right to be married to the person of your choice is supported by the Equal Protection Rights Act of the Fourteenth Amendment. And then, blah blah blah.

I used the topical pattern for the argument, although it still seems to not be an argument per se, so much as a presentation, but whatever. It's 'rehearsal' until tomorrow, at which it will be 'presented', and then Sunday, I'll be putting together my opposite viewpoint for the speech in two weeks, and I have that under control as well.

The opposite viewpoint doesn't sit as well with me as this one does, but it isn't as abhorrent to me as what I was going to have to do, so I'll suck it up and deal. It's an assignment, and I'll do it. I'm looking forward to the last speech of the class, the one that's three minutes, and fun. Doesn't take as much work either.

I finally got back something from the Online Tutorial Center that was helpful too, and I'll be slogging my way through modifying that on Sunday too, for the final draft next weekend. I want to be able to re-submit it to them, and see if the modifications work, so I have to get it done Sunday. But I liked their suggestions and I'm going to give a good healthy attempt to changing per their suggestions.

Looks like I'm looking at about three hundred dollars for books next semester too. Ugh. Such is life. Wouldn't be hurting as much if the bird hadn't just required new shoes. C'est la vie.

Wow. There were other candidates.

Besides McCain and Obama. I knew that, actually. But the fact that someone I used to know might actually have voted for one of them, absolutely amazes me.

I wouldn't have wanted to see Palin in the White House. The idea turns my stomach. But Alan Keyes *Really*??? Seriously? A bible-toting, gay-bashing, let's abolish abortion asshole? Someone actually voted for *that*??

*WHY*??????

I have apparently no taste other than the ability to ascertain what the ice cream flavor is, obviously. Thank whatever the reigning deity of the day is, that the likes of Alan Keyes won't ever make it into a position of power in this country. WTF were you thinking, dude?
Vote your conscience my ass. And let me guess, you voted for him, *and* managed to vote "No on 8" at the same time? Because *that* makes sense, right?

...chances...changes...

Election day was yesterday, and welcome to our new President-Elect Barack Obama. I'm actually very excited that he's been elected, although I missed his acceptance speech, and McCain's concession speech. I'll check them out on YouTube later tonight, after I finish up my homework. I'm disappointed, intensely disappointed, in California for having passed Prop 8. It saddens me more than I can say.

My horoscope today was kind of amusing, it warned me to beware of things coming back into my life.

And I got a friend request on MySpace today, from Joy. My response? I didn't add her, I simply sent a message to the effect of "Are you kidding?". Because honestly, you dump on me, drop me, and destroy my things while I'm out of town...and then wander back in, and shoot me a friend request as though everything is fine? No, somehow I don't think so. I've had enough of that to last a lifetime.

My playlist on this site has begun to reflect my moods, at least the top selections do, now that I know how to sort through them. So I suppose be warned? If it updates for whatever reason, and there suddenly seems to be a theme? There's probably something going on with me, and I'm in a mood. Nothing new there, I'm always in one mood or another.

Oh. And the frame rates on the new machine, running two instances of WoW simultaneously, along with a chat program, two browsers, and a handful of other things? They're running 40+ FPS. It's *sweet* that it can run that, while in flight, across the Outlands on one continent, and across Kalimdor on the other. Sweet.

Anyhow. I'm slogging through schoolwork, although my grades appear to be holding steady, as long as I can maintain it. It's wearing on me, and emotionally I'm starting to slip. No, there's nothing to be done about it. I'm going to be going onto some tester anti-depressants, and I don't much want to talk about it. I'll be handling it with my doctor, and my therapists. But I don't want anyone telling me I didn't say anything either. If anyone thinks I have emotional extra to help out, no, I don't, I'm sorry. I've gotten to the end of my tether, and I'm simply holding it together the best I can, and while I don't feel like sitting around over coffee sharing feelings, it isn't anything personal against anyone. I just...need to deal.

Next semester, where I don't have to come into contact with actual people, will be better. Except for the stint in April where I have to deal with San Francisco, I can just kind of hide in my little hole, and that will help me tremendously. That's what I need more than anything, is to be left alone, and not have to handle strangers. It's been doing me in, the having to come into contact with people I don't know. I've faked it very well, but ultimately, I rushed headlong into it, and I'm glad I got it over with, but it's been stressful, and I won't try it again for a while.

I'll be looking into Cera Coso, so that I can do more steadily online courses than FCC offers. Thanks Sissa.

In fits and spurts

I'm sort of running, from the new machine. It may or may not actually continue to work. I'll say this, it's insanely fast. But I have no idea whether or not it's working properly. I'm currently attempting to install Warcraft, for sixth time, having had zero success the first five times.

I *do* have the internet working, obviously. I managed to go the operating system working, got the motherboard drivers installed, albeit with several crashes involved there. I installed drivers for the video card, although I have no idea whether or not they're working properly, since I had video installed before, as I could see the monitor. Everything is very *small* now. Much higher resolution than I'm accustomed to. Makes my monitor seem much bigger. Very peculiar.

Very nice man named Richard spent a couple hours here fixing some plumbing stuff in my apartment, he's a musician from Los Angeles, moved back here to take care of his parents. Runs his father's business. About six years older than I am. I helped him figure out how to find musicians on the internet, as he didn't realize that's how you meet local musicians now, and he said he'll be back around tomorrow. Hehe. Incidentally, he's finished working on my apartment. LOL.

Yes, I voted. Blizzard is slow for downloading. Sigh. I got a lot of homework done today, while I was sitting at Jo's, waiting for new shoes to be put on the Thunderbird. Turns out the tires were pretty well shot to hell, and it's just as well I picked up a nail, or that could have been very bad. Three of them were so far shot that they could have blown out at any time. So the bird has new shoes. Poor bird.

This whole month has been really freaking expensive. I may end up going back to work soon, money might end up getting tight if things don't stop being expensive. This is ridiculous. But I couldn't risk having a tire blow with me behind the wheel, I'm not stupid enough to take the chance.

I have a bunch of doc appointments scheduled for the next two weeks, bloodwork and whatnot, regular stuff. Got all my classes for spring semester lined up, slated for Psychology, Health, Intro to linguistics, and Typing. Yes, I know, basic typing is a bonehead course, but hey, everyone needs a little fluff. Still 13 units, thank you very much.

A repost from MySpace bulletins

When you're walking, do you stop to drink?
Not generally, if I have a bottle of something to drink with me.
Otherwise, what would I drink?


Do you believe that if you want something bad enough you'll get it?
I used to believe that, I'm not so sure anymore.



Have you ever kissed someone in a vehicle?
Yes, of course.



Ever snuck out of your house?
Why would I sneak out of my house?


Kill or Be killed?
Kill.



Break someone’s heart or have your heart broken?
My heart seems to be the one that gets broken.



What did you do today?
Played online, did an absurd amount of laundry, was informed about the upcoming "Sword of Truth" show premiering tonight, and spent time with Shawn & Melissa.


Would you ever get a tattoo?
Nope.



What was the last thing you ate?
A pita bread, plain. I should really go and find something more nutritious to eat.


Are you a morning person or a night person?
Neither.
My sleep pattern is completely fucked, and I honestly don't know anymore


Do you snore?
Yup.



Do you know anyone who has gotten an abortion?
Yes.



What would you do if you opened up your front door to a dead body?
Figure that I'd finally complete lost it, and just close the door again.



Do you like to spend time with people?
It sort of depends on who the people are.


Are you hungry?
Yes, as a matter of fact.



Are you a forgiving person?
I can be, but I've gotten really tired over the years of being walked on, and have started requiring more than just basic bullshit excuses for being stomped on.



When was the last time you did the dishes?
This afternoon.



Are you talking to anyone while doing this?
No.



What are you about to do?
Finish up some homework, and then change out yet more laundry, and take some more painkillers. Haven't really thought beyond that.



Have you ever thought someone died, when they really didn't?
No, as a general rule, when I think someone died, they stay dead.



If you could be a superhero what would you want to do?
Time travel seems like a good one.



Your name plus "ness"?
Crysness. That sounds lame.



Three feelings at the moment?
Exhausted, contemplative, and peckish.



Done anything you regret so far in life?
Two things. And they're none of your business.



Are you listening to anything?
Nothing, it's silent here.


Where are you right now?
Sitting at home, filling out this survey.



What are you scared of?
What I'm going to do, and whether or not the plans I want will pan out.



Last movie you watched?
I watched about three minutes of "Happy Feet" this afternoon, does that count?

Last song you sang out loud?
"Shattered" by OAR


Who is the last person you talked to on the phone?
Jeremiah and Josh


Last thing you downloaded on your computer?
Mozilla Firefox

Have you changed much this year?
Yes.



Where was the last place you went besides where you are?
Longs Drugs

Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
No.



Do you speak any other language?
Yes.



Do you dress for style or comfort?
Comfort.


Ever had a drunken night in Mexico?
Nope.



What's the craziest thing you've done?
Threw my entire life out the window on a whim, and then spent the next year trying to figure out what I was going to do next.



Favorite color(s)?
Silver and blue


What is your favorite Nickelback song?
Far Away. I like the lyrics.



What are you looking forward to this summer?
Summer just ended. Thank the gods. Next summer, I'm hoping to go to Montana.


Last time you smiled?
I don't smile often...


If you could have anything in the world, what would you want?
To be understood, and things to not hurt anymore.

Let's do the time warp...

So it would appear that Fresno is putting on a live show, albeit a little tweaked, and somewhat updated from its retro ancestor, of the much-beloved "Rocky Horror Picture Show". That's right, there's going to be a theater show, done at the Artists' Repertory Theatre here in Fresno.

I think it might be interesting, to see a live show, which they admit is geared strictly for the adult audience, and to see how they've 'updated' Rocky Horror.

What I want

More than anything? Is to have enough money to get a plane ticket, to fly to Montana next October, from the 8th until the 11th. Camp Make-A-Dream 14th Annual Women's Cancer Retreat (October 8-11, 2009)

The Women's Cancer Retreat is offered to women who have been diagnosed with any form of cancer and is not diagnosis specific. We can accommodate up to 65 women at each retreat on a first come, first serve basis.

Registration fee for the four-day retreat is $150.00.

* Women who are currently undergoing cancer treatment are welcome
* Medical staff available during the retreat.

To get on the mailing list for this retreat, please contact Jennifer Benton at : jennifer@campdream.org or call (406)549-5987. Registration forms will be available in the spring and posted to this website as well.

Transportation to Montana for these retreats is not included in the registration fee; however, if you are flying into Missoula, Montana, we will pick you up at the Missoula airport and transport you to and from the camp facility in Gold Creek (which is approximately 65 miles east of Missoula).

That's what I want. I want to be able to go, and for four days, spend my time on 85 acres in Montana, with a place full of women like me. Who would understand what it's like to be me, every single day. Survivors, who went through things like I went through, and are still here. I want to be able to afford to fly into Missoula, Montana, and stay at a ranch for four days, and then come back to my life.

Maybe it's stupid, and petty, and pathetic. Making dumb little art projects, and talking with people I don't know, and doing little junior high campfires, or whatever it is you do. But people have been asking me what I want, or why I'm sad, or what's going on. Well, that's what I want. I want to go to a place, where everyone will understand what's going on inside of me. Where I don't need to try and explain it, or put on some sort of happy face for them. Because they'll just *know*.

And I probably won't be able to manage it. But, hey, maybe in a couple of years I'll be able to manage it, and then I'll go. The camp isn't going anyplace. Perhaps I'll see if they need a volunteer for the junior camp, as a counselor or something, and be able to go that way, over the summer. Who knows.

I'm going to bed now. It's raining, and I can sleep, listening to the rain.

When it isn't okay?

What do you do then? And it's a slippery slope, right? When do you decide between taking the pills because you have to take them in order to function, and feel like a human being, or are you taking them to block out the reality that's become your life?

To be somewhat more pleasant, or to just not deal with anything? And yes, you don't actually need to take them. Can go weeks at a time without so much as taking the lid off the bottles. In fact, months in between. But deep down, everything is just so much better when you take them by the handful, all day long. And there's a nice, pleasant haze over everything.

Nothing hurts, then. Physically, some things still hurt. It takes the edge off, and the drugs do what they're designed to do. And hey, you can still function, work, talk, interact with everyone and everything around you. But emotionally? You feel none of the dark despair that coats every aspect of your life, and that's a damn good change of pace.

And when do you decide which way is wrong? After all, they're yours. Nice and sweet and legal. No funny business, nothing wrong here. Even taking less than the recommended doses! Not taking things from other sources, not taking anything off-label. Absolutely nothing strange going on.

But, oh, the wonderful glazed feeling, where nothing can touch you. A haze, where nothing matters, and it doesn't matter what will happen tomorrow, or next week, or hell, even five minutes from now, or two minutes ago. What happened last year, or six months ago? Gone, in a lovely batch of pills that are all yours. And the supply won't run out, because they're meant for you, and no one else.

You don't have to worry about where you'll get more from, and you don't need to think about the things those "other" people who are "addicts" need to think about. It's such a fine line, right? You don't smoke, and you don't drink. And you only take doctor prescribed medications, and you don't do any of the bad things. You're a good person. You don't break laws, and you aren't hurting anyone.

Except maybe yourself. But even that you're not sure about anymore. How can it be bad if it finally makes everything stop hurting for a while? If it makes sleep come, and the nightmares stop? Six months is a long time to go without being able to sleep without nightmares. To try and function like a normal person, without shattering into pieces, with no one to hold onto, and no way to get through.

So who draws the line, between right and wrong, when the only person you have to make decisions for is yourself?

Oh, the Antec 900. Feel the black steel

Yeah, okay. I've gone to the dark side. They had cookies. And better computers. Here are the specs:

Antec 900 Black Steel ATX Mid Tower computer Case

Asus P5Q Pro LGA 775 Intel P45 ATX Intel Motherboard
Intel Core 2 Duo E8500 Wolfdale 3.6 GHz LGA 775 65W Dual-Core Processor

Asus EN9800GTX+ DK/HTDI/512m GeForce 9800 GTX+ 512MB 256-bit GDDR3 PCI Express 2.0 x16 HDCP Ready SLI Supported Video Card

Antec Signature SG650 650W ATX12V/EPS12V SLI Certified CrossFire Ready 80 PLUS Certified Modular Active PFC Power Supply

OCZ Fatal1ty Edition 8 GB (4 X 2GB) 240-Pin DDR SDRAM DDR2 1066 (PS2 8500)

Arctic Cooling Freezer 7 Pro 92mm CPU cooler

Western Digital Caviar SE16 640GB 7200 RPM SATA 3.0Gb/s HD

MS Windows Vista Home Premium SP1 64-bit English for System Builders


And there's a Phillips DVD burner going into the new rig, and my regular keyboard, and a new trackball mouse, the new headset that Sis & Shawn got me for my birthday to use for Vent.


The old system? Being converted into a Linux box, and I'm signing onto the Fresno Linux group, as I'll be needing to learn it, and that's the fastest way I can think of. Guess it's time to embrace my inner geek, and accept that I truly do want to be educated about some things in a more technical fashion.

But that computer's gonna be sweet. Will post pics once I have it up and running. Rest of the parts will be here Monday. Only the case is here so far.

He came back last night, and nothing ever hurt me so much. Standing on the darkened doorstep, the sound of the doorchime echoing through the silent apartment, startling me out of my normal evening routine. I wasn't even particularly thinking of him anymore, when I opened it. And there he was.

And the memories and feelings hit me like a freight train, crushing me under the weight of what I'd lost. What I discovered in that instant I wasn't sure I even wanted again. And still, more fool I, I let him in.

"Are you...?", my words just fell into silence, as I found I had nothing to say, nothing I wanted to ask. Did I want to know why he was there? No, as it turned out. I knew what he was there for. The real question is whether or not I wanted to be that person again.

I waited, to see what he'd say, to see if he'd even bother with an apology. He moved toward me, to hold me, to try and return to the way things had been. And I moved away. It wasn't going to be easy. Things changed, I changed.

Sometimes, things can circle around, and go back and rings within rings can make connections. And sometimes, things just change. And sometimes things can break so many times, that at a certain point, no amount of glue can repair the damage anymore, and cracks show through, and the precious glass shatters into myriad pieces, to never be repaired again.

And sometimes, if the glass is placed under intense fire, it will melt into something new, and sometimes the new art won't look the same. It will meld, and it will change, and it will morph into something entirely different. But different doesn't mean it can't be beautiful and unique. It simply means it is no longer what it was. And the process of tempering it, will make it stronger, because the cracks that were there, have been removed, and the piece is whole once more.

And I looked at him, standing there. With his beautiful eyes, and the body I loved so well, and asked finally, "Why are you here? There isn't really anyone here that you want, is there?", and watched as he stared at me in confusion.

The idea that I'd finally reached the place where I didn't desperately want or need him, or throw myself into his open arms, was beyond comprehension. The concept that I wouldn't just sit, and wait until it was convenient for him to come back and dust me off, and use me again, that didn't make any sense. I could see it in his eyes.

Women didn't get over him, he got over them. He chose when and where and how it ended. And I did the unfathomable, and simply didn't care anymore. I looked at a man I would have willingly walked through fire for, and felt...nothing. Less than nothing, when I realized I couldn't quite work up enough concern to even ask how he was doing, or any of the common courtesy questions that one asks an acquaintance.

And he talked, because he never lacked for his poetic words, beautiful words that meant nothing, and when he ran out of those words, I let him leave. Because it doesn't matter anymore, and then it was over. There was nothing left to try and save. The feelings were all on my side, and all his pretty words were lies. Certainly, he would have preferred it if he'd been able to get laid again. For I was good at that, and there were side benefits to it. But we weren't even friends, it was nothing more than a convenient outlet for him, which I suspect was truly why he was here.

He isn't capable of being honest with himself enough to admit that. He never will be able to be honest enough to see a lot of things about himself. He will continue to go on his way, and manipulate and use the women who fall prey to his charm, and the beautiful words he can speak and write, and then be left behind when he grows bored, and moves on to the next one that he falls in love with.

And that's fine, as long as the victims aren't me. Let someone else pick up the pieces of the poor, shattered man that he portrays. Let someone else comfort him in the middle of the night, and try to take care of him. He took everything I had to give, and gave me absolutely nothing in return, and it took me a very long time to see any of it. I made excuse after excuse for his pathetic behaviour, and made myself into a fool, and made myself available to be emotionally destroyed.

Epic fail on my part. No more.

Air, Earth, Fire, Water - Elemental - Spirit

Air is not for me, it's not mine. I have almost no affinity for the common themes of Air when associated with my path, with the things I choose to follow. New beginnings, childhood and fresh starts. Brightness, light. The things that surround and lift, and represent through air, those things aren't me. It's actually fairly apt that it's not my sign, or the symbol to fit me. There are two, both water and fire are mine. Water, as my Zodiac Cancer, and Fire for my Chinese Snake, both are mine. Peculiar, as I once would have thought they might have canceled each other out, but they don't.

They balance me, now. I love the rain. I love the sound of it, the smell of it, and as I've written before, the first good storm of a season soothes me in a way nothing else can. The ocean has the same effect, and I'll most likely head for it soon, to escape all the turmoil that's been going on here for the last few weeks if I can manage it. I might not be able to, and if I can't, I'll head for the nearest large body of water, because it calms me down.

And Fire. Fire still seems apt to fit me, even now. I'm more calm than I used to be. But under the calm exterior I've learned to present, if someone managed to take a reading showing what went on under that surface, it would flame bright and high, and clean. And it would most likely be vicious, and of the third-degree variety. And yet, I can sit cold as ice, under most circumstances now.

More so, over the last couple of months. I've been refining, and meditating, and it's becoming more evident in my control. And I've had fairly good control, and it's better now. I've been practicing more than I have in years, now that I'm in school, I've simply chosen to increase my practice of Wicca as well. And I'm glad that I did.

And then there's earth. I choose to embrace that, as it interests me, more than because it chooses me. Nature interests me. Not in the "oh, let's go camping" kind of interest, but in the aspect that I can feel the things around me, and that makes me feel complete. And I enjoy that, and I see no reason to not embrace that.

And last, but not least, I'll throw out there for good measure, to anyone who is interested, spirit. The last element, as it were. Because there are five, total, that make up who and what I am, and what makes me, me. And makes me whole.

Some of them are broken right now, and I'm working on repairing that. It's been a long month, and I'm filled with nothing but gratitude that I have the next little while that I can focus solely on pulling myself out of the slump, and that Samhain approaches quickly now, and as such, can pass on by, and be done with it. It's time now, to move on, and to let the veil stop being quite so thin.

I'm going to need to re-read this tomorrow, as it's very late, and I'm not certain of the coherency of this post. I'm exhausted, again. Brody, if it doesn't make sense, tell me tomorrow.