"hnggghhhhhhh" - that's me blowing my nose

It certainly feels strange that I haven't blogged in a while. It's a constant "to do" thought in my head.

I've been sick. I'm still sick. Ugh! Can someone heal me now?

I thought I might have something interesting to post, but it turns out I'm too sleepy to write.

I will say, however, that clubs are such a good place to feel the big arms of loneliness wrap around you. It's a dark, suffocating embrace. First I thought it was my mood. I had a better time this past weekend, but when I got home, the same feeling came over me. I had been fighting it the whole night, and I was successful. I walked through my door and it followed me in.

oui!

when someone knows you so well...

...it's hard to figure out when things changed. How is it that love changes? That's part of his power---his knowledge of why I do things. And I guess mine is my ability to make him react.

I realized today that despite my knowing that things have changed, I haven't accepted it all as I thought I had. There seems to be a lingering denial. I've had glimpses of this, with the softly-lit scenes that flit about in my head on very, very rare occasions. Today, though, that hit home.

This explains why I actually dread it when someone seems to be really interested in talking to me. I know that I could be missing out on wonderful friendships. But it's obviously a defense mechanism. I don't want to get even remotely close to the possibility of dating someone. OH WOW!! I just wrote that. I'm so not ready.

I don't even check guys out yet. When I have done so, it was because I reminded myself that there are probably cute guys in [insert place here]. Mostly, if I seem to catch someone's eye, I avert my gaze and I want to become as inconspicuous as possible. Don't get me wrong, it's not like guys are always checking me out. Nuh uh. Basically, in the few instances that someone starts to take notice, I want them to go away.

Yeah...that's pretty messed up. But I think it all just has to do with my not being ready for anything right now.

It's kind of upsetting. And if I didn't have to go out after work today, I would've just sat here and had a good cry. I still feel one coming on, but I have to eat. So it looks like I'll be able to divert my attention elsewhere for a might longer.

ahhh...

Ok. Much better now. I think I just needed a work out. Practice was AWEsome! I'm beginning not to be so self-conscious. I improved a wee bit today too.

I can now also scratch 2 things off my to-do list. Wunderbar!!



And the lightning crashed upon a tree---split it in two, right down its centre. And the flower wept and feared the worst. The sky lit up once more. It revealed a nook at the tree's base from which emerged a wide-eyed chipmunk, wondering why it survived and where it would go.

gah!!

You know it's bad when you blog multiple times a day. Well, that's what it means for me, anyway.

I've got a million things I'd like to get done, but I can't seem to do them. I'm going to practice, so that's one important thing down, but I also need to:

- think of an article topic
- finish the application
- get started on new pieces
- call my teacher
- put photos up
- fold my clothes and put them in drawers
- go to the bookstore, w/c I forgot to do today
- shop for a friend's wedding gift
- read lots and lots

I get annoyed when I don't get reading time. Yes, yes, prioritize, make up a schedule. I have convinced others of the virtue of such an undertaking. I have found it an excellent tool. Lately it's like I've got ADD, though. I start something and remember that I have to do another, then I start that and nothing's finished!

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

There is a very simple solution to this, ladies and gentlemen, and dogs, let's not forget the dogs...finish one thing before starting the next. And make a prioritized list of tasks, crossing off each one as they are completed. In this manner, you will be satisfied because you have completed something. Above all, be realistic and schedule breaks. You are not a super human.

mixed emotions

I'm getting that confused jumble of thoughts in my head. It only leads to one place...the thought that I'm not quite sure how to present myself to others, not sure which side to show.

I think it's a consequence of being brought up to keep private things private. I can talk to anybody, chat it up, but do I really say anything about myself? Only very few people know me intimately, even among my close group of girl friends. People wouldn't call me shy, but I've been told a number of times that it's hard for them to see who I am.

I truly envy those people who can just write or say anything. They seem to get involved in interesting, in-depth conversations. It's not like I haven't, but I contribute very generalized comments, using such pronouns as "we" or "one" in conversations that make me dig deeper into my thoughts and analyze my values more closely.

What am I afraid of? I'm pretty sure, though this isn't definitive, that I'm afraid that people will laugh, think I'm dumb, think I'm narrow-minded. The latter is the worst thought. Because I know that there are probably ideals that I fight to hang onto that may seem conservative to most, particularly with regard to sex. I fear that if I vocalize them, people will get the wrong idea; think that I can no longer understand them. It's just so hard to convey the intricate fibres of thoughts that linger around the more visible threads in my mind---the fibres that allow me to understand completely where other people are coming from because the very same thoughts challenge me all the time.

Anyway, I envy those who, as a result of their openness, seem so incredibly interesting and get interesting feedback in return.

Hmmm...I think I require adjustment. I'm not sure how, though.

sleepy

I get cranky when I'm sleepy and talking to my parents. It's so horrible. They're on the phone and all I can think of is, 'oh no, I must get off the phone. I'm soooo sleepy..."uh huh. yup. oh well. uh huh. ok, I have to sleep now".

Then I feel mean, coz I don't talk to them for too long as it is.

Also...sometimes I think that I don't want to write anything here because I don't want to bore the few people who read my blog. But then, I remember that the reason I started this whole thing was really for me to have some place to write without really caring if anyone reads it or not. It's funny how, once you know people read stuff, you take them into account. Well, at least I seem to, though I'm trying not to. Not coz I don't care, but I wanna keep it honest. Well, as honest as I can be without giving away too much of my life in case someone I know comes across this.


I'm grumpy. G'night.

a squirrel inquiry

You know, speaking of squirrels, despite there being so many, I don't know what squirrel poop looks like. Any idea?

squirrel on high

I just remembered that I saw the strangest squirrel behaviour ever. I saw this squirrel whose tail was rotating like a propeller. It made jerky, compulsive movements under a parked car and eventually came to rest (I don't even know how) on its side, just beside the wheel, in plain view. It lay there for a good minute, breathing heavily. It didn't move when I stood to look at it, except for eyes that looked downward to look at me. They weren't even curious eyes, wondering why I was there. It was too intent on lying there, recovering from the burst of energy that I'm pretty sure caused a loud thumping sound that first made me take notice of it. I swear, I thought someone had thrown the squirrel down. Then I figured it had taken drugs and was jumping up and down under the car.

After the self-absorbed, unseeing look it gave me, I moved away, suddenly fearing that it was rabid and would attack me. I've never been so scared of a squirrel in my life.

wish

You know what I wish for most right now? That he would just come home. I really have given up, as in I no longer expect anything. I don't expect e-mails or phone calls, or funny stuff relayed.

I haven't written about this lately, or blogged too frequently, because I'm truly having an awesome summer so far!! It's been a good balance between thinking time and doing time, me time and other people time. So, it has become easier for me to distance myself from the situation.

I still really miss him though. And he has NO idea. Someone commented sometime ago that I should just tell him. I can't right now. He's not here. So, it's hard to tell whether there might be a hint of anything he felt before. But the fact that I don't know doesn't bug me too much now.

I wish he'd just come home. And I wish a thousand other beautiful things, though wistfully, and without much hope. I no longer really chase after it like I used to, that is, to the extent that unspoken emotions can "chase".

All that happened to change the way I look at it is that I got tired of the push and pull of emotions. It wasn't good for me---the thinking, analyzing. Thankfully, there's a limit to how much trouble I will allow myself to go through. If I have to work so hard and always feel like I don't get anything out of it, then it can't all be good. Maybe that just means it's not right. Period. The end.

So that's why I gave up. That's why I don't get the tingly feeling I used to get when he'd say something even remotely sweet. I just take them as they are...words on a page, meaning nothing more than the most basic implications of language in context, with no imposed connotations.

Still, I wish he were here.

For those who read this...how are you guys doing? What's life like on your side of the world? I hope all is well and the world is full of colour for you! If any of you have blogs, I'd be happy to take a peek, if you'll let me. If not, that's cool too.

reaching out

installation by Andrew Wright

Installation art hasn't really sparked much interest in me, but this did. There's something disturbing to me about the hands reaching out. I imagine running my hands across their fingertips, not allowing them to grasp my hand, and I imagine that it would feel like cold, fleshy stubs, writhing, wriggling, feeling like thick worm heads, longing to be held by warmth. Then, another scenario...teasing the hands I pass by making contact with the length of fingers, with palms, maybe holding hands every now and then. What would I feel? Caresses, fingers tickling my palm, a flick, a pinch, a clap.

Most disturbing would be desperate clutches at my hand. I would feel an urgent cry for help that comes from a mouthless, body-less being. It has nothing but two hands that need to express and to be understood. I try understanding, asking questions, but these don't help. They can't hear! They communicate with touch and gesture and nothing more. The hands create various languages but I can't understand. Soon, the grasp is one of angry frustration. Scared, I wrest my hand free. I look back and it still signals for me. I can't help. What am I leaving behind? From what does it need to be freed?

For more info on this artist, visit this site.

void

i'm pissed off in a really hurt way. and i'm definitely giving up.

just read this

When I think on my friends,...I realize that these people who have supported me, these people who have been the only glimmers, err some of the glimmers, one of my few sources of happiness will soon become unavailable to me; or less available to me. So when I think on these things, I think that if it's going to happen regardless; whether I want it to happen or not, perhaps I should choose to do it. Or rather choose one of those courses of actions, I always feared to choose because I might loose contact with the friends I had already, seeing as how they will eventually run off in their own 'pursuit of happiness' anyway.

...found that in someone's blog. Sad. I've so often felt/thought that.

heartbreak

We've experienced heartbreak. Men (maybe boys, actually) have, for whatever reason, decided not to commit themselves to us.

No real reason to mention that except that I find it rather odd that we share this experience.

I'm also really tired of waiting. Does everyone kind of wait after losing someone? Why do I keep waiting? Why is it that guys never seem to do the waiting? I haven't met one guy that has. Well, ok, maybe one, but only sorta, ok, he doesn't count either.

Yesterday, I actually decided that I was sick of waiting, sick of thinking. It's like chasing water being drawn by the sun. It's way stronger than I am. All I feel is the painful heat that's burning me.

I think I'm heading for the shade for a bit. Until the sun isn't too hot and blinding. Maybe I'll bask in it again at dawn...gentler light, the world looking new.

closing time

I spent an incredible day with my friends.

We haven't spent a whole day together in such a long time. I feel like a chapter of our lives is closing. We've been safe, living within a 15 min. maximum radius from each other. It's not like we spent every day together, but just knowing that we're there makes it feel safe. This really has been home to me---they've been home to me---for...9 years!

But things are shifting. We HAVE grown up. Jobs, financial reasons, relationship reasons, are coaxing us to stretch the heartstrings that hold us together---like rubber bands. They're stretching. I know they'll never break. But the people on the other ends may turn around the curb, out of sight. I'm sure I'll do my share of the stretching. More and more, it's going to be harder for us to pick up the phone and decide to do something on the spur of the moment. I won't be able to just up and decide to walk over to ____'s house.

We were all sitting around my dining room table and I couldn't help thinking how nice and happy it was. And I wonder if it'll ever happen again. It probably will, but maybe it won't be the same. Maybe better? Maybe we'll all find what's best for ourselves and that future gathering will be an even happier one.

My friends are incredible. Sometimes, some of them have annoyed me, and I'm sure I've annoyed them, but in the end, we know we're there for each other.

It's a little disturbing for me to wonder whether I've become too comfortable. I don't like things shaking up my world too much. It's possible that there's good reason for this. I've done a lot of shaking things up. I'm happy to have experienced stability. But in discussing ____'s future today, I realized that maybe I've been waiting for life to throw something good my way. I used to work really hard for what I wanted, but somehow, I got into a comfortable niche, and haven't thought that maybe there's something better that awaits, if only I look out for it and reach out.

I'm scared of what'll happen to me when they go or when I go. I know that I'm scared of being alone, despite knowing that I'll make more friends. But they'll never be THESE friends. I think it's partly the fear that there is nothing better out there.

I'm really gonna miss them. There was so much freedom in all of this. I love them so much!

I HATE YOU!

I HATE YOU!! i hate you for still having the power to make me cry. for making me reminisce. how am i supposed to reach out in friendship if you are still able to make me hurt and live in limbo like this?!! you're so sad right now that it makes me really sad. it makes me want to talk to you like we used to. then you make me feel like a bitch, even though all you've done is share what's going on with you. but you make me feel like a bitch because i can't bring myself to write back. not when i don't know how. but i know that you need me. well, i'm working hard at not needing you. don't you understand that?! i'm working really hard. and you keep setting me back, though you don't know it. but if i write all this to you, it'll be like a kick in the groin when you're down, coz it sounds like you really need a true friend right now.

STOP PUTTING ME INTO SUCH A STATE OF CONFUSION!! IT'S NOT FAIR!! YOU MADE A DECISION, NOW LIVE WITH IT! I'M LIVING WITH IT, AND IT WASN'T EVEN MINE TO START.

but if i turn my back on you, i'll feel bad. because i am luckier to have all my friends and family with me. but is it my duty to help you? duty as what? a friend? it shouldn't even feel like a duty, but you're NOT my friend. not right now.

PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE! even if i don't want you to. it's just that i really need you to find your own life now, as much as this means leaving me out of it.

what does this look like to you?

I couldn't resist. I was doing dishes and I saw this. I've been pretty wholesome in this blog so far, so I figure I'm entitled every once in a while.

blech!

I sound so emotional in my entries!! People get such a one-sided view. It's really too bad that I can't go into detail about the fun stuff I do because I don't want people to be able to connect this blog to me. I will say, however, that I went to this AWESOME little club last night. Best live music I've heard in a while and incredible atmosphere. Most times, when I walk into a new place, I don't feel like I fit in, but there, it instantly felt comfortable...super chill.

Anyway, I was reading past entries and I thought that I sound so boring, talking about the same stuff all the time!! I think about a lot of that stuff because I'm really dealing with them. I actually thought, "God, get a life already. Stop moping! I can't stand it anymore!" I sound like some pretentious, depressed artist. You know the type...[in a rough, smoke- and drink-affected voice]'I'm so depressed, man. It hurts...so I turn pain into inspiration, or just allow myself to feeeeel'. Yikes! I sicken myself.

This is why I hate what I write. After a while I can't stand it. There are very few things that I have written that don't make me flinch.

Anyhoo...HAPPY VICTORIA DAY LONG WEEKEND!!

transient

I find it terribly hard to comprehend the reality that objects, things that don't make a difference in this world, last beyond the people that create them; exist years after what gave them meaning is only a memory, if that. There's no life there. But we give them life through the memories and emotions imposed on them. Why do we even have to do that? What makes it so hard for humans to just let go. Because we are our memories. (I recall reading some philosopher that said that, don't remember who.) Without them, who are we? Who can prove that we existed? But they're just memories. They make us nostalgic and in a lot of cases hold us back and we have to tire ourselves fighting to rise above it. Even happy memories tend to make us wish we could relive the past again, even if we're happy with things now. I use 'we' a lot. I really mean "I". But I know lots of people who feel that way.

carved on wood
x + y
up in the heights
creaky tower overlooking green
held up against time and elements
for all to see

but it's no longer true
so many lies etched
outliving truth

How can mere objects last longer than real, supposedly true feelings? Longer than the real, meaningful, intertwining of two lives? People who walk, think, feel, make a difference, and who are so important don't last that long. It's not fair. Tonight, I can't get over how unjust that is. I can count on my sofa to last longer than anything people-related. And I want to hang on to people and not lose touch. And I feel like I'm missing out if I can't be with one friend or another.

But when you hang on to a memento, there's really nothing there anymore. My mind places meaning and memory...projects it onto a lifeless souvenir. That doesn't mean anything. It's really not fair.

reinventing

Of late, I've been feeling like I don't really know how I'm supposed to present myself. I'm noticing that various aspects of who I am are coming out. I'm realizing that my interests are vast. I don't think I have time to pursue all of them to the extent I want. Do you ever get the feeling of stepping out of yourself and looking at yourself through the way others must see you? That's been happening more frequently to me. Sometimes it gets me down somewhat and I grow quiet.

I thought that at this age, I should know who I am. For a while, I was really secure in my knowledge of that. I still know what I value most, but sometimes I don't think I fit into myself quite the way I would like. The suit makes me a little awkward.

Maybe people always reinvent themselves, particularly when life-changing events happen. I feel anxious at times, because I feel like I should be at a particular point in self-determination by this time. But I hazard to guess that there are many people, much older than I, who, for whatever reason, don't quite know who they are anymore.

Maybe I have to settle into not fully knowing who I am exactly.