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[28 Jun 2006|09:49am] |
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
-Frank Herbert, Dune
This is here as a reminder to me...
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| Life happened in between |
[27 Jun 2006|07:54pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 cheerful |
] |
In the interests of coherence, I shall attempt to form this post chronologically.
Thursday, I was getting ready to skip my calc class, because the only real reason to go was to take a quiz that i was going to fail anyway. Fortunately, i mentioned it to hafner and he basically forced me to go, on the logic that i might get a few points and the prof would appreciate the fact that i had at least shown up for class. Much to my pleasure, it turned out that the quiz was a take-home, effectively letting me off the hook. I vowed to do it sometime over the weekend, and then shelved the issue. (On a side note, there is a random door in the classroom that i plan on stealing; i'm pretty sure i'm going to ask the building's custodian first tho)
Between thursday's class and friday afternoon, absolutely nothing happened.
Friday afternoon I got up, packed some shit, and drove out to Miss Biteme's (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8) btfulnightmare's) house. Of course i had like 50 tangents while trying to pack, so i didn't actually get there until more than hour after originally planned. Oh well. We went to her sister's softball game where, in addition to the lines already mentioned, we had this conversation:
Miss Biteme's Mom: What are all these bruises?
Miss Biteme: They're bite marks.
The Mom: Well at least cover them up, or something...
And as we were leaving...
The Mom, to me: And you. Stop biting her!
I forget what happened after this, except us going back to prepare for rocky and me getting sick and keeping us home. It was fun anyway, we bought shitty movies, et cetera.
Sunday I actually have no idea what happened. If you saw me on sunday, please help me out and agree to tell the police that i was with you all day. This sort of thing doesn't happen too often, I swear.
Monday Miss Biteme had very little work to do, so we spent most of the day lounging around in between fun. We seriously just kept ending up in bed. No complaint whatsoever. That night she made an impromptu dinner, which was fabulous, after which i convinced her to go to sylvari's house on the logic that fresh brownies are better than store brownies (sylvari points out that they were still store-bought as they came from a box, but the came out of a freaking oven right before we ate them, so whatever). After some amusing conversation including rants against stupidity, we headed back to milady's apt.
Today she didn't have to work until 2, so we were able to have a nice breakfast and more fun. At 1:23 she got a call asking if she was going to show up for her 1:30 appointment, so she had to fly out the door. I finished gathering my things and left, and i'm pretty sure the only thing I forgot was the directions. I figured it out anyway. Basically, go east.
I got back to the frat house of dooooooooom, to find that my knife order had arrived. Woot. So i'm playing with a brand-new, uber-sharp, butterfly knife. It has a fairly stiff action, and at first it doesn't occur to me to loosen it any. Then it sticks weird, I shift grips early, and cut the everloving shit out of the middle, ring, and pinkie fingers on my right hand. I'm pretty sure the index finger should require stitches (exposed fatty tissue), but i don't really care right now. Cared for my wounds and then spent a little more time just hanging out.
You may have noticed that since mentioning it on thursday, I have not said word one about this take-home quiz. That's because I totally put it off. Fifteen minutes before class, I call a friend and ask him to help, telling him i will be at his apt. in five. I get accosted three times on the way out of the house, and get there approximately seven minutes and thirty seconds before class starts. Whatever. I finished the quiz (I think i did ok), and was only late to class by an hour. I got there and she was just finishing up with talking about the quiz, which was nice, because I was there for the actual review stuff. Then we got out early and I headed back, and since then i've talked to people and written this post.
On a side note, the only problem i have with typing is mild pain and the fact that the bandaids are trying to stick together - fortunately, no loss of mobility.
PS: Don't exactly know how i forgot this, but i got another cartilage piercing, and my nipple pierced as well. The right one. Because otherwise it'd just be wrong, wouldn't it?
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| Inexplicably off |
[21 Jun 2006|04:23am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 anxious |
] |
Actually had a great day. Woke up to a warm girl in my (well, her) bed. Had just enough change to take the pike home (this can only mean i'm doing something right). Got back, had a little bit of time to hang out, etc. Visited with some friends, borrowed enough money to support my cigarette habit for another couple of days (yaay death in small boxes). Arranged for a funds transfer to support my cigarette habit even more (and pay bills, but who cares about that?). Hit on my neighbor, Butch Tanya, because we find it hilarious. Went to Calculus, where I proceeded to write four lines of notes and then fill the rest of my paper with experimental celtic knots and other geometric designs. Yeah, i love that class. For some reason, I was feeling really weird when i got out of class, so I decided to go get some KFC. Drove around a bit with Tanya while we discussed what's going on. Beautiful fucking sunset with clouds all around. Note to self: Bring. Camera. Always. Got back and we stood in the rain for awhile, just basking. Ate, talked to the ex-fiancee (who attempted to assert that she pays her therapist less than she pays me, the crazy bitch), visited with some other people. For some reason this was a day for people stopping by. Spent about four hours putting the design for my next tattoo into Flash, and experimenting with the final bits. Talked to Miss Biteme for a few hours (I don't know how we manage to do that... not like we were breathing into the phone, it was valid conversation (except for that part where she told me to shut up, and, you know...)). Watched some funny videos my friends had sent me. And now here I am... in spite of what sounds like a fairly idyllic day, I still don't feel right. Where's the catch?
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[20 Jun 2006|10:58am] |
| [ |
mood |
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content |
] |
So apparently people have trouble stalking me to their full potential without the benefit of regular livejournal posting on my part. Therefore, in the name of charity, I'll try to put some shit here on occation.
In recent news:
Saw Rent on friday night with Butch Tanya, El Jefe, and Miss Biteme. OMFG. It was amazing. If you like musicals or rock operas at all, I highly recommend it. I had some minor criticism, mainly in regard to the weak singing on the part of a Mark and Mimi, but aside from that, I was blown away. The energy was great, the stage movement was great (specifically the juxtaposition of geographically separated characters involved in duets and choruses). Also, Joanne and Maureen were played by such strong singers that "Take Me or Leave Me," gave me chills. The only reason I didn't have to change pants was that I had a convenient cup of ice on hand. Lucky me.
Fucked up my ankle on saturday; it still looks like shit but it's healing up nicely. This was while I was at the gay pride thingy in Providence, which was unbelievably awesome. There's something great about skinny gay men in spandex doing interpretive dance to the sound of a marching band. It was almost as good as the gay flag corps (attached to the same band), all cheerful and all in wonderfully white jeans. Fucking priceless.
Sunday I took Miss Biteme back out to western mass, where we basically hung out and ran silly errands, among other things which i would like to mention but shall not, in the interests of modesty. Suffice to say that i had a fantastic weekend.
And now I'm back in Worcester (hereafter referred to as the Ghetto), where I'm contemplating a shower and wondering when I'll force myself to do things like study calculus and pay bills. It'll happen today, I swear...
Pace,
Devo
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| Up and down |
[13 Jun 2006|08:53am] |
| [ |
mood |
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frustrated |
] |
TOO MUCH FUCKING DRAMA.
I hate this shit.
And what does emo-hating devo want to do when this shit pops up now?
cut cut cut cut cut cut cut cut cut cut
whee!
I don't even fucking know what to say anymore.
None of this is even my fault, so why does it seem like i have to deal with all of it?
Fuck it, i'll let you know how it clots the next time i'm on.
Fuck you, too.
Oh, and try this one: if you're not going to be honest, don't be all surprised when you find out that people are pissed off at you.
It's because you were fucking dishonest.
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[26 Jul 2005|09:25pm] |
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mood |
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 scared |
] |
Bill Bites Back watch out, people; i know this is causing me a problem and may cause problems for some of the rest of ya. just something to think about...
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| End of this road... |
[19 Jul 2005|02:29am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 awake |
] |
What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been; but I'm finally in the ginormous ubercity referred to as houston, tx (with various random colloquial pronunciations). Picture, if you will, the Metaverse from Neal Stephenson's Snowcrash////////////??????????????????????????????????????????(fixing keyboard) (if you haven't read snowcrash, hurry up and get a copy before i find out. I'm pretty sure em would've, nina the book maven can find it easily enough, and kate, your brother has a copy). In a context without size or mass constraints, the advertisements in the metaverse can run right up to you, and will in fact do their damnedest to get your attention any way that they can - crashing planes into you, offering free virtual sex, etc.. Now, picture this futuristic vision of a cybernetic city superimposed on the most vast, sprawling concrete jungle you've ever seen. I'm speeding, but only modestly because I'm almost legally blind as a result of the light-parade on my windshield, and people keep flying by me at somewhere between ninety and one hundred miles per hour... This place is truly out of proportion to anything I've ever seen before, and I know you timid folks from the quaint state of R.F.I. would think you'd been dropped off in satan's backyard after being fed a sheet of peyote buttons. I'll leave it at that. l8r. @150, X?3(+ +3h |\|3X+ ?05+ 1|\| 133+. Yeah, start studyin...
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| Make a difference through acquiescence... |
[22 Jun 2005|02:48pm] |
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mood |
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content |
] |
I've decided to help people whenever I can, however I can... when it doesn't interfere with me carrying out the operations necessary to the pursuit of my lifestyle. I need to learn where to draw the line between healthy giving and bleeding out for the sake of another, because I've done the latter two many times. I will apologize for hurting someone, however, I will not apologize for my lifestyle or for doing necessary things just because these things give someone else a problem. Another person's problem is not my problem, though if i can i will try to help them. Another person's pain, though felt by me (because it usually is), does not have to be my pain. Taking on another person's pain is no way to help them solve their problem. Pain is not the problem; one must find the root of the pain and solve the problem therein. Again, while I may (and often do) find a solution to someone's problem, all that I can do is offer them a solution and offer my assistance in reaching that solution. Whether or not they accept my words, or my assistance, is their problem. I cannot blame myself for this. Any comments or suggestions you may have will be most welcome, however, beware the dreaded discussion.
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| I'm Serious... |
[08 Jun 2005|10:35pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 infuriated |
] |
Ok, here's the deal: I take what I'm about to say very seriously, even though I'm sure that even if anybody reads this, they probably won't afford it the gravity it deserves. That's just the point; they never do. I try to be lighthearted when I can, try to laugh it up like everyone else, try to stay on the same wavelength. And when I'm being serious, I make that clear. Why does everyone seem to find it necessary to take me with a grain of salt? Am I a jackass? Some fucking comedic figure? Am I ridiculous? I'm a fucking joke to you people. I try to help and you fucking shrug me off. I see the way things really are and you shrug me off. I do everything for you, and you fucking shrug me off. This is why I have a temper, because even after I've done my very best to make it clear that I'm serious and someone needs to listen, I still get treated lightly. Well, fuck that. Let me know when you're ready to fucking listen, assholes; I'm pretty sure that from now on I'll be ready to tell you just exactly what your fucking problem is.
Woe unto the world
To be shown the truth, only to
Think it just a joke.
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| HISS: How Is Saturday Shit? |
[06 Jun 2005|03:43pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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Forcefully Neutral |
] |
I'm going to give the rundown on what happened saturday, but first, some background. Mesa is this woman who goes to the church that my parents and siblings had been attending. My mother was away for the weekend looking at houses in Texas, so Mesa was staying at our house - primarily to take care of my brother and see to it that he got to school on Friday, etc..
Also, Sunday was the childrens' service at this church (The Unitarian Universalist Church), and after much badgering, Mesa had convinced my sister to perform. My sister wanted to play Pure Imagination, but all Mesa got her was the guitar tab. So she's gonna play it on flute... with the guitar tab. Right. So apparently my sister keeps going "I'm working on it, I'm gonna get to it..." but never did. What was actually happening was that my sister didn't want to do it, never did, but still didn't want to have to disappoint Mesa (who is one of those people who comes across like a retarded child, so you really hate to see the look on their - plus she's really overbearing and probably would've just badgered her again until she did it) by telling her no.
So at some point saturday afternoon Olivia goes "I can't do this," and I start translating the tab (quickly realizing that the tab is not only an octave off, but in the wrong key as well). Immediately after I start, Olivia discovers (or announces) that she doesn't have her good flute... and the only other one we have is shit-for-tone. So I start planning on playing. I'm trying to fucking help MESA. Mesa keeps ranting about how Olivia said she would do it and how Olivia is being all passive-agressive and all this shit... while I'm doing my best to fix it.
At some point, around midnight or half-past, my sister decides (justifiably) that she's tired of hearing Mesa's bullshit and she wants to go for a walk. Corey (Mesa's daughter) and Rick (another friend of ours) decide they want to go with her. Mesa registers no objection to the time of their leaving, nor does she so much as suggest a time she wishes them to return.
So around 2:30 Mesa starts freaking out. "Where's my baby, I need my daughter now." Starts calling my sister's phone repeatedly. At some point I go check the train tracks, thinking that if they're coming from Ricks then they might pass by that way. No dice, but as i get back to the house Mesa's coming out and says, "They're at the Hess Station on Social Street, I'm going to get them."
I reply, "Mesa, let me go get them, you're freaking out right now, please just let me go."
And she says, "You can get your sister if you want, but i'm getting my daughter.
So I grab my keys, jump in the car, and head over there. As soon as our caravan arrives, Corey comes over and gets in Mesa's van. At this point I drive across the street to where Rick and Olivia are. I park the car, get out, and go over to talk to them for a few minutes (Lucas, Olivia's absentee boyfriend, is there as well, having walked over to visit with them for awhile). After about fifteen minutes I decide it's time to go, and we all get in my car. The plan, at this point, is to take Lucas home, then bring Rick and Olivia back to my house.
As soon as we get on the road, however, a cop (who has been lurking nearby for a few minutes) pulls us over. Of course, disclosure #1 for me was "I don't have a license." After which I give the cop the whole story, much peppered with 'Sir's and 'Officer's. Rick's the only one with an ID, so the cop takes that, along with my registration (I don't mention that I don't have a current insurance card with me).
Then the cop starts asking the asshole questions, like "when did this happen," pointing to the gouges on my driver's side.
"Several months ago" is my reply.
"There's no rust on this," he says, as if trying to catch me in a lie.
"I don't know what to say about that, Officer," I come back, about as un-sarcastically as I've ever said anything.
Not much happens after that aside from the fact that throughout this encounter other cops drive by, sometimes getting out to ask me random questions, sometiems just shooting the shit with my officer for a minute and then leaving. To be succint, the cop gives me back my registration and says "go home." After getting Rick's ID back from the officer, I depart the scene and return home.
Rick, who is tired, get dropped off. I pick up my wallet and go back out to take Lucas home. We get to Lucas's area and Olivia and Lucas spend a few minutes whispering sweet nothings (or whatever you can get away with while your brother is in the front seat turning up the music and trying not to pay attention to you (making out, probably)).
By the time I return home with my sister, it's about 5. Olivia beelines for the computer and I pack up my trombone so I can have it ready in the morning (or rather, in 5 hours). Mesa immediately comes out and starts grilling me on what happened. Foolishly, I tell her. When I finish Mesa starts in bitching about my sister again, to which I reply, "I've done everything I can to fix this. I'm playing the fucking trombone for you in a few hours. I'm tired of hearing about it. I'm over it. If anybody still wants to talk about it, they can talk to somebody else."
"You know, you don't have to play tomorrow if you don't want to," she responds, insulting me maybe as much as anyone ever has.
"I just spent fucking hours learning this song for you, and be damned if i don't fucking play it tomorrow."
Then Mesa decides she can't sleep and she has to go see her boyfriend, so she leaves the house (containing myself, my sister, my brother, rick, and Mesa's two children (including the one she had to get home.
Foolishly, I think this is the end of it. Guess I grossly overestimated Mesa's maturity level.
The first result of this is that Mesa tells Lucas's Aunt about what happened, after which Lucas is forced to dismantle his computer. Who the fuck comes up with this shit?
The second result, as I am told, is that Mesa calls the parents of everyone involved and tells them all about it, making it seem as incriminating as possible. She called my mother on sunday. My mother didn't think it was a big deal. She has called my mother several times today, trying to convince her that my sister is the one at fault here. She has also called my father in fucking Texas, because apparently since my mother's response was unsatisfactory, she had to continue trying to incriminate my sister.
In addition, Corey is no longer allowed to hang out with my sister. This is unsurprising. What is surprising is that Rick is apparently no longer allowed to hang out with my sister, which is odd because I was under the impression that Rick's mom hated Mesa (understandably). I'm now being told that Lucas's Aunt may have had something to do with this, which makes a bit more sense I guess.
So now Mesa has done everything in her power to fuck up my sister's life, even though my sister didn't do anything to her. Mesa instigated this situation, she escalated this situation, and she allowed this situation to come to the point where her daughter was out too late for her liking. She can't take responsibilty for herself and she can't even take care of herself, which is why she doesn't have her kids. That's right, their dad has custody, she just gets them on weekends. And look what she allows to happen when she does have her kids.
All I know is that I'm on the verge of having words with Mesa, it's very hard already to refrain from doing so... and if she pushes this any further, I will. Oh, and I was planning on staying at her apartment after my parents move. That's not going to fucking happen. So either I find someplace else to stay, or I spend that time in Texas with my folks. Lemme know if you have any suggestions, I'm going to try and find my happy place.
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| My Own Design |
[25 May 2005|09:33pm] |
A noble thought
Howard the Duck was
Trapped in a World he Never Made.
Would that my predicament were so
But alas, i did this all on my own
Don't try to take it on yourself
Don't try to make it better
For the fault is my own
And the blame is my own
And the shame is my own
And the only thing
You can do
When i get like this
Is stand in the corner
Stay out of reach
And pray it'll stop
Before I really get out of hand
Because as much as i preach about
Not blaming yourself
About letting your past
Be your past
Mine won't
It lives with me
My shadow
My heart
My soul
All whisper in the silences
A pause after an "I love you"
Becomes a "sort of..."
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| hm, i like this one... not quite as easy to predict as the others are |
[20 May 2005|04:41pm] |
You Are a Visionary Soul |
You are a curious person, always in a state of awareness.
Connected to all things spiritual, you are very connect to your soul.
You are wise and bright: able to reason and be reasonable.
Occasionally, you get quite depressed and have dark feelings.
You have great vision and can be very insightful.
In fact, you are often profound in a way that surprises yourself.
Visionary souls like you can be the best type of friend.
You are intuitive, understanding, sympathetic, and a good healer.
Souls you are most compatible with: Old Soul and Peacemaker Soul
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| And just when things are looking up it all comes crashing down |
[06 May 2005|07:37am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 depressed |
] |
I told you you should stay away...
You didn't listen
They never do
I can deal
he's exaggerating
well i wasn't
and here it is
i was doing great
when i went to work
but one of our guys bailed during the lunchbreak
more stress
just for me
and then this bitch
decides it's a good time
for another personal attack
i calmly told her
all the things i've been trying not to say
about how she keeps doing this
when i'm trying to have a good day
whenever i'm mad
i go out of my way
to avoid the hell out of her
i know she hates it
and identifying the it with the me
hates me
dumb bitch
i'm sad for you
you don't even know why you're mad
but you know enough to dump it on me
so i told her about it
yell at me again
'i look forward to the day
you're finally gone,
i think everyone here
will be happy to see you go'
but you won't be happy
i'm sorry that won't be enough
to fix you.
I laughed her off
and went away
and then the boss came later
to talk about our yelling match
turns out we had words
and i yelled at this woman
which is odd
as i was deliberately and painstakingly calm
throughout
but it just wears down, you know?
it's too much sometimes
for even the strong to handle
without a little help
please
help
i can't swim in my own mind
my own miasma
of guilt and pain i couldn't heal
always too little, too late
little fuckups galore
building up into a tower
tilts and sways above me
ready to topple
and bury me
blessedly
removed of pain and doubt
and i'm sorry
i promised myself i wouldn't
but i've betrayed
myself
more times than i can count
so i'm going back today
this is what they would refer to as
a relapse
if you want to help
don't condemn me
don't console me
just be with me
hold me
be there
cause nobody's here
and i can't hold on
i'm letting go
and i'm sorry if i put all my hope in you
but trusting in myself is something i can
no longer
do
-nina, i swear to god if you post some smarmy shit reminding me that people care, i promise - I PROMISE - that i won't talk to you again. i'm just tired of that, as it does me no good.
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| Kill! Kill! |
[02 May 2005|07:35am] |
You are a Samurai.
You are full of honour and value respect. You
are not really the stereotypical hero, but you
do fight for good. Just in your own way. For
you, it is most certainly okay to kill an evil
person, if it is for justice and peace. You
also don't belive in mourning all the time and
think that once you've hit a bad stage in life
you just have to get up again. It's pointless
to concentrate on emotional pain and better to
just get on with everything. You also are a
down to earth type of person and think before
you act. Impulsive people may annoy you
somewhat.
Main weapon: Sword
Quote: "Always do the right thing.
This will gratify some people and astonish the
rest" -Mark Twain
Facial expression: Small smile
What Type of Killer Are You? [cool pictures]
brought to you by Quizilla
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| Once |
[28 Apr 2005|09:58am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 creative |
] |
There once was a time
When I knew the right words
To make it go away
Make it all okay
I had understanding
Could lean in and whisper
It's ok, just rest
And devon knew best
I made these things happen
Through calm and charisma
As I will it
So shall it be
I could turn your life around
Coax a shy smile from your frown
Give you hope,
Give you life,
Make you remember what love was for...
But something got broken
I can't turn it back now
Let too many go
I just didn't know
Stuff kept getting bigger
Until I was giving
All that I had
You were still sad
I tried to remind you
Of all of the good times
Things were allright
I held you all night
I could turn your life around
Coax a shy smile from your frown
Give you hope,
Give you life,
Make you remember what love was for...
And when at last you
Became too much for me
You tore me apart
To patch up your heart
Since then I've been alone
I forgot how to give
Everything I do
Means avoiding you
I told you that I'm cold
And I'll never love again
That was just a lie
I had to hear you cry
And now at last I realize
Just what I'm waiting for
Someone to be like me
Someone to set me free
She could turn my life around
Coax a shy smile from my frown
Give me hope,
Give me life,
Make me remember what love was for...
I haven't written anything non-rantish in some time, but I think the dam may be breaking... was channeling another's pain while listening to Nick Cave (an unwholesome combination) when this started forming... It's actually in songlike format, which is almost a first for me. Somebody write music for it, willya? Must be minor, possibly a major shift for last verse and final chorus... But make 'em cry, and make 'em wish they felt more deeply...
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[19 Apr 2005|09:33am] |
 | You scored as Visual/Spatial. You probably feel at home with the visual arts, maps, charts, and diagrams. You tend to think in images and pictures. You learn best by looking at pictures and slides, watching videos or movies, and visualizing. People like you include sculptors, painters, surgeons and engineers.
Visual/Spatial | | 96% | Verbal/Linguistic | | 93% | Musical/Rhythmic | | 89% | Interpersonal | | 71% | Intrapersonal | | 71% | Logical/Mathematical | | 61% | Bodily/Kinesthetic | | 54% | </td>
The Rogers Indicator of Multiple Intelligences
created with QuizFarm.com |
visual-spatial is on top, but i already knew that? why do i take quizzes that tell me things i already knew?
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| Wanting and Having, Mindfulness and Psychopathy... |
[18 Apr 2005|09:28pm] |
|
Why is it that whenever you really want to talk to someone they're never there, always rushing off... the only people who call are the others, and as much as you care for them, since they're not the person you wanted to talk to you treat them like crap... I think that the reason that I can't have what I want is that I do not yet know what I want. I have much on my mind, and many considerations that weigh my thoughts, even in regards to those things that I think I want. If I were able to free myself from these complications I could have anything that I wanted, but at what cost? What happens if and when I cast aside all thoughts of repercussions and implications in the name of getting what I want? And what happens when, once I have it, I realize that it's not what I really wanted? Is this a cyclic thing for me? And if so, what does it represent? My own self-destruction? A subconscious desire to bring pain to others in response to or mitigation of my own pain? And what should I do about it? What can I do about it? Either I am eternally careful and nothing ever gets done, or I am without mindfulness and tear through the world... That's what psychopathy is, isn't it? Living however one wants without regards for the repercussions? I guess that's not who I want to be. I'm just not yet aware of how I can have the things that I want within the realm of mindfulness and righteousness. I'm glad we had this talk, but it's plain that I still have a ways to go. In the absence of helpful influences, I continue my self-education and my quest for place and purpose...
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| pic |
[17 Apr 2005|02:52am] |
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New pic, had this weird transition thing in my head with hitler -> chaplin -> viglione... did it but i got too lazy to figure out how to do anything with the backgrounds... whatever, it'll get better later.
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| Alone |
[17 Apr 2005|01:36am] |
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mood |
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I'm tired of this, I'm tired of being alone. I haven't had sex in a year and i haven't been in a relationship for even longer than that. It seems like the only people who would actually want to get involved with me are the ones i'm not attracted to. And it's not that other people aren't attracted to me, it's just that... i don't know what it is. They don't want that from me. And i'm not talking about sex, because that's not the issue. I miss having sex but i don't really care about sex. I miss kissing and love and romance and warmth and flirting and innuendo and everything that leads up to sex, everything that isn't sex. I don't need sex, but apparently i need to love and be loved. I miss that connection, that link, looking at her and feeling fire in my veins and clarity in my head, knowing that I matter. What am I doing wrong? I want to be held.
In my back room there's an old 45
That we played all summer long
Shakin' the beams
So loud it covered up the screams
When lovers' harmony went oh so wrong
And in every word emotion is torn
And blood flows down the drain
Like she opened up a vein
And cut me to the bone
Yeah, she rocks me to the bone...
~The Kinks - To the Bone
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