 view recent entries / profile / friends / archive / rss / Aeonity Blog |
|
view recent entries / profile / friends / archive / rss / Aeonity Blog |
| going to the city |
Jul 2nd, 2008 3:52:01 am - Subscribe |
| When I go to the city Its to purge the smell of eucalypts and wood smoke From my memory and replace it With grit, dirt and something else… I need to remember why I’m not here. When I go to the city, I need to smell The bad breath coming from the trams The stink of rage The apathy that leaks from every pore of The crush around me, I need to smell vicinity. I need to smell urine And shit And booze And stress And overuse And waste And forgetting And losing And wishing And hoping… I need to smell dreams being born And death. When I go to the city, I forget the exhilarating Permanent marker smell Of fast car petrol And late night binging. I need to forget my own smell lingering Amongst the people I brush against When I’m out of my mind. When I enter the city When the city enters me I need to block out its pheromones And not fall in love. |
|
| mood: fragile |
(0) comments |
| other people's kids. |
Jul 1st, 2008 11:20:15 pm - Subscribe |
| thank you for bringing your precious bundle of joy to my house. I should have expected this when I invited you for dinner. Wow. They scream that much. Honey, see we don't want kids any time soon. What? This is good. Thats excellent. Honey we really do not want kids any time soon. Ok, lets have dinner. Where do you put him? I don't know. I don't have anywhere. Ok just on the couch. (mind he doesn't spew on my blue couch... white baby chuck doesn't come out so easily). Smile. Oh aren't you cute. He did a shit that big huh? Ah, thats what the noise is. You want attention. Adult conversation anyone? Yes, he is cute. Yes you are tired. No, not much to say? Ok. You don't want to catch a movie or something? No worries. I understand. You have to get the little angel back to bed (seriously). And I'll see you again soon. Maybe we could go out on the bikes, start looking around for a sitter. Drive safe. See you later. I need a drink. |
|
| mood: torn |
(0) comments |
| Crunchy... |
Jun 15th, 2008 1:42:40 am - Subscribe |
| I'm not okay with no motivation. I can't work in the 'artistic' headspace any more. I need motivation. There is some, I'm sure, stored somewhere in a box clearly marked 'get off your arse' but I seem to have lost the key to that box and I can't get into it. Staring at it isn't getting anything done. AGH... Time to go... to try and not make the same pattern of mistakes. Tron |
|
| mood: dour |
(2) comments |
| I'm as synthetic as my wash cycle. |
Jun 14th, 2008 8:30:36 am - Subscribe |
| I click the dial on the washing machine to synthetics. Its a shorter cycle, save the planet. I feel synthetic myself tonight. I feel thoroughly unmotivated. I see posts on here about new things, and here, at the end of semester, I'm finishing something when other people are starting. Its startlingly incongruous. I'd like to feel like I were headed somewhere. Like I were motivated toward a goal. But I'm not. And surprisingly, despite this empty feeling and a longing to 'get up and go somewhere every day' I'm not too worried by the whole experience. On the whole, I find demotivation the usual place to be when the air turns cold. Something else opens up inside my head and creative wheels start to turn. I'm like a deciduous tree to look at, stark, gaunt, completely still... not doing anything and surrounded by the rotting decay of my own leaves. But inside, I'm not dead. I'm just sleeping, and thinking. I could be like this forever. I could be content with this... if only I could quell that desire to get up and go somewhere every day. I wish there was a vaccination that could prevent this sometimes. I wish there were some kind of 'dilligence' drug that made you want to do things (I think there might be one, I think its called 'speed')... But then again, is it better to be in this natural state of stagnance, to take stock of all that is not happening? I have no answers. |
|
| mood: undecided |
(0) comments |
| walking out is harder to do than you think. |
Jun 12th, 2008 12:16:23 pm - Subscribe |
| Why is it that a person can feel completely fine until they walk into a therapist's office. I challenge you to find me someone who won't consider themselves a little mad after subjection to the intensity associated with the medicinal confessional that is my therapists offices... Today I felt fine, balanced. Unmotivated, definitely but still, fine enough in my life. But step into that office, and I am again disintegrated into the ball of raw sinew and fuckery that I have come to associate with these sessions. I left early. I hated myself for the lack of commitment. I am successfully conditioned to deteriorate in small rooms with high ceilings and yellow walls... my god-- the walls in my house are ALL YELLOW... (not my choice). So here I am feeling totally shit about the whole experience, and assured by the many voices of judgement within me that not one soul will give a shit. Good on you if you do. Its a wonderful place inside my head. I think I'll go to sleep. night world. Tron |
|
| mood: neurotic |
(1) comments |
| turning the car around and going HOME! |
Jun 2nd, 2008 9:40:00 am - Subscribe |
| I am free. Free in my own mind. Whirling, swirling, twirling in happiness. Light as air, too far from the ground with relief. Soon, all this shall be over. I am returning to my first love: The english language. I don't mean to discriminate and exclude the many other beautiful languages out there, this is, simply, the only language that I have... I am returning HOME, to myself. I am changing paths, a little, again to become more myself. My life is a stone and I am carving myself out of it pebble by pebble. I am closer to my dream. I have accepted fate. I like it. I love it... I have gained all I need here, and am ready to move on. I made this decision today, and it made the world make sense. I am becoming again, what I always was deep down. THANK FUCK! Perhaps, just maybe, (the bald man had no hair), this therapy caper is working. I can see the self satisfaction seeping out of my therapist when I make progress, but I refuse to get into that... not now. I can't corrode this. |
|
| mood: Happy |
(0) comments |
| all hail the shiny |
May 31st, 2008 12:02:42 pm - Subscribe |
| When did dressing like a slut get glamorous? There's a few questions on my mind that I'd like the general public, or society as a whole to answer for me. This is the first of them. If you put on something skimpy from an op-shop or something that's hand me down no matter how good condition its in, you're trashy. If you buy the same kind of thing new, and cover it in diamonties than your classy? Well maybe its not that simple. You do have to slick your hair down and make sure you're clean, and there's a certain implied elegance in 'class' but essentially, you're either all hanging out there, or 'creating the illusion' of all hanging out there, and realistically isn't that one of the trashiest things you can do? Firstly, that last sentence was far too long. Secondly, its wrong to judge, out loud. People don't like to feel like they're being judged, but we all do it. We rely on the external appearances of others to make those split second judgements about how much value they might be to us. We are, after all, social capitalists. We all are, regardless of your economic viewpoint. But this is beyond my original point. My point was about class, and the seeming lack of it when all your body parts are on display. I sometimes think that animals have it much easier when it comes to appearance, but whatever, that's another post. So back to class. I guess its all about the presentation of a message. See, to me, looking beautiful without the perfect body, without the mint of money, that's something. Its easy to 'scrub up nice' if you never get dirty. For me, I like those hard won battles. And I don't like diamonties. There's something a little bit trivial about overtly worshipping those 'shiny things'. I guess what I'm trying to say amongst this very tired prattle, is that its the messages that are hard won that count. Its the person who took the effort to say what they wanted without compromising that impresses me. Anything can live up to this high ideal of mine: art, music, dance, drama, literature, conversation... taking the time to get the message out there without using cheap tricks will always seem more classy, elegant, sophisticated to me than all the diamonties, or even diamonds real or metaphorical you can dish up... Tron |
|
| mood: spectacular |
(0) comments |
| break my heart again, for old times sake. |
May 22nd, 2008 11:17:44 am - Subscribe |
| Every time I sit down to write something here I come up against a wall. It is made of reasons not to write, reasons to just walk away from this... the foundation is a loyalty to paper, and a fear of readers. Its a judgement avoidance. It is cemented to the next layer by a conviction that I have nothing to say. The next layer is the certainty that the whole exercise is futile... wasteful of so many things... time, energy, thoughts, little pieces of myself so optimistically cast into the world and lost in the swamp of other people's needs... need to be recognised, need to be loved. the wall builds itself up higher and higher with layers of failed attempts... and is decorated by my own self scorn and my distaste for the process. The wall protects me from you all... and traps me within myself. there is so much to say. and no reason at all to say it to anyone. I am utterly convinced that no one is listening. I am utterly convinced that the exercise of opening up to others does little more than push them away further from me in the times when I need them the most. I am tired of listening. I am tired of not listening. I am afraid of not hearing I am terrified of not being heard. There came a point when, without the structured inescapable environments to pressured people closer and closer through their shared captivity, I realised that I had lost the capacity to connect in meaningful ways to those around me. I am ready again to trust someone, completely, but how do I find that someone? How do I reach out and find someone who would not see me as a burden? I need that person with the right mix of empathy and understanding, interest and forgiveness, similar experiences, and self resolve... the right person... someone to be very close to and share with. I am ready for a new friendship. I am ready to nourish and be nourished... but I am behind so many walls. How do you reach out to people? This seems like a first step. |
|
| mood: wonderful |
(2) comments |
| change of scene |
Apr 17th, 2008 10:35:40 am - Subscribe |
| paper is working well for me. begun therapy. don't worry if you don't hear too much, i'm just very busy, very tired, and paper works better. tron |
|
| mood: chaotic |
(1) comments |
| whine whine whine |
Apr 12th, 2008 7:53:36 am - Subscribe |
| So I've had a pretty shit run of late. There's been some huge fucking nightmare at the school I was working at for practicum (first prac out mind you) where I was handed from teacher to teacher and in the end without following proper procedure they tried to fail me. The school... well I'm just not happy. Yet we live and we learn. I had such a miserable time this prac that I can't imagine myself doing this job anymore. Everyone around me is either sick of hearing me whine or they think that its better for me not to talk about it. Either way I feel like arse. It strikes me that my entire personality might be wrong for this profession. Its not the teaching kids I can't handle, its the colleagues. I'm sure there are nicer teachers out there, but really, if there are more like this, I certainly don't want to run into them. To compound things, my holiday to Melbourne is off. Kaput. And this is final. There was no way *** could get the time off work, so we can't go. And frankly, we really need some time to ourselves asap. We've barely seen each other for two weeks or more. Our schedules keep us apart. I know I'm pretty much a wreck, and I'm sure he's pretty rooted too when it comes to mental fatigue. Time away just the two of us would be really nice. So apparently, there will be another holiday in a couple of months. And right now I just see that as another opportunity for disappointment. I'm feeling pretty negative. So at the moment, I've got to finish assignments, while living in limbo because someone decided I'm not good enough. I refuse to accept that. I cannot concede that I was so terrible that I might deserve to fail!!! I'm just fucking sick of everything at the moment. No Holiday, no certainty about my degree. I feel like I may as well pack it all in now. I can't see my personality changing and I'm not a people person. I'm not mentally drawn/ interest drawn to the jobs/professions that allow you to work without other people around me. I just want to go and do something else, and soon. Fuck it all. Tron |
|
| mood: salty |
(0) comments |
| my kingdom for a font! |
Apr 2nd, 2008 11:40:13 am - Subscribe |
| So its getting ever closer to the time when my eyelids will win the battle with coffee and demand some down time. It’s the end of another long day. Its seriously full on. Prac that is. For those not familiar with the routine, I’m training/studying to be a teacher so I get plopped onto someone else’s class, right at the end of the school term, to watch and teach lessons which have no continuity within the teaching and learning of the students. I get to watch with amazed horror the difference between classroom practice and all the theories they bang on about in the hallowed halls of the university. I spend some time learning the few things that it will take the uni two or more years to integrate into my life (or so they think) and then I walk away disappointed that my taxes will pay people in the future to do more of this shitty teaching. I’m up to my fucking ears in a world of “do as we say not as we do” and “don’t do that, do what I do!” and “don’t do what he does, he’s a moron” politics and policies that don’t really get implemented and a supervising teacher that doesn’t really know much more about what’s going on than I do. Or, rather, knows exactly what’s going on and prepares much the same way I do. Its my main rant for the moment. Life cruises on in my happy, control freak environment. I take charge and things get done. I believe in the power of myself to do things and hang everyone else. No that’s a lie. I’m not that jaded yet. You might say I’m exhibiting some kind of zen balance, despite the long LONG days and the hours of prep and resource work. I can’t wait to sleep in on the weekend. So help the sparrow that farts before I wake up. So life cruises, and posts are few and far between. Reflection. Reflection is the key to improvement. I can see that the eyelids are starting to get the brain onside in the aforementioned battle… fuck. Well it might be a good place to stop. A foundation script free font, I’d give my kingdom for it. That and some realism in uni. G’night all. Tron |
|
| mood: drowsy something in the real to share: today was better than yesterday which was better than the day before. |
(0) comments |
| late night ramblings. |
Mar 2nd, 2008 12:21:40 pm - Subscribe |
| Several times I've thought I had something important, relevant, cross contextually mesmerising to say. Only, then I make the mistake of becoming so distracted I forget what it is that the world so desperately needs to hear and so conclude that it wasn't very important to begin with. But now I'm so overwhelmingly full of words that some must dribble over the lip of my brain through my fingers via running nerve impulses and land inevitably here in this great opus of mine. An opus, admittedly, of long sentences. But to hell with efficient word use tonight. The pressure in my head is already starting to dim and fade. I'm becoming aware of a coldness on my face where my breath hits my top lip after exiting my nose. Suddenly there's more around me than the imperative to spill. Is it the slow steady rush of my breath? Is it an inescapable fatigue in my body that is bringing the mental rush to its night time hiatus? It is certainly going to be a combination of these things. But I can't sleep yet. There is more to be done! There is more tidying, and more preparing, more reading. I have not been nearly as efficient and productive over the last few days as I would like, and I'm not going to let this ethic slide. And this resolve is despite the little niggles that creep into my brain telling me that the task at hand is too big. Quit now, save yourself some disappointment. Save yourself wasted effort. Isn't that after all the most efficient choice you can make. I can't wait for therapy to start I need therapy to start Is there time for therapy in my schedule? What if they have forgotten me? What if they haven't forgotten me... Am I really better enough to go it alone? This isn't the time for these kind of questions of self. Its just a late night tired rambling to get the monkeys off my back... I adore Tom Waits. I need a cigarette more than i need both legs... "I like my town with a little drop of poison" me too tom, me too. |
|
| mood: disappointed with myself, but stubborn. |
(1) comments |
| misanthropy 1o1 |
Feb 10th, 2008 4:31:25 am - Subscribe |
| Everyone is fake. Or disappointing. Or both. Yesterday I realised that my friends are useless. But they like to think that they are better than they are. I'm not sure what to do. You know how friends say that no matter what, when you need them they'll be there? Well when that moment turns up and they don't come... even if you don't want them, but they should be there... when that moment comes... My moment happened last year. And no one turned up. And until now, I didn't care. I'm tired. Tired of even giving one shit about people. I've got a torch, and I'm taking long hard look at some bridges. My friends like to think they are potential heroes. They like to think that they are good friends. But they aren't. They make their own lives busy, messy places. Some have genuine reasons... but others don't. Or at least, some have reasons that I can see working for them in their own minds to justify themselves. Am I reading more into people than there is to see? Am I foolish for thinking that they can be more than what they are. Surely one ounce of intelligence and a little fucking sense will prevail. I'm fucking furious. I'm hurt. I feel stupid for not realising this sooner. Not all people are wastes of time. Not all people value form over function in every aspect of their lives. OK. Rant over. There is fucking hope. And really... it is the ultimate stupidity to let someone so stupid, shallow, artificial and deluded colour my whole existence. I'll just have to be a lot more cynical and put the loyalty of 10 years of shit with other people behind me. Time does not excuse. |
|
| mood: explosive |
(5) comments |
| i may know the word... |
Feb 4th, 2008 11:24:26 am - Subscribe |
| Today I read an old letter from a lot of years ago, just for me from someone who used to be very important to me. I can't throw it away just like I can't throw the old pictures away. Not yet. Maybe because there is something that I need to remember that's hidden in them. There is an uncompromising beauty in the letter. There is a hard, undeniable truth unveiled and expressed with care and warmth. I miss that. This is truly something that I have given up in favour of other things. Something that I thought I could live without, but now I wonder. I realised something about myself tonight. Something that I had forgotten. Something about who I am and what I really value in a relationship. Some kind of honesty and integrity and intelligence that goes beyond daily living. Somehow before things were more about the ephemeral beauty of sharing life together. Maybe that's why I was so angry before. Knowing that I had lost my chance to share that with anyone, because he had been so beautifully moulded to my needs. But can you ever truly mould someone to your needs and is it ridiculous to expect everything to be on the table. As I grow older I realise that there is more to be appreciated in the adult world in the things that go unspoken. The bonds that are shared in a single hand held moment. The love exchanged in a brief moment. But. There is always a but. Is there anyone out there who would truly love to be in a space of complete openness with someone? Is there anyone out there that begs to be explored like that... who wants that physical, mental undying connection... who desires above all else the truth and the openness and the articulation of love, passion and expression?? Or was that one moment of love's enlightenment, shut off now to me forever... Or am I just blind to the feeling because I'm so incapable with my own feelings now.? Song for the moment: Natalie Merchant: I may know the wold from "Tigerlily" But not say it I may know the truth But not face it I may hear a sound A whisper sacred and profound But turn my head Indifferent I may know the word But not say it I may love the fruit But not taste it I may know the way To comfort and to soothe A worried face But fold my hands Indifferent If i'm on my knees I'm begging now If i'm on my knees Groping in the dark I'd be paying for deliverance From the night into day But it's all grey here It's all grey to me I may know the word But not say it This may be the time But i might waste it This may be the hour Something move me Someone prove me wrong Before the night comes With indifference If i'm on my knees I'm begging now If i'm on my knees Groping in the dark I'd be praying for deliverance From the night into the day But it's all grey here But it's all grey to me I recognize the walls inside me I recognize them all I've paced between them Chasing demons down Until they fall In fitful sleep Enough to keep their strength Enough to crawl Into my head With tangled threads They riddle me to solve Again and again and again fuck what I would not give for a cigarette right now... for something to still myself... to make this fade... to slow and pacify within myself. |
|
| mood: stormy |
(0) comments |
| a place for everything... and everything in its place. |
Jan 31st, 2008 11:29:35 am - Subscribe |
| it becomes more and more apparent to me that I'm not the person that I once was. A hard thing to reconcile in a town where you've been busy growing up, where the shadows of years or months ago follow you around. So much has happened in the last 12 months. And although I am happy about the new found stability, I do think that there are things about my new life which leave a hole in myself. Such is the nature of compromise. I hope that more than anything else I am able to remember the yearning that exists within myself and never forget to be tolerant. Life becomes more and more about control. Control of self, control of life, control of everything else. Life becomes more and more about stability and mental asceticism. Learning to control things, and release them at exquisite moments of truth, learning the true value of things through their denial, and squashing my square shaped self into the circle of normal. Taking off the edges. Without medication, without fear, without anything. The freedom of not being needed, of not needing anything... is indescribable. It is simultaneously terrifying and elating. The freedom to grow is scary... who will I become, and ill I ever stop? I'm not sleeping with the past any more. Somehow this abstinence makes life better too. Appreciation for taming the wild beast. I don't feel as though I'm pushing at the edges any more. I feel like I'm nicely contained. Compartmentalised. A place for everything and everything in its place. Put me in the box. I've got nothing to prove. I know that at the end of the day, I'm not what you think I am. And as long as I remember that I can stand for you to think that I'm whatever you need or want me to be. |
|
| mood: smooth |
(1) comments |
| some recent observations |
Jan 24th, 2008 8:44:00 am - Subscribe |
| its pretty easy, i think, to approach a 'new baby' with the same kind of excessive fervour reserved for stationary-philes on the first day back at school. I remember feeling like i had to have everything all ready for the first day... success depended on it... but realistically, I didn't even need that calculator till the next year, I wasn't going to really use all of those pencils... and how many pens does a person need anyway. On top of this is the convenience of knowing that there will always be a tomorrow and what I didn't have, I could usually do without and what I needed I could always get. I suppose some people might feel like they need the whole circus before the baby is born, but really, how much do you think that little blob is going to use in the first couple of months anyway? Why spend all that time and money collecting things that you might not need at the end of the day anyway. It seem silly to me. Can't you wait? Perhaps its part of the newness of it all... perhaps its a reassuring 'feeling prepared'... maybe you're never really prepared for everything. And perhaps at the end of the day, some people might compensate for their age and lack of experience with 'things'. I don't know. Its just a really recent thing that has come to my attention... and now its come to yours. |
|
| mood: tenacious |
(1) comments |
| i want a divorce |
Jan 18th, 2008 2:26:15 pm - Subscribe |
| ... from my family. I realised tonight, that despite numerous second chances and plenty of patience from me, there's not a whole lot in my 24 years that can redeem most of my family. And the family members I do value, I've been really neglectful of. I feel like total arse. |
|
| mood: regretful |
(2) comments |
| arsehole 1010 |
Jan 17th, 2008 12:57:06 pm - Subscribe |
| I'm starting to really get the idea that I'm pushing proverbial shit up a very large proverbial hill. And while I'm trying not to get my bitch on, repeated bullshit like this will result in conflict... mark my words. While I'm trying not to play the bitter bitch, and somehow see through all this to some kind of goodness in you, rather than just seeing the same transparent plays I used to get from her. The irony could be your favourite food... so fucking delicious... you're never going to be you are you? You're just going to be some twisted mirror of the latest fuck you've managed to charm with your strange combination of intelligence and clueless... Well I'm not going to be treated like last weeks cum rag. Not by you. So either man up and fucking deal with shit the way it is, accept the olive branch, stop being a drama queen and make something real of what is here in front of you, or slink away with your apologies and publicly fucking make a statement that you're the fucking arsehole you look like being right now. |
|
| mood: mad something in the real to share: 'better version of me' fiona apple |
(0) comments |
| shaddows. |
Jan 7th, 2008 12:08:32 am - Subscribe |
| i wonder if its possible that through the miracle of the internet and some kind of freaky fucking fluctuation in space and time, our younger selves are here blogging along side us. I know i read them sometimes... and its not nearly as disturbing as you think. I think when something stops making you feel uncomfortable then you know you've gotten past it permanently. |
|
| mood: sketchy |
(1) comments |
| untangling |
Jan 5th, 2008 12:14:26 pm - Subscribe |
| Hey blog world. This is a random rantage... so use your seatbelt... and remember that if its not on, its not on. I'm floundering again. Rising out of the mire with my grand life plan, scrawled out on a piece of paper thats been made to look old with coffee and burnt around the edges for effect. Relics are priceless... only its not real. its not a relic. Its a fake. And I'm losing confidence. What is buried at the X? What the hell is that spot marking? Is it really a treasure? Domestic bliss my arsehole. I've got a revelation for you blog world, I am NOT a domestic goddess. There I said it. I'm more sylvia plath than martha stewart. I found an old picture of me today... 15 kg lighter. Somehow, I feel like I was better off before. Sometimes I want to just sit down with her and have her hear me... You've got a man who saw me go through an eating disorder and said nothing. Who watched as I fell apart and instead of helping pick up the pieces ran away with you. Do you really think that he won't do that again? There's something about seeing into the blackness of other people's souls... you never really shut that door again... and you might know how light he can be... but I remember the black. That never dies. But that was only sparked by the picture. Actually I looked extraordinary! I looked great. I wasn't mundane. I was free. Now I'm trapped by fat. I'm going to get the hell out of this cage if it kills me! I spoke with mine about kids a couple of times lately. I waiver between wanting them... soon... and wanting them never. I don't know. Until promises are really made, I'll never feel secure. I don't place enough stock even then to feel 100% safe... never... Am I writing in riddles? And half formed sentences... What I'd give to have you back from europe... I wish I'd been single when we met. Not so that we could hook up... god that would have been a mistake, but that I could have spent more time with you and gotten to know you better without fear of retribution and shame... without the stigma of deceit. I wish that i felt like there was someone out there who was listening to the story and actually cared. As I get older I realise that we're all simultaneous narratives, and very rarely do we actually care what other people around us are saying, its just luck and good fortune when we find someone who's story we actually want to read. Its exceptional luck when they want to listen back... God... I need people who will listen, who will know, who will care... I need a group again. I need stupid sit coms NOT to have lied to me and there to be some kind of real bond between women and men beyond sex... somewhere to be free... Maybe my older brother is awake... |
|
| mood: withdrawn |
(2) comments |
| numbers and monogamy |
Dec 13th, 2007 12:51:47 pm - Subscribe |
| I've been thinking a lot about two things. The first is pretty common enough a thought. Its about people. The second, if you humour me, is rather random and its about numbers. In regards to people it seems as though two people are not meant to spend their whole lives together, and that monogamy goes against the human success story. Hear me out. Most people get to a stage in their lives where familiarity has bread contempt. And this is another matter in unto itself. But in a human life span, who that person is, what they like and especially what they need are fluid concepts. So, its quite possible that the younger you find someone the more likely you are that you will break up. That is unless of course, you grow and change together. This is very unlikely. If we consider our life span, the things we like change. Are you the same person you were when you didn't like the things you like now? What defines you? And is the biggest killer to a relationship a lack of change. Because if we take this premise and accept that we are morphing all the time into something that we are not now and we accept that any person we think we are going to spend the rest of our lives with will also be morphing at the same time, then how likely is it that we are going to follow the same path? And in a strictly evolutionary sense, what is the benefit of monogamy? What benefit do males of the species have from staying with one female (or male). Presumably if they can impregnate us then their job is done and they should go off and shag something or someone else. Realistically, women really in a truly hunt and gather sense need protection mostly from other men (and this is quite possibly the success of patriarchy). I may have lost the plot, so with that admission, lets think about numbers... Its amazing that we can use one small simple symbol, say a 6 to represent a word. I'm sure that the ancient people who used hieroglyphs had the same sense of pride in their written word. But think about it, Si'ix that's how we say it, we draw out the I and then we have a word, represented by one little un-decodable symbol. Its amazing. I was struck by this while watching utter crap on the television. Sadly I really want to go to bed, it is late, 11:50pm. My other half still isn't home from work. Don't worry, i'm not as cynical about him. He's older than me by 8 years, and so finding each other is not so close to the beginnings of a life. There is less changing to be had. And we seem to change together... but as for familiarity breeding contempt? I'll get back to you on that one. Take care all. Tron |
|
| mood: indescribable |
(2) comments |
| upswing |
Dec 11th, 2007 7:42:50 am - Subscribe |
| There's nothing like some premenstrual energy to get you going and cleaning your house... that and realising that your melancholy is partly to do with the stale attitudes of someone else and your reaction to them... and when actions are taken to deal with the problem, then life continues sweetly. |
|
| mood: well |
(1) comments |
| necrosis of the mind... |
Dec 9th, 2007 1:05:18 pm - Subscribe |
| Today was not a good day... its safe to say that things are either wonderful or horrible if you don't hear from me, not that there are many ears to hear now. I had no energy. I had no motivation. Today was the kind of day when I felt like the scum between humanity's toes... or rather, that nasty useless shit underneath that manky big toe nail. One of these days I'll go to sleep and won't wake up... because I live the fuking fairy tale... and I'm still not happy. |
|
| mood: shattered |
(4) comments |
| the bee hive |
Dec 4th, 2007 12:02:07 pm - Subscribe |
| I tired to sit down and do some maths work today but stupidly had listened to eagles of death metal and found my brain buzzing with potential thoughts. I could not silence the whirr. The music and the excitement and the imagination set off a chain of events that noone could stop. And I started to wonder again. I was uncomfortable, at first, with what had been a rather plesant experience in the past… and wondered if this were the start of another upswing, but then images and metaphors and just plain imaginings started building and I found it a far better thing to dream and wonder than to risk dwelling in the hum drum world of reality for too long. I started to wonder if you could teach a man to dance by shooting at his feet. Perhaps there would be something beautiful emerging there if you indulged and practiced the art for long enough. And this is how I came to wondering about you. Perhaps I wondered about you first and this was the result of those imaginings too. But either way this was the final destination of my thoughts. Because I started to imagine how you would react to finding me in this rather excited state. I thought of course that you would be absolutely appauled, and that despite my best intentions to keep it a secret from you that you would immeadiately know that I was buzzing along and you would revile from me as you usually do when I am in these moods after a short obligatory period of course, where you try to settle me down. You are afterall a good man. And I wondered what things used to be like before we became so married to each other. And in that way I consider us married as in tied. Both unable to escape like two entwining vineries of a pea plant or a bean, which grasps and clings to grow and then ultimately succumbs to a much larger plant. So I wondered Would you be inspired by the way that I could talk to you now. Would I be interested in your replies and would it be a good thing for you to get out of your clumsy reality and take a tour of the world without your logic. I have taken to escaping in movies, and left books for dead. They feel like too much work and I imagine people that don’t read very well would say the same thing… But I have not taken to leaving my musings behind… I’m sure I just momentarily forgot how. This is a return to madness. |
|
| mood: open, flowing, outreaching, musing, switched on |
(0) comments |
| a post a post |
Nov 25th, 2007 12:23:01 pm - Subscribe |
| Lately I have been in a slump and I'm wondering about myself and the laziness I've succumbed to. I've tried to look for the source of this demotivation deciding that I do not enjoy the way I spend time and looking as though I am slowly but surely succumbing to a fat suit, poor health, worse hygiene (ok so its not quite that bad)... Is there something about me? Is it something I can change. I'm going under. I'm failing but is it a mental health issue or is it laziness. I don't defiantly sit here not doing anything, but if you ask me how I spent my day I'll tell you honestly that I didn't do anything, that is if you're the right person. I'm ashamed to live like this. I'm disgusted with myself and what I am becoming. I know that attributional belief and a series of coping mechanisms might get me out of this, when I stop and think I know this... I've just become limp. I don't even have my own sense of twistedness anymore. I don't even have the scik way of looking at the world that made me feel like something more than a clone. I dont' leave the house during the day. I've gotten weird. I don't know what to do with myself. *big fat stupid sigh* tron |
|
| mood: troubled |
(0) comments |
| holidays could not come fast enough |
Nov 1st, 2007 1:29:02 am - Subscribe |
| A clean house is good for the soul and when procrastinating a clean house clears the mind too. Its crunch time for my uni work. I have a lot to do today. I'll let you know how it goes. I'm feeling more positive lately. I'm trying to get my moods upbeat and get my life under control. I had a couple of days with my other half to adjust, refuel, talk, just reconnect. We made good progress. I'm allowed to dream a little of the things that we have for the future. I'm hoping that there will be more opportunities to express myself and my individualities over the holidays which are so close I can smell them. My god am I looking forward to holidays. *sigh* |
|
| mood: bright |
(0) comments |
| all aboard the sunken ship |
Oct 31st, 2007 1:57:19 am - Subscribe |
| There's a file in my email with a past history of you. There's a file in my mind too. I can't erase you so quickly, but you are determined to go-- driven by me, by my anger and mostly by my disappointment in you. You claim to have atoned for your sins, but all I asked was decency and honesty. You couldn't give it. Now you run run run as fast as you can, looking down or not at all on those you have left behind. Well, you have found your clique. Your niche. I never was good enough for you... It is just such a shame that you couldn't say the words that made you into an honest man, that you couldn't own up to all parties concerned and tell the truth. I suppose it would have validated her too, to know that your love was strong enough to tear me apart. I try not to think about you, but there is always the threat of running into you- will there be time to cross the street? Will you acknowledge me? What will come of this? Could we start again with a friendship? Friendship is such an interesting word... friend ship= a ride. Something you embark on. I took ours for granted, and sometimes I'm very sorry. But sometimes I'm not because you took me for granted-- expected that after what you did I'd hang around and watch the outcome... that it would be easy. I would have liked to be the better person, but the sheer gravity of your betrayal and subsequent lie killed all that we had built together. And it still hurts. |
|
| mood: impatient |
(0) comments |
| today and every other day |
Oct 29th, 2007 8:06:38 am - Subscribe |
| Every day I wake up and look for the tell tale signs that this is what I should be doing. Some days you are the source of all hope, and others you are a dream crushing nightmare. I wait and see if your affection will be enough to sustain me... afraid of my own needs and desires. I hold my breath, to see which request will be the next insult, the next unthinkable deed... Every day I hope that suddenly you will understand and appreciate me, my language, everything on a deeper level... every day you don't... Every day I stay. Because I won't be that person for no good reason. Because I won't make your life hell for nothing. Because I'm not sure, and for now this will do, because I won't give you up and wake up the next day feeling like the whole thing was a mistake. I think I hate my life... and I don't think that leaving you will make it any better. So maybe you're not so bad. Every once in a while, you plant a kiss on my neck and it feels like heaven for a moment. I never expect it, its just given, and I remember. Every once in a while... Can I live on these whiles? Why can't I stop thinking about this and live in the moment... Fuck this all |
|
| mood: dry |
(0) comments |
| Dreams and Labels |
Oct 26th, 2007 9:56:44 am - Subscribe |
| Houston... we have a label... (And I'm not telling...) So they argue against labelling patients because it gives them an umbrella to hide under... and to a certain extent that is true... but for me apart from being an umbrella, they've given it a face. Something to fight against. Relatively reasonable ideas about how long it should take to get things done and some seriously reliable research about what works, and its all there available for my inspection and approval. The beast has a name. I know what I'm fighting. So there's hope right now. There are therapists, appointments, knowing looks and waiting rooms. There are group meetings and individual sessions. There is this online journal and another one hidden in the bottom draw of my bedside table. There's understanding and there's a future. And there's acceptance, and there's an eagerness to shake it off. There's tiredness. And there's hopelessness and deathly dreaming in their turn. There's no forgiveness. And there can't be. I've given up hope there. Fuck you. Fuck you hard. You are now the noisiest unhappiest place in my mind. You are now the black. You are now the fucking hatred. You asked for it in no less specific terms. There is corn and snow peas and strawberries, and a little grey cat, and a big brown and white one, a bird that rules the roost and a long suffering, but not leaving one... How did I come to be here. there is positivity here. There is happiness in potentia... now all I have to do is be happy... there's no place like home there's no place like home... I dreamt a dream thisafternoon. I was in the crushing hold of sleep Who wrapped his hand around my consciousness and squeezed some madness from my imagination. He tricked me into believing that I was awake Only to tell me later with a snigger that I was still asleep And still asleep And still asleep And his captive for as long as he wanted. Until the phone rang. Is that how a coma feels? Is that how it death feels? Do you see yourself getting things done only to realise that they're gone again in an instant meaningless and nothingness? Just thoughts. |
|
| mood: emotionless something in the real to share: I have not been this tired in a long time |
(0) comments |
| old stories and universal truths... |
Oct 21st, 2007 1:59:17 am - Subscribe |
| What is it that opposite sex relationships crave from each other, and can they ever hope to satisfy the craving? Why are women conditioned to expect knights in shining armour who at a closer glance prove to be nothing more than tin can foot soldiers? Why do most men believe they're Arthur or Merlin, and turn out to be Lancelot instead? Why can't they admit that they don't really go for Excalibur, and all the chivalrous things they claim to stand for. Why did Achilles have to fall in love? And why did men give a shit about Helen of troy. Why do women have affairs? If one man cannot satisfy them, what makes them think any other can? A man said to me that his wife married the perfect man, because all men are perfect, does that mean that none is better than the other? I am torn between men. One man haunts my dreams because he thinks he's Arthur and is actually Lancelot and won't admit it and therefore give me the peace i so desperately crave. the other man is grooming me to be a perfect reproductive unit so that we can play house. There is admittedly part of me that enjoys this... but a darker looming threat that cannot accept my place as receptacle and gestational vessel. There is a man who once appeared to be the knight, but on closer inspection, he seemed so black... but maybe that is all to do with perception, and I may have been the dragon not the princess to him. When/if i learn to feel perhaps I will be sorry... perhaps I already am... another man, a man I don't even dare to think about or speak about has become the material of fantasy... one last hope that if I don't get too close, that if I look at him out of the corner of my eye I can believe in knights in shining armour all over again. One last effort to believe in the fairy tale... to allow myself to hope. I hope I never get to close to such and one... I hope I never find anyone who looks like the perfect partner again. Relationships are hard fucking work... its all about compromise and settling... the very things that draw you to a person will ultimately be the things that push you away... |
|
| mood: misanthropic |
(2) comments |
| no title |
Oct 16th, 2007 11:30:27 pm - Subscribe |
| I'm still repulsed by myself. I've managed to gain a stone in weight since i stopped the meds, and overall two and a half stone since I quit smoking. I told my partner yesterday that I feel like I'm wearing a fat suit. The worst part about it is that by floundering like this, stagnating, dying a day at a time... indecisive and unhappy, they've won. Every fucker I've ever been paranoid about has won. Every fucker who's hurt me, including myself, seems to be winning the battle to destroy myself. I hate my university degree. I hate my life. I despise myself. And I know saying that I hate my life really calls into attention problems I must be having with my interpersonal relationships, but maybe there is a problem there. Maybe I need to just go stay with friends for a couple of days. I'm feeling low, feeling shit... feeling drained and unhappy. Lying when I can muster the energy. All the time in the back of my head is "whats the friggen point". My partner is sick of bashing his head against a brick wall with me and so he's given up trying to fight with me for uni and he's backing right off. I've missed a class this morning. I should have stayed at home. I got here with an hour of the two hour tutorial left and couldn't suck it up enough to show my face in the room. I'm paranoid. its crippling. And you know what the worst thing about all of this is? The worst thing is that this is what people deal with every day. Every fucking day the 'normal' people get themselves to class on time, deal with the people around them, get education, get jobs, manage their weight. I can't seem to give enough of a shit about any of these things to get myself organised. I know that freedom lies just around the corner for me. All I have to do is finish the semester... but I'm so tired of waiting. I'm so unhappy with everything that I need some breath of fresh air now... but life isn't like that. I want to get a decent therapist. Someone to talk to once a week. But I've been so fucking screwed over by the MH services that therapy has become a complicated issye about time and travelling and of course, money. I need to see someone. I need structure, help, coffee... I wish just once someone would make me a coffee that was 'just right' and not too fucking hot to drink. I don't want to scald myself. Maybe I should stipulate that next time. Less whinging. More working. |
|
| mood: repulsed |
(0) comments |
| another day another million |
Oct 9th, 2007 11:25:24 pm - Subscribe |
| And the jury has returned with their verdict: yesterday sucked. I'm so disappointed with myself. Its because there's a deep dark cruel part of me which has been unwillingly dredged up lately and I hate seeing it get used. I'm tired of trying to bury hatchets in other people's heads so I'm going to put them deep deep deep in the ground for now. There are people that I know that bring out the worst in me. These people know who they are and they know that I'm angry with them. Anger is such a frustrating emotion for me. I've never been able to veil contempt. Perhaps I've enjoyed letting it out too much. I've become a poisonous viper, and now I'm threatening to bite my own tail. My head is a mess, and words have been exchanged that can't be taken back. They ring in my ears and bring tears to the back of my eyes, but I refuse to believe that I'm what you, what you both insist I am... There's a deep discontent in me. A deep irreconcilable void between the people that I love dearly and those that I can't love, who stand with those I'm ambivalent to. I'm so full of rage. I'm so full of rage. I'm not making sense. Medowie is the same as it was before, but the talk we had about not being so aggressive when talking to me seems to have stuck and despite yesterday's isolation, things have been resolved. How can one person make me feel like I'm even getting better when the other one makes me feel like a monster? Maybe I am a monster, and if I am what does it matter? Slowly the blocks fall into place then spin away again because you're re writing history and I'm not allowed to take my red pen to your sanctimonious new tale. Slowly the blocks are whizzing closer and closer to my face as you redefine the chase and tell me how I felt and made you feel and how your version is the real deal, but mine, mine is a forgery. Slowly the blocks are making contact and they sting and they burn with cold fire and they hurt deep inside where only memories should live. Slowly the information falls into place that you and I have been hurling the blocks... |
|
| mood: grouchy |
(1) comments |
| I need to breathe. |
Oct 9th, 2007 5:39:15 am - Subscribe |
| Been back one day and the negative spiral starts again. At the smallest and slightest chance, he's into me. I feel like he's putting me down, waiting for me to fuck up. I hate living here. I hate this house, I hate the way it makes me feel. And I hate the way he can't see his own selfishness. Been back one day and i'm crying my eyes out again feeling like noone on the fucking face of the planet gives a shit or can understand. When we were away, everything was all smiley and rosey. But now we're back and straight away all he's doing is focusing on the things I'm getting wrong. Its like he can't wait for me to fail. He pushes and pushes me. He doesn't attempt to understand what it must be like for me to face yet another mental health team in a different fucking city based on my post code. Based on the post code that he chose and I have to assimilate with. I don't like medowie. I don't like being dictated to either. Just do this, just do that. Don't do this! You're not allowed to do that. I can be humble. I can eat all the fucking humble pie you want, but not unless your voice is soft and your looks are kind. I'm just too tired of that hard look in your eyes and if you don't get rid of it, we've got big fucking problems. I want the us that we had when we were away back. I want the couple that went for walks together. Not the arsehole that yells at me for checking emails. I can't live with someone who's always looking for me to fail. Who takes that negative tone with me when he feels like it. Perhaps we both need a little space from each other, so I'm going to organise to go away for a little bit. To get out of your hair and away from all the pressure. You're choking me. |
|
| mood: sad something in the real to share: I wish I were back on the south coast far away from all this. |
(0) comments |
| confessions |
Oct 1st, 2007 3:26:36 am - Subscribe |
| For those that know who I am and that I can be found here, this is my confession. This is something that shame would have made me hold back in the past, but perhaps the truth is the best way to setting myself free... The night before last, I attempted suicide. My partner had to hold me down forcibly to make sure that I didn't eat enough pills to actually do the job. I was taken to the hospital, and there bloods were taken and things were ok. They didn't pump my stomach. Tim's intervention meant that I couldn't swallow a fatal dose. I had been out drinking, and I knew lately that alcohol fueled my suicidal tendencies. I knew that after a few drinks I would play chicken with myself, practically dare myself to do what I couldn't do when I was sober. I'm now in a position where I can no longer drink. My relationship is hanging by a thread, because who would really want to make a life with someone intent on shortening their own? My partner is shaken, in fact, he's disturbed. I'm left thinking that perhaps the best thing would be for me to leave in case I disappoint him again. I'm terrified that in some perverse way, if I don't leave first, he'll leave me. So this is my confession. I'm here, just trying to make sense of it all.... |
|
| mood: reserved |
(0) comments |
| morning story |
Sep 4th, 2007 10:58:37 pm - Subscribe |
| Its early, and raining. Skinny leg boots, small buttocks and bad haircuts abound at the only open coffee location on camus. People sho up with "I just woke up" hair do's and "I'm late for class" walks. People order coffees with the urgency of "I've got to get back I might miss something". People sit alone, or together and discuss things. Im sitting alone. I'm wondering what I can do to make myself more comfortable, to make the rain stop, to make the sun shine. I am trying to convince the wind to stop blowing, the trees to grow faster, the climate to renig on its pan to destroy me, because it is too early. Suddenly I notice, over the pop radio rubbish, that the coffee cart has resorted to its false sincerity by calling the names of the people who it serves. I despise this, and although I have some ideas why I'm not 100 percent sure they are the root of the matter. In intend to talk about this with my therapist. I type without looking at the screen. I pretend to be fascinated with the rain swirls and this generates a real fascination with the apparently cross directional down pour. I've created myself into a character. I've made myself into a morning story. |
|
| mood: charming |
(0) comments |
| sleeping with the past |
Sep 2nd, 2007 3:33:03 am - Subscribe |
| Last night I went to a birthday party. It was a gathering of old school friends. We have known each other for more than 10 years. That feels kind of strange. Looking around them all. They're so straight laced really. They're not perfect, but they seem to get through life ok. I was the only one in the group without a job, Still at university. Of course, on paper I can tell them that I'm doing my second degree. It doesn't matter that I don't mention that I didn't complete the first one. It felt strange reminiscing. And now I've got a partner who fits their mold better than I ever did. I can't pretend to be some arty farty type anymore can I? I dislike looking back on the past, but I'm still around. I'm still seeing the same group of friends. I'm still doing the same old things. I'm still stuck at uni... I'm so ready to move into the future. I see my future as having a job, working hard, having a great relationship with my partner, who has been absolutely adorable lately, and as being safe, secure and comfortable enough that I can exppress myself in my free time. I don't want to end up a shell of my old self. I'm still frightened of things, but I'm not going to let that be a problem for me anymore. Motivate me. |
|
| mood: spirited |
(0) comments |
| hello kitty rocks your world |
Aug 30th, 2007 11:43:59 am - Subscribe |
 This is me. I am the hello kitty. I am not going to resize this image for you. Ok this isn't me. But recently in a discussion with a friend of mine, I was being so darned cute that there was mention of the throwing of hello kitties and this became the notion that I was the hello kitty... and since I so rarely post pictures on this blog, I really wanted to do this to you aLL!! THANX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111111111111 PS I have NO idea who the woman is standing next to me. I'm just a big overly cute white cat in a dumb pose minding my own business and she's all touching my arm and stuff! AND taking pictures. I swear I can't go anywhere! :| |
|
| mood: incredible |
(0) comments |
| random jibberish |
Aug 29th, 2007 4:16:59 am - Subscribe |
| I keep hearing phones that sound like mine, which reminds me that I haven't got a clue where my phone is. This is so fucking frustrating. I'm tired, alienated, unable to talk to anyone and friggen over this whole uni thing. I wish that there was something else I could do... Every guy that I see that fits my 'hot' criteria reminds me that I'm not really attractive by my own standards any more. I'm such a vain oersin, but its easy to be when you're surrounded by people who obviously spend their whole morning getting the,selves dressed up. I like to type while I'm looking around the roo. I don't need to look at the keys or the screen to type, although I will need to edit this later, but if all I'm doing it typing out my thoughts and I don't have to read at the same time 'll be pretty successful. Damn I love that this blog is all mine to write whatever inane shit comes into my head. If you can't tell I'm pretty scattered today and don't really know what the hell I'm going on about. I'm just sitting here in the info common wishing that I could take a nap. Naps are nice. Sleeping is wonderful. I need to find a quiet place to take a nap. Adieu |
|
| mood: wise |
(0) comments |
| over my dead body |
Aug 28th, 2007 4:14:08 am - Subscribe |
| I'm scared. I'm scared that there might be too much work to catch up on and not enough time. I was thinking and I thought I had a great tutorial attendance record, but if I was there the last couple of weeks in this one particular tute, I'm really unaware of what had happened. How did I miss so many? time to take the reins back. I'm not going back to that for anyone... there's too much to lose... |
|
| mood: reclusive |
(0) comments |
| another mind melt. |
Aug 27th, 2007 10:47:54 am - Subscribe |
| Its not that late, but I feel weary. I always seem to write when I'm in a down mood. Is it an exorcism or is it a catharsis? Or is it just another indulgence. The net is an indulging place. Step right this way, sir/madam. We have you scheduled for comfortable pigeon holing at any time you desire. Seek, seek I say! Hide, Hide, I insist. I'm not sure what I want to be writing. It should be so easy to sit down and work. I should take my meds on time. I shouldn't resist... resistance is futile. What is wrong with me?? What isn't wrong with me? I'm NOT sick. I have NO excuse. Face it, accept it and get the hell on with it. You're only procrastinating with your life little girl and now you're all grown up. So shit... or get off the pot. |
|
| mood: wretched |
(2) comments |
| stuck in the middle with myself. |
Aug 27th, 2007 8:18:17 am - Subscribe |
| My head is a mess again and my heart still doesn't trust me. There are so many changes happening in my world at the moment bloggosphere... and the further I go down the road, the further it will be to walk back if I lose confidence and scream STOP! FOR FUCK SAKE LET ME OFF THIS RIDE! But I don't want to use the safe word just yet, do I? In the garage is a car. In the car are my things. The immediate possessions I need to get through my life. In the car are the boxes and in the boxes are these things. I'm worried about so many things, uni, lifestyle. God I am packing on the pounds. I'd love to lose a good 15 pounds... I need to lose that much. I'm disgusting now. And not so long ago I had my body exactly the way I wanted it... and now it feels like all is lost. I feel like I'm constantly sick. My head spins, my fingers tingle and for no good reason my muscles clench on me. Its like dying slowly. All I want to do is sleep. And all around me the world keeps on turning like its not a big deal, and to be honest it shouldn't be... So why am I so desperately clinging to the idea that it is? Commitment, if you're serious, takes away your options. Its selfish to commit to someone if you don't intend to be here for very long. And the longer I commit for the more that grates on my spine... the more it gets under my fingernails... I'm promising never to do it... I feel trapped, kept, uncomfortable... Here is the hand out of the top of the hole! But where are the dressings for my hands when I get there? I want a pat on the back and a 'job well done'... Perhaps I need to keep climbing... |
|
| mood: jaded |
(0) comments |
| cog dis |
Aug 14th, 2007 11:43:59 pm - Subscribe |
| I miss my anonymity blog world. There's a difference between being anonymous and being ignored. I'm not sure what you want from me bloggosphere but I'm dying to give it to you and have you return the favour to me. But I don't have what you want right now it would seem. I don't have what you need and so you're not coming to me to find it. The world keeps spinning and every day I get more and more complacent. More and more selfish. Yeah, have babies, breed dogs, eat shitty junk food, get fatter, exercise less. Take time to smoke. Drink coffee which comes from the labor of people who can't afford to take so much for granted. Breathe deeply your own filthy air and push aside all feelings of futility. The world is not corroding. The world can go on like this forever and so can I. The problems facing us will be exciting new developments in the span of our short-in-comparison-to-the-planet history. So everyone... drive more, walk less. Eat meat. Wear fur. Don't stop at intersections and bring on th anarchy. Tron |
|
| mood: reserved something in the real to share: shy shy shy |
(1) comments |
| its all ok |
Aug 13th, 2007 8:14:39 am - Subscribe |
| I'm so tired. But I'm good. I had a great birthday weekend. Now its monday and I feel dreggy. Its cold. I don't want to go outside. I'm heading out for dinner. I've got a sleepy throat... you know that feeling you get when you're well tired. I don't want to be snappy with anyone. Maybe a hot shower will make me feel better. I don't know. I'm grasping at straws. So hey there blog world! You wonderful world you!! Pizza reflux burps and I'm definately putting on weight, and I'm kinda okay with it. I'm going to have to work to get fit again but for now its all ok. I'm young, in love, grown up, surrounded by good friends and family. In fact, fuck. Everything is ok. I'm always a little bit worried about uni but for now everything is ok. Its nothing that hard work and determination can't fix. So g'night blog world, hot shower, comfy clothes and uni work time! |
|
| mood: content |
(0) comments |
| la familia |
Aug 6th, 2007 8:09:00 pm - Subscribe |
| Someone spoke to me this week about sleeping forever. And it stuck with me. When I was younger I used to like the thought of sleeping through bad or undesirable or painful things unitl they were over. I used that technique a little bit when I broke up with Sam, but it didn't work. I just slept and every time I woke up, I had to remind myself what had happened and relived that fresh pain all over again. Tonight I'm not sleeping. I haven't slept a wink. I took a nap earlier on in the day so I couldn't doze off when I went to bed at 2am. Now it's nearly 6am and i still can't sleep. So forgive me if I don't make a coherent point. There are just some things that I feel I need to get off my chest right now. I'm also awake right now because I'd like to see the sun come up. I'm sure I've got massive bags under my eyes and when I finish writing this the sun will either be already up or I'll be pillow ready. I found myself thinking about my mum again tonight. And I found myself fucking missing her like hell. I miss so many things about her that it seems that only a sleep deprived delusion can unlock from within my mind. I think I've finally gotten to a point where I'm not embarrased of the person that she is. I have thought in the past that who she is, how she physically is and everything about her rather crude manner was something to be ashamed of. Yeah thats right. I admit it ashamed. Thats a huge part of the reason I've kept her at arms length. When I was a kid, I always used to think my mum was cool. She was a fun mum. A strict mum but a fun mum. We always used to get along. It helped to have a common enemy. But as I got older she scared me. She wasn't a fun mum, she was a dangerous mum with friends who smelled bad and a host of bad habits. I used to think I was old and wise because I'd realised that I didn't have to like my mum. But now I think I'm old and wise for a different reason. I think that whatever I feel about her as a person, doesn't stop the fact that she's my mum. And that means when I feel like a chat at 6am she's the person that I should be able to call. Whenever I'm lonely or unsure she's the one I should be able to get in touch with. I know this is a little childish, but I've got this big lonely hole in my heart where my mum should be. I lost the chance with my dad, and I used to think that it would be easier for me if my mum were dead. But she's not and I think that I'm depriving myself of something I've always wanted and needed. I really miss having a 'family'. I've tried to make other people part of my family, but there isn't that mutual obligation with people who you select as a family member. There isn't that guilt free feeling. I know that this like all my realisations won't last. I'll forget about it, get afraid of it or shy away. I'll distance myself again like I always do. Its not great but its me. The one thing you can always rely on about me is that I'm generally unrealiable. I guess what sparked all this thinking about families was some news that someone shared with me and watching other people and their families getting along in the world. Its so easy to see that and want that for yourself. It is so easy to crave that attention, that sense of belonging. One day I want my children to have a big family to be involved in. I want them to know that there's always one place where they will be unconditionally accepted. God. Damn. Don't we have the rose coloured glasses on this morning tron? You think its that fucking easy do you? You think any other family is that happy? Yeah, I do actually. And I think that I can have that for myself. I think I'm going to take a step and get in touch with my mother for my birthday this weekend... I miss her. And speaking of birthdays guess what world! I'm turning 23 this coming weekend. YAY for me. I don't know what to think about birthdays at the moment. Its not like they're that special something that you had when you were a kid (unless you're kate lol). I miss party hats and goodie bags. Now my birthday is just another reminder that I should be finished uni and out getting a degree and having a life. I've pushed myself away from my own life I think. Well tiredness is finally winning and i think I may be able to shut those lids and go to sleep... night/morning. Tron |
|
| mood: fatigued something in the real to share: i'm about to watch the sunrise. |
(0) comments |
| pillow mints |
Aug 5th, 2007 8:13:46 am - Subscribe |
| Today was another great triumph for the pharmaceutical sector of society once again proving that humans on drugs are far superior to sober humans. "a gram is better than a damn" I've caught up on much of the work I've been missing out on due to illness and begun a new course of mood stabilising goodness which should hurtle me into the coming weeks with a calm faced momentum. The strange feeling of standing outside a crowded room and not being able to make out what people are saying has mostly faded for now and the feeling of social paranoia, while still there, is at least manageable for now... you all love me right? Things in my relationship are good and the gnawing longing for the past has faded. I'm getting tired of dreaming things that seem real, so real that when you wake up, you almost relive the fresh feeling of grief that realigning yourself with the waking world brings. Its a pristine grief that I turn to on my pillow when my eyes open. it can be overcome This butterfly effect of waking and sleeping is probably the single most destabilising feeling that anyone could experience. Its a ground hog day of pain. But Life is so much more than these emo rantings and while I'm up up up and away on pseudoeffadrine, the world looks so pretty between the clouds. Loving you all... loving myself... loving life... not thinking about dying. Tron |
|
| mood: magical |
(0) comments |
| neurochem alignment |
Aug 3rd, 2007 12:09:25 pm - Subscribe |
| I went to the doctors today for some shots and a check up. Had to get a letter of support for my scholarship. Talked about how things have been in a decline lately. I've been confused. I've felt like a spectator watching a madman... like a rich woman in bedlam watching the festivities, but with the sudden and pervasive discomfort that you'd get if you suddenly realised that one of the patients was a close family member. So i've been privy to my own debilitation. Argumentative, unstable, more 'difficult'. So the solution for now is new meds. I know that seems like the easy way out, and thats because it is. Thats because I know I can get that sorted. I don't have to worry about appointments with people I don't feel comfortable seeing. To make matters really wonderful tonight I've got a dripping nose. Literally... Its fucked. It's gross. I'm all kinds of messed up today. Here's hoping that these new meds can join forces with my old meds and together they can stabilise my fucking moods finally. I just want to be happy... Tron |
|
| mood: nasty |
(0) comments |
| morning madness |
Aug 2nd, 2007 11:16:34 pm - Subscribe |
| Its early in the morning. Well, early as far as I'm concerned. its 9:10 in the am. I'm not interested in being asleep although sleep would probably do me a world of good. I can feel the bags underneath my eyes. I should get up and get myself a coffee, step outside and actually enjoy this overcast but still beautiful morning. But I'm not. I'm sitting here compelled once more to write my sweet nothings to you world. Sitting here not saying so very much that I would like to. Sometimes its best not to pen a confession. I'm now starting to feel like "the drugs don't work, they just make it worse still i know I'll see your face again". I'm starting to look into my mind and see corridors where there were wals. All these fucking dorrs and windows. I don't dare open or peer out. Ctrl Alt Esc. I think something is happening in my neurochem again. Its doing things that I thought it had well and truly given up on. I'm becoming a person I don't want to be again. There are so many things that I wish I could change... for fuck sake tron: hold your cards a little closer to your chest honey. I'm not a very good writer. I'm cliche and unimaginative at the moment and its eating me. I'm trying my best to come up with things that I can hold up and say: excellent, this was done by me. When you read this you're going to see something that you are going to remember for the rest of your life. But it isn't happening. I'm not making that. I'm not being that person... I'm falling so far from the person that I want to be... "I'll see you on level six, I'll stop in and say hello on my way through" Tron |
|
| mood: quiet |
(0) comments |
| pick a hat any hat... any hat will do |
Aug 1st, 2007 10:54:19 am - Subscribe |
| A friend told me something today that I just found really hard to swallow. He told me that he'd considered and got a referral to go to a psych and have himself checked out just in case there was something about him that just might show up in a personality test for a job or something somewhere along the line. I couldn't get my head around it. I told him that if he were really worried about his mental health and he was finding that there was some kind of impairment or some kind of distress in his life that he felt he could attribute to psychological reasons then yes, he should get treated. But he seemed to think that psychologists are the only people who can accurately and reliably tell you about little things to do with your own person that you won't be able to recognise yourself. I tried to explain to him that this wouldn't be any use anyway. You can lie on personality tests and you can lie to a psych. They aren't some kind of soul percieving machine that's going to suddenly be able to diagnose you so that you can look out for other situations like that in the future. I tried to explain that there are certain stigmas around mental illness (maybe even rightfully so? Subject for another blog) that he could do without. I tried to explain that when you get involved in all of this you can quite easily manifest symptoms. You can go in a normal healthy person and you can come out a jibbering wreck! He still seemed to think that there was some method to his 'madness'. Its a tell tale sign of society that my friend can sit there and over diagnose himself and his family and be okay with that. Perhaps they are a little dysfunctional, but it doesn't mean that they have mental illness. I mean, to some degree we all have illnesses in our body. Very few people get through the day without any kind of ache or pain. Without any kind of imperfection in their body and I think that a person's mind is just the same. We all can find symptoms that will match the diagnosis if we look hard enough. I just think that its a bees hive and should be left alone unless it interferes with your life. There are so many people out there struggling with mental illness. Its a pandemic. But we don't seem to be able to stem the flow of the disease. We don't seem to be able to stop the cause of the illness. We don't seem to be able to make people really better. And at the same time we don't want to let them be sick because they remind us that society as a whole generally seems to fail most people... fuck its a head spin isn't it. Well I hope you're all brave enough out there to just accept yourselves for who you are, without needing that fucking diagnosis of what you are. Night bloggosphere. Tron |
|
| mood: catatonic |
(0) comments |
| prepare the bandage, my hearts about to bleed a little... |
Jul 31st, 2007 10:13:02 am - Subscribe |
| So another day another university lecture. But it feels good to be engaging with the subject matter. It feels good also to be talking through my fingers again... "why are they called fingers? I've never seen them fing." I'm feeling distinctly more positive and more and more relaxed and focused. Maybe its staring at this screen and watching words form. Maybe its getting out of my own head. Being sick really fucked me over. I'm really pissed off at the moment. This is a slightly political whine specific to Australia, so feel free to tune out. Gunns Ltd a big nasty logging company based in tassie has been chopping down the old growth forrests for ages. They used to just chip the whole load of wood and send it overseas to make nice fat profits. But they had a little bit of a think about that and it turns out if they pulp the chip first and send the pulp overseas they make more money. So they petitioned the government to get this big filthy pulp mill through. Well it had to go through an independant commission and it was taking too long. This was starting to put Gunns off the project and they were apparently thinking of pulling out. So the government stood in, wrote special one off legistlation for gunns and then pushed past the independant commission and got the fucking thing passed. There are multiple negative environmental issues associated with the plant as well as the fact that the rate payers in the proposed area don't want the damn thing to go ahead. What pisses me off most is that the fucking government is blatantly flaunting the one rule for you and another rule for us policy they have going with big business. It's fucked. We live in one of the driest environments in the world and they want to use our water to pulp wood? They want to cut down the fucking trees which are a staple in the rain cycle. They wonder why we have climate chaos at the moment???? Its gotten under my skin. I'm sure if you had a little look you'd find shit loads of simmilar things floating around the world. I mean, what kind of world is it when we just fucking bypass the independent commissions to make rules for big business at the expense of people who are trying to live and enjoy their hard earned homes and lifestyles? It just fucked. Its as bad as the idea they have up in the town that I grew up in called Dungog to dam one of the valleys and create a huge dam to pump water down to the central coast miles and miles away because all the rich people with waterfront homes at gosford etc can't maintain their way of living because there isn't enough water down there. They want to sink lots of good farm land and push people out of their homes so that they can keep the richer more lucrative cunts in their lap of waterside luxury. Well i say that if you can't live there or you want to live there your water should cost heaps or you should abandon the place all together. I'm just tired of governments fucking around with the people that they are supposed to represent rather than doing their jobs. Promises promises and no fucking action. Tron |
|
| mood: cranky and crampy something in the real to share: i have NO hair :P |
(0) comments |
| step two three ten hut! |
Jul 30th, 2007 10:46:26 am - Subscribe |
| I'm restless. I'm restless. I am without rest. There is so much undone, not commenced, not considered. I am restless. There is not enough time. The time is going, leaving it is flitting out of my hands. My hands fidget. I am restless. I am listening to music and its letting me know one track at a time the speed of my life's departure. And I am restless. There's something I can't quite put my finger on. I think I've been picking old old scabs in my mind again and managed to wriggle one of my filthy chipped fingernails under it... I've lifted a little bit and it turns out the wound is still alive, there's still a little blood flowing there. I've tried. Fuck. I've fucking tired to cauterise this wound. I've heated it up to red hot and stuck that thing in there trying to burn, blister and heal. Illusions all of it. Now I'm restless. Illusions all of it. I dreamed last night that I was harry fucking potter trying to save the universe. Riding animals around. Pinching other people's magic wands and running amok trying to gain the acceptance of other people. Just try to focus on your new family and for your own sake; don't feel restless... "i think a semi colon should go here"... Don't hold on. Let that go. But I feel... Stop feeling. I'm pleading with myself to make this all fucking stop. Tomorrow will be another day and I feel like I'm slipping backward into something that I don't want to be in. I feel like i'm sliding into somewhere I'd rather not be. What I wouldn't give for a cigarette... quitting is for quitters. Fuck this shit. Fuck my shit. Fuck this restlessness.... I just want to write. A thousand words. I don't care what they mean or they don't. I want to hold my own exorcism because here is my vomit and my head is fucking spinning. I shouldn't swear so much. I'd rather type than write these days. I'd rather scream than speak. I'd rather cry than sleep. I'd rather smoke than eat. I'd rather punch than kiss. I'd rather bite you than touch your lips. I'd rather breathe than break... but I'm breaking. Just for a moment. I'm restless. My mind is restless. My brain is restless. My life is restless... my head is spinning... My insides rebel against the picket fence. The dichotomy arises and I become a diptych inside myself... a trichotomy when you count the objective observer inside... "don't ask me kid, I just work here" Fuckers. ALL OF ME AND ALL OF YOU ARE FUCKERS!!!!!!!! The whole world is full of assholes and I'm just one shit away from flushing myself for good. Don't you think? Reflexive question. Let it all out baby. Let the words flow out. Fuck you've been spewing for four or five days now whats one bout of verbal diarrhea in the mix of all these mind numbing symptoms. Don't measure your words, lest they prove the measure of your mind. Tron |
|
| mood: distressed |
(0) comments |
| sick sick sick |
Jul 29th, 2007 5:10:41 am - Subscribe |
| Four days of throwing my hole up. Its been fun. Of course throwing up means either not taking my meds because its a waste to throw them up or heaving them. So I feel just fucking dandy at the moment. Sick and now depressed. WOOOO. So trying to study would be a great idea if I wasn't so tired. I think I'll just suck it up and try anyway. take care. |
|
| mood: deranged |
(0) comments |
| its of |