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tron late night ramblings. - 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.
1 Comments
Mood: disappointed with myself, but stubborn.

end-of I stubbornly refuse. Feb 25th, 2008 3:33:42 am - Subscribe
Forget me, life:
I'm not worth living.
I refuse to accept
the motions of time.

The hands of the clock
go round still, ticking;
but here inside me
shadows are motionless.

Forget me, world,
'cause I'm not moving.
I won't follow you
down into the dark.

You go on without me -
out into the endless
field of continuum -
and I'll just stay here.

Forget me, time.
I will not limp forward.
More pain in the finite
than I can contain.

In loving and in living;
in losing and letting go -
in death, ressurection:
indefinite agony. So I won't.

So forget me.
1 Comments
Mood: fed up.

end-of undesired. Feb 22nd, 2008 4:42:50 am - Subscribe
undesired.
I struggle
against it
my battle
unmarked
unwanted
by you
falling apart
at the seams,
undesired
the very thread
of my being
unwound;
unspoken -
unwanted
cast out.

you confuse
aiming
to amuse
yourself and
conspire
to tire -
make me feel
undesired
I won't bite now
won't play
games never
make you stay -
from worlds away,
I appeal,
an unsealed deal
waiting for you
to sign or
repeal.
until you give me all -
your safety net,
collecting dust -
I await the fall.
0 Comments
Mood: exhausted. Seriously.

end-of meteor. Feb 12th, 2008 11:32:06 pm - Subscribe
in
its teeth I
lie still,
knowing that
to fight
only
cuts me
deeper.

at the eye
of this storm
I bleed,
lonely,
watching
life going on
without me.

the archaeological
marvel
of me and my
petrified heart -
me,
the stone,
frozen in time.

I wander,
I wonder,
I wish; and I tire
of desire,
wanting only
not to
want
anymore.

so lonely,
so empty
I can't help
but feel that
I am a meteor
crashing
very far
from home.

I crave change
yet revile it
with care
you
preserve me
as I am -
left behind.
0 Comments
Mood: fossilized.

tron 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.
5 Comments
Mood: explosive

end-of so I run. Feb 8th, 2008 12:19:28 am - Subscribe
across these empty reaches
of white and waiting
I flee understanding,
wanting to remain numb.

for my glass heart I fear -
words pursue me across the paper.
you live in all of my words
but you are no longer my home.

so I run; and every time I smile,
everything I taste or feel -
everywhere I go without you knowing
where I am - does not seem real.

stone that I am, I have not
changed my mind, nor yet let
the killer hope dissolve inside -
my glass heart has not worn to sand.

pain follows, but cannot have me.
and without meaning to,
I hope you read these words:
I live like a bird but love like a mountain.

so I run, I fly; I become a kite -
praying this lifeline you've thrown
won't hang me. I fall in flame and wait,
desiring to rise again from these ashes.
2 Comments
Mood: in pieces.

tron 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"

I may know the word
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.
0 Comments
Mood: stormy

tron 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.
1 Comments
Mood: smooth

tron 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.
1 Comments
Mood: tenacious

tron 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.
2 Comments
Mood: regretful

tron 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.
0 Comments
Mood: mad
something in the real to share: 'better version of me' fiona apple

end-of wasted. Jan 17th, 2008 7:09:20 am - Subscribe
terrible
to find the truth
of my own glory
as it slips away

so painful
to find the saying true:
you don't know what
you've got 'til it's gone.

unbearable
to think of all that time
I wasted
in sorrow

when all along
I had you!

then what had I
to complain of?

I had you.

what tear brightened
my eye,
what bitterness
escaped my lips?

I had you.
I had you,
and I did not
fear your loss.

oh, child,
you learn too late
of the joy you held
even in your pain.

and a joy so close,
so constant, it seems,
that I took for granted
that you belonged with me.

even then,
with you behind me
I should have been stronger
should have rejoiced

for I had you -
what more need I?

and here at the dawn
of the darkest of times

unbearable,
to see that I
might have been happy -
I had you.

so terrible
to think of chances wasted
while I still had your heart
forever.
0 Comments
Mood: most unhappy.

end-of more than. Jan 10th, 2008 1:57:39 am - Subscribe
what do I have
when it's empty -
quiet and lonely -
in me?

I have you -
holding me close
in photographs;
a memory.

and where do I go
when the silence
here every day
is the same?

I have you -
your voice on my
answering machine;
a memory.

so what do I feel
when I'm drowning;
not wanting
another day?

I need you -
here loving me
in touch and sound;

not just a memory.

I need you
loving me for all I am;
not trying to forget -

I need more than a memory.
2 Comments
Mood: lonely.

tron 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.
1 Comments
Mood: sketchy

tron 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...
2 Comments
Mood: withdrawn

end-of drum dance. Dec 21st, 2007 6:54:29 am - Subscribe
the dance;
the tribal rite -
the drum:
thud
thud
slam

pound -
the beating
of a heart:
my heart
a drum:
thud
thud
slam

what comes
I know not,
but the
pounding
rhythm
hints of pain.

my heart,
thud
thud
slam,
warns me
to be afraid.

reckless tempo;
wild dance:
all is not
as it ought -
thud
thud,
slam

oh, something
is wrong;
I daren't
seek the truth -
the fire leaps;
the drum -
thud
thud
slam -

my heart
pounds harder,
terror rising.
this dance,
an ancient one
thud
thud
slam:

I know not
what I fear -
thud
thud
slam -

my heart,
the drum,
is wiser.
thud
thud
slam.
0 Comments
Mood: wary and afraid.

end-of metamorphosis. Dec 17th, 2007 5:29:12 am - Subscribe
bitterness made beautiful:
my words like circles;
my heart the echo
of a distant drum's shudders.

an emptiness like strangers:
a canvas too forbidding -
possibilities unchanced,
the air awake with potential.

bitterness made beautiful:
a stab of agony carved in crystal,
a starless night cast in ebony -
the catharsis of loveliness;

despair's breathtaking imagery.

the lonely mountains mourning, the
white winter forests of my heart
awaiting the april of poetry;
the thaw that comes in words.

the chrysalis of pain's
transformation into wisdom.
collections of polished moments
line the museum of my memory.

so as the blade bites in,
I turn my veins into blank pages
and my blood into words;
so the wound becomes a story, a song,

a bitterness made beautiful.

the depth of hurt: an ocean
beneath whose opal waves I drown
the loneliness and sorrow
that I, in language, cast.

a bitterness made beautiful.
1 Comments
Mood: words.

tron 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
2 Comments
Mood: indescribable

tron 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.
1 Comments
Mood: well

tron 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.
4 Comments
Mood: shattered