what was and now is not

a list:

too much and too often i am

-waiting
-smoking
-cackling
-picking at things
-pacing
-wanting
-trying to make people understand what it is to be like this
-marveling at people who float through like they dont care
-confused
-under the influence
-awake
-reaching


what is it to want anyway. a simple thing really. i see people at work and i want to touch my chin to their shoulders. i sense the grief in old people and i want to take them to dinner and let them spill over the table into my brain. preparation. i want so many things. ive said it before. never the storybook romance, never the picket fence. maybe a sense of being that isnt ever changing. maybe another person who can tell me what it means to exist and how we can change that state. think tanks. other people. i want to peel them open and crawl into their warm minds. invasion. always the invader. not true. somehow im always left on the side of the road. scratching my head and trying to find a highway to get home and clean myself up. thumbs out, mouth open. wonderful image.

last night i dreamt. finally.
about a woman in the rocks of the ocean in a dress that was so red when it touches the water and blended into the waves it looked like she was bleeding satin.
a rape and a worse form of love.
of work. and the people there. its funny how your mind changes people and in the dreams you have they look how you feel about them.
and me waiting on the edge of a bed for someone who would never come. heh. take it how you want it.

maybe its cause i watched Fur directly before going to sleep.

i feel strange today. awesome.

:/

compulsion

lately i'm the walking dead.
exhausted.
[constantly moving]

my nails are chipping and peeling. they must not like my fingers. hm.

a movie has invaded my head like a disease. creating some obsession i'm sure i've seen before. a touch scary. not all together unpleasant.

going back to school is like learning to swim all over again after a paralyzing event has made you forget you had legs. the kids in my class are dyed and inked and tough and bold. and im the meek girl with clothes that still have thrift tags that always chooses the corner seat. shuffling.
tuition- 500
art supplies- 150
gas-3,000
that feeling of so this was that awkward dance i hated on the first day of school - priceless


bah.
i think...
i'm waking up now.
i feel slightly brighter.
maybe this chance wont be for nothing. i'm sure i'll have the strength to leave and press restart.
this has to be the turning point they all talk about. the moment.

his voice, his eyes, an act in a story recorded and sold. and me buying copies with money i dont have, watching again and again as he tells her to live, tells her what she knew she should have done all along.
such simple messages, wrapped in velvet and hidden.
[you're looking back..... downfall]


hmm.

what should i do now?

im horrible with decisions.


god i've missed blogging.