furrow [part 2 maybe]

i have no idea what i am doing here. my eyes touch over things and quickly pass on.
i step back even a foot and think shit what the fuck is going on, i must be crazy.
but we're standing face to face promising each other that this isn't what it look like, hands up palms out trying to prove our sincerity while still hiding behind sarcasm and defense mechanisms. the question hangs heavy: what are we? and i don't have an answer, i would prefer we were nothing. simple flesh and blood beings in a state of existence, in close proximity.
hah. right.
anxiety, paranoia, all the wonderful emotions that wreck you when you have something bright in your eyes rolls over me in waves.
all i want in this world is something that i can have, just for a moment, that wont crash and burn explode in flames die in my arms.
i want to keep something when it feels like everything has slipped away.
lately i'm walking head up again, engaging people at work, laughing and dyeing my hair.
but its all a wonderful show, a type of game i've created, to see how much i can forget by focusing on this smile i've been putting out. smile stephanie, big. the people at work tell me i'm happy, calm, nice. inside i'm raging sometimes, crying all the time, wondering why i get out of bed at all. the depression lingers but is made sweeter and a touch delightful by the secrecy and intimacy.
no ones wants to know the other me, not anymore. i've run out of time for sugar coating and gentle whispers.
back to this though.
i'm tired of men. so tired. the interaction- burning passion in the beginning, tearing at each other, needing and seeking and warm only for it all to turn to turn cold in time. nothing like the smoldering growing love and friendship i read about in books, see in movies. i'm so tired. i've already been robbed of my womanly abilities, the rest seems ridiculous now.
i'm so bitter. lost.
so what am i doing here?
i want him to stay arms length, just far enough to hear me talk. just close enough to smell my hair and skin and want me. i need him to want me. as much as i don't want him to love me, i want him to still want me.
it doesn't make sense i know.
but its not one sided.
all his hurt i want to feed on it, i want his stories to come to my ears too, i want to keep him to myself.
it is nothing short of ridiculous.


i have to stop thinking about it and just go with it.
it never works. but the few delicious moments it does seem worth it.
touch now, fall apart later. i have been through it enough to know ill survive at least.


sigh. unfinished thoughts.

overload[ing]

woof, what a couple of weeks.
everything is packed in pretty tight. cracking almost.

i feel like ive been driving EVERYWHERE. my car is racking up miles and adjusting to having a person in her constantly. we know each other by touch now, she turns with a thought, and i feed her and feed her and feed her till my pockets rip and the gas station attendant knows my full name and social security number. its not a terrible thing. its the restless i need out now what are you doing oh you need a ride sure kinda thing i get when im feeling needy and anxious. my back is sore but ive learned that stopping just right is a back stretch inertia style. trips across town are always exciting. in case you dont know i am stephanie proud owner of a car but not of a license. (riding durty) breaking the law is easier when you have a car full of people and a city full of cops. vroom.

painting has been frustrating. ive been knocking out pieces but a week ago i stopped. the flow stopped. i have sketches and fancy tools i want to try out but my brain seems crippled under stress, or the coffee the constant coffee, or the fact that the insomnia is back. all night i watch law and order SVU and read and walk by the leaning canvasses and brushes but when i sit and set up and decide im going to do this it just fails. blah ive never been so frantic to just have an idea. but something in there tells me its all been done, and how creative can you be on an art budget not fit for a kindergarten class, etc. this better pass.... yes?

the boy i live with is an alien. hes the hardest person to understand in the entire world. ive never met someone who loves to be with me so much but hates to be around the people i know. he just clams up, closes down, pulls away and its a terrible feeling to watch him fail every first impression when it comes to the others i hold dear in my life. like a double life its just too much to cottle everyone. thats the overall feeling i guess when it comes to people right now. i mean friends are nice but seriously needy. more so than me. i find myself wandering through them week to week throwing myself around the city and calling and calling to schedule and confirm. im exhausted. and the days are far and few that i can just sit and have someone come to me. someone visit me here, and ask me how im doing. its not terrible work though, loving them. they are a great group. but i want to be needy too. im so good at it.

i miss my mom, she should come home already.

i really wish i had a small dog. like a weenie or a little orange terrier (hah like the one next door i sneak treats to) i need a cuddle buddy.

everything else is cake. right. no, its a massive overdose of what the fuck.

i just want to move to california, show my art in the city, live in the mountains, take a pretty girl as a lover and retire.

perfection. [want]

gotta go.

give thanks

for the simple and moving things we have.

sometimes there is nothing else.