Saturday, December 31, 2011
Too early in the game
Aah, but I thought
I'd ask you just the same
What are you doing New Year's
New Year's eve?
Wonder whose arms
Will hold you good and tight
When it's exactly
Twelve o'clock that night
Welcoming in the New Year
New Year's eve
Maybe I'm crazy to suppose
I'd ever be the one you chose
Out of a thousand invitations
Aah, but in case
I stand one little chance
The jackpot question in advance
What are you doing New Year's?
New Year's Eve?
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
I'm a bundle of nerves right now. It's like my heart's rattling about, bouncing of bones and just.
Scene One take two. Speed, mark it-
I'm a bundle of nerves.
But I'll pull through. Don't I always?
But I can do this, I can. I always have.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
And then the other half of you is left floating.
Floating in a way that almost makes you uncomfortable. Floating in a way that makes you scared of the way you fall against a girl's skin and realize that her breath gives you rest.
Floating in a way that only roots you in the way it's unfamiliar- nice, but unfamiliar.
Maybe, could you just, hold me.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Reminds me of Christmases with short hair and scarves even though I was here, and strutting about town and taking turns to pout for his camera.
Reminds me of being sixteen and free and happy and writing and a at the doorway to the world of possibilities.
And now that I'm writing about it-
Corinne May reminds of being fifteen, meeting Enqing for the first time and being comfortable and sane and safe amongst people similar to me and getting lost in the rehearsals and the singing and the being.
And you, you kept me safe, in a crazy world.
-- Pastor Bill Johnson
Someone, someone help me, help me to breathe. To stop this churning in my chest and this burning in my eyes. The sound of rushing waterfalls in my ears- it's too much, all of it, it's all too much now.
Maybe, maybe if you cut me open you could help stop my insides from thrashing about in fear, keep my skin from spasming as the world breathes and breathes and breathes onto me.
Go away. Won't all of it just go away?
I don't need very much.
Just a dark little corner and a box of matches.
I could make wishes with each light.
I could pretend I'm alright
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
When I have options, I pick corners. Actually, I either pick tiny, tiny corners or large open spaces. It's this bizarre clash in my personality- extrovert meets introvert. There isn't a happy middle, it's always a little bit of both.
And so, when moving things about in my room, I often wonder if my choice of furniture location makes me feel at all claustrophobic. It doesn't.
I seem to find a tilt that I am comfortable with; Corners for me to hide in and feel safe, while creating an illusion of space so that it doesn't feel so cloistered.
It's important for me- finding just the right degree of whatever it is. And I don't suppose my spaces are often the ones that would be deemed as having good feng shui. But hey, the space is mine.
And I am safe.
And the cat's in the cradle
Friday, December 2, 2011
I spent the whole of last month fretting. Close to tears and on the brink of insanity. Hating myself for wanting something so much.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
There's this sense of purpose I'm feeling start to slowly slip away from me. I'm not prompted to write very much. I just end up looking at pictures of beautiful people and going running and then coming back home, to end up eventually looking at more pictures and then going running again.
Maybe the running gives me a sense of purpose and that's why I'm leaning on it so much.
I like making my days productive.
And so far, they have been.
But I guess I miss feeling somewhat of use. Needed. And all that, you know?
This whole working backwards is a whole lot harder than I thought.
At this time last year, I knew exactly where I was.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
I'm so scared, and I don't think I'll make the cut.
But more than anything, I want that letter, rejection or otherwise, to come now so that I can pick myself up and think about what happens next.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
If you don't.
You can't make your heart feel
Something it won't.
Here in the dark
In these final hours,
I will lay down my heart
And I'll feel the power;
But you won't.
No, you won't.
'Cuz I can't make you love me
If you don't.
Morning will come,
And I'll do what's right;
Just give me till then
To give up this fight.
And I will give up this fight.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
That was a funny one, wasn't it?
And remember that time when you held me in a playground as my knees gave out while you made my skin tingle and my breath felt like it was singing and my fingers gripped old plastic and you pulled me tighter to you and remember, remember what you said?
"I've got you. Don't worry, I've got you." And your whispers felt like warm smoking promises curling themselves behind my ear and I, I loved you despite myself.
And you did have me that night, just like you've got me now and everyone knows this would be easier if you didn't but it's too late now isn't it? That's what we get for giving ourselves away and I can't say for sure that I'd have it any other way.
But remember, remember that time when-
Oh those promises, they were the funniest thing weren't they? How you've got me wrapped around your littlest finger, it's the funniest thing, isn't it?
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
I've always felt most comfortable in empty dance studios, with the curtains drawn and empty theatres with the lights down.
I've always written, where I couldn't speak, and written, so that I could.
I was once told last year that it felt like I was exclusive- like I wrote so much that I didn't talk about these things that mattered.
But let's face it, people have lives to live and other things to talk about. Things they'd like opinions on, or a listening ear for. Things that matter.
"Are you going to be okay?" You asked. Well I wasn't really not okay. But to honestly answer your question, yes. Yes I'll be okay, and I wanted to say that.
Yes, I'll be okay, because when I'm not, I'll get over it or around it or sit in it until I am okay.
Yes, I'll be okay, because I can still hold on to my writings, and me.
I don't need to talk out loud about mindless things like how my nightmare stayed inside my bones even after I woke up, rattling about inside me as I walked about from place to place. And how it hurt as it rattled about, come to think of it. How I was scared, and am still scared to fall asleep again and find myself back there. How I cried so much in that nightmare that I'm sure I woke up to find my eyes brimming, but that despite having been bawling, my pillow wasn't soaked yet.
Or how I woke up dreaming I was falling into space and how I was sure it was a ride, but it wasn't, but maybe it was. And what I was most concerned about was if I'd left anything behind in the seats.
Or how today, something happened with one of the boys that stilled my insides and made me draw in a huge breath. That made me cry at dinner as I talked about it. That's left me thinking about it all day, making me more frustrated at the environment around it- because no one caught that or could hold onto that, in that moment. And I am wrapping myself around it, keeping it here and trying to hold on to it with the weight of me.
How I thought it was one of the most beautiful moments I'd ever found myself in. And how it rang with such truth that it felt like silver falling to sand and still making a sound.
Because here I am, with my words. And all my sappy little feelings. And my soul, here. And it's okay that I am here, with my words. In this space and/or spaces of the like- physical and non-physical pages.
I used to be quite silly. I used to go on and on and on about the most weightless things that my significant others cared nought for. And then I stopped and wrote more.
And then, there was you.
And often times I am confused- because, to be quite frank, there's hardly time these days to talk about, well, all these little things that like to find themselves fluttering about in my head. There's a lot of other things that are going on.
It's not that I wouldn't like to talk to you love, on the contrary, I'd very much love to, on days you felt like listening to my incessant ramblings.
I love talking with you. I'd love to talk with you.
But those days that I get to, until they come back, yes ma chérie, yes I'll be okay.
Because I've got pen and paper.
And I've got these empty chairs.
Children don't lie either. They don't start off lying. Babies don't cry for the sake of crying, they cry because they need something. Somewhere along the way though, they do start. They find words that can or might mean other things, they pick up from whatever is around them, and they learn. They learn to lie.
And they learn to lie, from adults.
That's why people like good theatre. Because it's easier to watch someone else be honest in a "controlled environment" than be honest yourself, back in the real world. And we all know good actors don't lie. They aren't lying, they're being. They're letting things affect them as it happens, moment to moment. Also, you can't lie to your audience. You don't have to be in the industry to be able to see whether or not the person on stage/on film is really doing or thinking something.
I'm annoyed today. I am annoyed and drained out and empty. That's what I am, empty. Or bordering on.
Because I feel like I am suffocating, choking on everybody's empty words. Watching sticks being dangled in front of children like carrots. Except they're not. They're sticks. They are fucking sticks, okay?
And it feels like everywhere I turn, full grown adults are lying and blatantly teaching children to do the same. They're coaxing, baiting- instead of embedding seeds of thought, what they're doing is planting key words pulled straight from a textbook. Hoping, hoping, hoping, that these key words will come up, will resurface, will be used so that they can say, "Ah ha! Look at the work I've done."
I wish these people would see, that there are so many who are ready to learn. Who are sitting there, open to you, trusting you to bring them to a different place. And no, it might not be all of them; it might be the bare minimum out of the group. But those who do, want to so badly. They want to so much that they look into themselves, and they're searching and they're trying to find their words when all you want to do is give them multiple choice and cloze passages.
I turn around, and the ones who are fronting are the adults. The ones who don't trust themselves are the adults. The ones who don't trust each other are the adults. And you, you are allowed to guide these children?!
And I'm not even talking about any one person in particular here, I'm talking about an entire team. I'm talking about us.
You, we, can keep lying, but the only one buying it is ourselves.
Christ, everywhere I fucking turn, it's wave after wave of half-lies, economical truths, empty promises, meaningless words. Shut up for two seconds. Just shut the fuck up, and stop saying things if you feel like you need to say something other than what you mean.
I'm not saying I don't lie, deliberately or otherwise. I'm not saying I don't front sometimes. We all do because we're conditioned like that. And really, honestly, we're scared.
So then, we find an environment where we can break ourselves open. And in this same space, because we can, we can bring people to that same sanctuary.
So that for just a little while, there is escape from the masquerade of everyday life.
So that for just a while, you can be honest and not be wrong.
So that, for just a while, you are allowed to be no one else, other than yourself.
Here's the catch-
You can't bring someone somewhere you've never been. You can discover it together, but you can't lead and guide someone to truth that you have never known.
In other words, you need to be honest with yourself and where you've been and therefore, where you can take people.
There's a difference between a carrot and a stick. And oh, believe me, I have been fifteen and had sticks dangled in front of me. And at fifteen I was fully capable of telling the difference between a carrot and a stick.
But I'm not about to play fetch with you because honey,
I am not your bitch.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
And the light's always red in the rear-view
Desperately close to a coffin of hope
I'd cheat destiny just to be near you
If this is giving up, then I'm giving up
If this is giving up, then I'm giving up, giving up
On love, On love
Driving away from the wreck of the day
And I'm thinking 'bout calling on Jesus
'Cause love doesn't hurt so I know I'm not falling in love
I'm just falling to pieces
And if this is giving up then I'm giving up
If this is giving up then I'm giving up, giving up
On love, On love
And maybe I'm not up for being a victim of love
When all my resistance will never be distance enough
Driving away from the wreck of the day
And it's finally quiet in my head
Driving alone, finally on my way home to the comfort of my bed
And if this is giving up, then I'm giving up
If this is giving up, then I'm giving up, giving up
On love, On love
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
My body however, will be massively fucked up in the most amazing ways if I lived alone. Which is a bit of a peeve sometimes. I mean, we only get one life, there should be a snippet of time where we're allowed to fuck our bodies up. Of course I say this figuring that once that happens, I'll just go fix it/fix me. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who functions like this.
If I lived alone-
I'd probably end up working out a lot, sleeping, having lots of smoked salmon and pairing that with moscato or late harvests. But then, I might also still be stuck smoking, unless it affected my working out enough to piss me off. I wouldn't have a telly, because that'd be a waste of space. I'd have too many shoes and I'd have set times to do my laundry.
I think I'd be a little bit crazy, because I'd allow myself to get there, and it'd take a lot more work than it has to be normal but it'd be a story for telling.
My, if I lived alone.
I did yoga at home this evening, and went for a run that was longer than it's been in a while but not nearly long enough as I'd like.
I miss Muay Thai a lot. And I want to go get me a pink yoga mat. Or red, seeing as that's my favourite colour. It's just, pink things are rather cute aren't they?
I'm going to sleep now, so that I can wake up and hang out with my favouritest pony in the wooooorld.
Wallaby Joe makes my mornings worth waking up for!(:
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
It’s all a test. When you’re apart, it will make you count down the days, look at your calendar, and pray that time goes by faster. When you’re together, it makes you wish time would stop, that not a second you spend with them goes to waste. It’s one of the most painful loves you can go endure. It’s one of the most rewarding loves you can achieve. It’s not for the weak of heart, but for the strong in faith. It will show how much you actually care for a person. And it will open your eyes to never take any and every moment you share with the one you love for granted. It will make you miss them every time they aren’t with you. And sometimes, the distance will break you. But, through everything, that person miles away gives you a goal. They are your reason. Because you know that no one will nearly make you as happy as they can. No matter how far they are, you know in your heart that if you love them, the waiting is worth it. It’s all a test. A test we can pass if we have patience, dedication, and most importantly, love.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Have you fall asleep cuddled up with me, or the other way round, on a rainy day.
Do groceries, eat junk. Heat up soup, cook you noodles that taste like shit. Maybe not the latter, I'll have to fix my cooking.
Give you back rubs, hold your hand.
I'd do it all again, even though I'd been wishing for you long before you'd even left.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
That in that moment, all I wanted to do, was get it right. Something. and I could get this right, I could. Find a sense of normal.
Except my only problem of course, is that it turns out to be wrong.
I'm still grappling with that, to be honest.
We're in different boats in terms of handling what's happened. Anyone can see that.
And for once,
I wish I wasn't alone in this.
I've gotten it wrong, I've still gotten it wrong. And now I can't find my right, let alone left and I'm, I'm all wrong now. All wrong.
And no, we're not okay. There is fear that fills the spaces between all the words we're not saying, the words we can't find, the words we won't try to.
We're not okay. Not right now.
Actually, we seem a long way off from it.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
When I was interesting, fascinating? Yours for the unwrapping, yours to discover.
When you wanted to hear what I wanted to say and what I thought. When you'd hit the space button in the middle of a movie, to say, "Talk to me" because you always read me like a children's book. When I was the person you felt like calling after running into an estranged cousin, in the middle of a rainy afternoon.
When you wanted me.
A character told me yesterday that I intrigued him, that he wanted to talk to me more, and why don't I come sit down for a beer. He stuck a dirty orange-tipped cigarette between his lips, with no intention of lighting it and instead, fidgeted with his white lighter.
I've heard that quite a few times before, that I'm "intriguing". Intriguing, interesting, they're all the same thing after a while. And honestly, the only thing they want to do is get into your knickers. I figured that was the objective he was playing, it had to be.
He catches me by the waist when my back is to him, when I'm trying to walk away, and he asks why I don't want to fuck him.
Because I mean, I suppose that's what most men want to do to things that intrigue them, right?
I wasn't lying when I said no.
What if I told you that I don't care very much for attention unless it's yours? That I don't need to be intriguing to anyone aside from you. That you've got enough of me to break now.
And for 9minutes, that's all you're allowed to do- take it all in.
I couldn't find myself today.
That was the problem.
Funnily enough, my day itself was good. I just couldn't find myself in it. And I suppose, for the most part, I was looking.
For me that is.
So yes, tonight served as a trigger, but I'm aware that there's been something pushing at my insides with the weight of ignorance, willing my skin to break. The problem of course, is that I don't know where to start. I never know where to start. I start without knowing that I have and find myself somewhere in the middle, flailing about, waiting for the rest of me to catch up.
I wasn't crying, tonight, I wasn't desperate. I was just looking. And I knew exactly what I was looking for, I just needed to find it.
Where tonight left you, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
I wish it didn't.
There's a numbing ring of familiarity to your words now. I miss a step, and am grabbing blindly now for something I can hold on to.
There isn't anything. But then, that's my fault and I'm fully aware I deserve it.
You need to know though, that you can't be a wrong or right answer. You aren't, you never were. This doesn't change it.
I wish you knew that.
I wish you didn't leave thinking less of me.
I wish I hadn't hurt you.
I wish I could explain this better. I thought I had before. I thought we'd sat in parks talking about this before we had any idea that it might have the ability to hurt more than ourselves, of the two people sitting there in that pavilion that rainy afternoon.
I wasn't trying to hurt anyone tonight.
I was just looking for something I couldn't find. Looking for something tangible, something I could hold on tight to.
I was just trying to get something right, because it's been a while.
I was just.
I couldn't find myself today.
I suppose that was the problem
Saturday, October 15, 2011
I wouldn't care that where we both stand might make it weird, and that we're not even talking about the same person,
But I'd reblog that girl's words.
Because it sure is the closest thing that makes sense to me right now
Friday, October 14, 2011
"For it; this person or feeling or whatever it is, I want it to stay."
Everytime I'm in the space (the space which transcends time and space itself and everything else), all my issues come bubbling up.
Acting is hardly as much of a performance as it is, essentially, exploration of self.
And of course, the courage to do that. Which not all of us have.
So much, just so much of yourself
And here's another thing-
It's not about how good you are. Well obviously if you're shit and don't know it then we've got a problem. That aside,
It's not about how good you are, it's about whether or not you're what they want/what they're looking for.
Why do actors have such insecurity, people have asked.
Because we spend so much time trying to be what someone else needs us to be. Which is funny when the key thing about acting is being yourself.
The truth is simple- that's a compound lie.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
When you don't get it, or you can't have it,
It's going to hurt.
And that's what I'm scared of right now.
People say they're "scared" about going for auditions all the time. They say they're scared but most times, their fear is of the performing. Of the presenting to an audience. Of giving a shitty performance.
I think what I'm most afraid of, is what happens if I don't make the cut
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Always been conditional.
I think I've gotten to a point where I'm not angry or offended, I've become a bit too tired for that.
The problem though, is that it isn't water off a duck's back. I don't have feathers, for one, and definitely not the waterproof sort either. So there are a lot of words that soak through my skin and find their way inside me.
And baby, I've got poison running through my veins.
Poison running through my veins. I have for quite a fair many years now.
And in the glow of orange lamps, or sunlight (or moonlight) that's slipped through curtains, in empty stairwells and quiet parks,
where hands reach in desperate need to lay claim, where every whisper is a promise to break, where teeth sink into flesh so they can call your pain theirs-
I have been called beautiful.
Beautiful, so, so beautiful, they've said.
Leaving fingerprints where you shouldn't and stains that I wanted to burn off my skin. Beautiful, they've said.
But oh, you don't need me to believe you, just like I didn't need you to lie.
My beauty, I've always known, is conditional. Circumstantial.
"He said I had an interesting face. Me and Marilyn Monroe, we have 'interesting' faces. He laid me then, and took some pictures. Then he laid me again. Know what my interesting face was Stephen? Boredom. I kept waiting for him to wake me up."
-- Janice; A Sea Of White Horses. A monologue excerpt.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
It never used to be like that.
I hate where this might end up. I wish I'd never said anything, anything at all.
Because honestly, the more I think about it, (despite already having known this) I realize again, that falling asleep together is just as much spending time as sitting and doing nothing, as drinking coffee and people-watching.
When did we stop having time for all the little things?
I wish I'd never said anything.
Because there were more important things we'd just begun talking about. To which I want to say, "Your break is long overdue hon."
I wish I'd never said anything.
Because it just opened up a can of worms that didn't need opening tonight. Because it's storming outside, and it'd have been nice if you stayed.
Because I didn't mean to, but I ended up adding to the knots in your shoulders.
Because it's something that would've gone away in time.
Because I didn't want to cry tonight.
I think I was needlessly tripping off things that didn't warrant tripping off. And for that I feel like a first class idiot, and I am beyond annoyed and frustrated at myself. And honest to God, right about now has me missing cold metal against skin.
On a separate note-
It looks like a busier-than-usual week for me. And it will end off with something I've been both anticipating and dreading for weeks, months almost.
I haven't gotten to talk about it,
but frankly speaking, I'm scared.
I'm scared and unsure, and yet, I gave up something that came (more or less) with a guarantee to step in this direction.
And, just like it is a problem in most other areas of my life, and a growing one at that, I'm not always prepared to take for myself.
I'll work things out with me. I always do in the end, don't I?
Friday, October 7, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
This was not the sort of evening I would've asked for a picked. Never. Never, never, never.
I currently feel like absolute shit for a couple of reasons. I didn't need just one more thing to tip the balance. I didn't need this.
I want to curl into a ball.
I will never do this again. Never. She can ask, and I will never say no. I'd rather miss out on something that could've been good than risk saying yes to this.
The rest, I will find another time to fix. But goddamn, I will fix it.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
As the world falls, falls away.
I love you, I suddenly realize again.
I'm taking a bath, crying over the tail-end of Portia de Rossi's Unbearable Lightness which, before I started it, had me almost afraid to read it. And I was afraid for all the right reasons, but that's another story.
Little things, like catching a glimpse of a sign saying "Thai salad" or passing by caps or shades or getting peeks into snippets of people's lives that make them so happy-
I think about you.
And I realize, I love you and I'm terribly in love with you.
I couldn't have ever dreamed up anyone half as amazing as the person you are.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Because I want to cry. Because I'm really sad. Because tonight went all wrong, and you always tell me how stupid I am. All the time.
And I know it was my fault. And you'll tell me I was a daft prick too.
I don't know.
You're always there when I'm sitting on my window ledge and crying
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
There was a conversation this afternoon that left me sort of a little bit sad. But I suppose there're just some things that will come by and I will not be able to do much else besides absolutely nothing.
I love you.
And a lot of times I wish that were the only thing that matters.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Her words catch me off guard, I'm smiling, but I feel like I'm about to cry too.
"Thank you. Am I really? How's that?" I reply, reaching for my bag in the back.
"I just, realize things sometimes. I want to watch you grow."
"I'm really lucky to have you," I say as I wave goodbye.
Some people have talked about an appeal to Emotion, an insincerity. How the proof is in the money they pay you, because it's the most tangible.
But it's not like that, not always. I understand fully, an appeal to emotion and some people being like that. I do know, but it doesn't always hold true.
Some people really are honest and good, some people really do just want the best for you.
The proof is in the pudding-
You'll see it in full clarity in the quality of production at these people's hands.
And if the proof is also in the money, then I have nothing to say because I've nothing to complain about.
Maybe you don't think so but everytime I think about it, I do think,
"Truly, I'm lucky to have her."
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
You are the girl that's been running around in my-
Head, I finally found you
I've been dreaming about you
You are the girl that's been running around in my dreams
I wish tonight didn't go the way it did. I wish it hadn't ended up like that. I wish I hadn't had to tell you what happened.
That being said I've been told countless times that there are just some things we can keep to ourselves, there are things the other doesn't need to know. I know this. I've kept things from people before, consciously and subconsciously. I'm not sure if I wish I was less honest with you, but I do wish being honest didn't always make me feel like this at the end of it.
I wish I could promise you that something like this won't ever happen again. I wish I could promise you to be hyper aware of my behaviour/vibes/WHATEVER so that I know exactly what I am or am not doing. Then I can promise not to ever behave as such and will not ever find myself in a situation of any kind.
I wish your words didn't hurt me as much as they did.
I wish my cab had crashed.
I wish this was easier on you.
I wish I wasn't crying myself to sleep. Because it's been a while since I've done that and I've never actually been a huge fan of it.
I wish you kissed me.
Correction, I wish I didn't wish so much that you'd kissed me tonight.
I wouldn't have either.
I'd actually been looking forward to tonight- both dinner (which went brilliantly) and after.
I said in this case, you can't just blame one person.
Because to be fair, I might've done something to perpetuate it and not even known. Also because people can, have, and often will shove people off, regardless, and I don't know how to do it like that.
I know you weren't mad at me. But some of the things you said stung. Wow. Like, ouch.
I am aware, of course, of how much cleaner she was/is and how I come with my own station wagon of things to deal with. But, wow.
Then again, you're not the first today. Not that I'm giving out prizes.
The best thing that could've happened to me on my way home, would have been for my cab driver to swing round the corner so wildly that he was unable to avoid the oncoming car crashing into us.
But dammit, I'm out of wishes today.
It's back to work tomorrow.
For once, I'm not all hopped up.
This will be an interesting week-
It's barely started and I already feel empty.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Reverse the roles and I'd want to walk down this path where you find out why, put things to words and understand yourself. Or try to.
But then, I find myself in these situations and I'm just.
I don't know. I don't even know.
I just don't like how it makes me feel in the morning.
And my mirror doesn't know what to say to me.
Sunday, September 11th 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I want you to meet him. You'd have liked him.
And he'd have loved you,
With your brown eyes and contagious laughter.
Wallaby Joe has moved homes. And the home he's in is nicer. He's happier where he is now, you can tell.
I want you to meet him.
But you're made up.
And you're not here.
I wonder if we get sad because we're already sad but we've been blocking it out.
Or because there's some kind of trigger, something that slights you, so you hang on to a more plausible reason to be sad.
To something that can tell you why you're falling apart from the inside out.
It starts off with a number. You begin writing about something, that shapes itself around something else. Your words do that because it knows you better than you, and you could've started writing about cat and dogs and squirrels and rabbits when actually all you wanted to talk about was that snail you passed on the pavement, on your way to the grocers', and how you didn't pick it up even though you always always pick up snails and put them back on the grass. And how, when you walked back the same way you'd found it was already dead. And how it made you stop and stare and not know what to do.
Then you're done with the poem and you look back and hardly know where it came from, even though, actually, honestly, some part of you does.
And you hate the honesty in it.
But you love the honesty in it.
Monday, September 5, 2011
This girl I hang out with a lot.
Personality. and brains.
I can't think, off the top of my head but here's one- finding statements on Formspring that go "pass this on" or "ask your followers". Does that even look like a question?! Sorry I sound so angsty.
A peanut! Then I can hurl myself at people who're allergic to me. More people seem allergic to peanuts as opposed to walnuts.
"They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever."
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
When you're in the shower, and shampooing, it kinda makes turns you into a shmuck.
And, you need to get over the fact that you will not have a kiss waiting for you when you hop outta the show.
This is retarded.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
And that she looks like she's been starved and needs to be fed.
Cutest, most adorable thing in the world!
Except, she straightened up for the picture and looked less orphan-like. I also asked her for big sad eyes, except she couldn't consciously do it):
So. If I ever need to apply for bursaries or financial help for the kids, we know who's gonna go down for the interviews(:
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Often, I'm happy where I am, and I can stay put. The problem comes with looking for what comes next.
Sometimes, I don't get people.
"I'm not the marrying sort, I don't think. I can't see myself in it." I'd say. And I get this look. This, 'Oh child, aren't you too young to make hasty decisions like that?' -type of look.
Or this, 'Now now, don't speak too early.'- type of look.
And then at some point, for whatever reason, I get to thinking,
"Hmm, maybe I could..." But oh, people people, don't hurt yourself as you make a break for it now.
Good God, what is it that people want? I seem to be at the perfect age to be answering these questions wrongly.
I'll just put things into perspective for myself though-
1) Do I want to get married right now?
Hell no. No, I don't. No. No.
2) Do I want to eventually?
Uh, honest to God, I really don't know. Not at this point. I'm definitely not saying that I won't ever. But it depends on a whole lot of things.
3) What about The Girlfriend?
I am very happy and I feel like I can do this for quite a while- living, being and being able to be, while with each other. We both do. But I don't know about anything else.
Sometimes, like today, I am randomly struck by our expiration date. We never said we'd be forever, and I like that we agree on things like that.
Maybe I wasn't prepared for your reply being that sharp. I suppose I'm just used to having responses like that come from me instead of the other round. So perhaps I'm a tad taken aback.
In regards to weddings and proposals and the patterns on our paper doilies, we'll leave that to Future Charis.
Because honest to God, I'm perfectly fine with what I've got right now.
I've got Bird.
And we're just thinking of Buttons and Timo being our witnesses.
I might not get to have kids, but we'll make do with the furry ones.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
"Oh so, who's Charis, where's she from?"
"Actually, she's my girlfriend."
"What? Really? But I couldn't tell!"
For some reason this has gotten me all interested, my first question to T being,
"You don't mind that it's like that do you? Cos I certainly don't!"
We're on the same page with that so(:
Which in itself is kind of funny. This conversation was sparked off by talking about certain boyfriend (or well, significant others) and how they behave with their girlfriends, so on and so forth. Because there are a good many who like to show off their girlfriends and there are girlfriends who like to be shown off. And I do think, when they find each other and float each other's boats, then it's all well and good.
We were talking about how we couldn't quite stand being perpetually wrapped around each other at parties or social gatherings and what-have-yous. We don't mind sitting with each other, but we generally like having conversations with other people.
Which brings me to what I find funny- that I am, and always have been, the very affectionate sort. And preeeetty open about it too. Even with people I'm not actually with, but am close to, which often makes for very confused on-lookers.
I think it's funny considering how affectionate I am that I am generally irked by having someone perpetually wrapped around me, or vice versa. Especially when we're hanging out with people and/or attending events or gatherings together.
I mean, for crying out loud, the world can SO tell you wanted me in the splash zone while you were peeing. Might as well do a little circle round me too. Ugh.
I mentioned how I'd hate for someone to go, "Oh I expect they're together because you sorta can't tell who's hand is whose."
This is not contact improv.
But in any case, they make for interesting watching every so often.
I guess I'm just glad that I don't get that. That I don't feel obliged to sit beside my girlfriend all the time. Or like, that if I walked away for a bit, she'd call me up looking for me. Or that if she walked off, she'd be upset if I didn't notice and didn't come looking for her.
It's not that we're hiding, or not open. It's just, you don't have to be wrapped up in each other all the time, you know?
So yeah, I thought it funny and actually liked that Steph couldn't tell we were together, and actually said she's never have known otherwise.
I quite like being able to move my own limbs about. And of course, I'll still sneak you peeled prawns and all the bits of pork that get piled onto my plate. And it's nice to reach for the other under the table and say, "Go home?" And climb into the car together after, and go home to being clean and snuggling up. Don't get me wrong, I like that very much.
But in the meantime, there's no need to pee on each other to keep everyone else away.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Girl, you're more than anything I could've ever dreamt of wanting.
I like the way this week's been looking, it's been pretty balanced I'd say. Balance is always nice.
I'm back from this morning's Volunteering and lunch with Engie.
I can't wait for this weekend. I could do with snuggling up and stealing good morning kisses.
The point is just to get back to it. Just, pick up where I left off. Focus on the shit that I want, even when it sounds painful.
After all, I've got the channels to it. Don't I?
Monday, August 22, 2011
Then, quietly, she starts praying. She doesn't have her hands clasped and her eyes aren't closed, but she's praying.
And she's saying that one line over, and over, and over again-
"Please let the next one hit me. Please."
In fact, out of all the things I'd hate for myself, being dependant comes in at the top.
So it scares me to ask-
Please tell me that I won't be left alone with me. Just this week. That I'm not falling apart as much as I think I already am.
Please tell me.
Because I've done it so long by myself, I don't know it I've got enough of me left anymore.
I think I need you.