poisonedgrace: (Default)
I don't even know where to start with this entry...

Friday, after work, I learned that...

1. My GF's ex GF passed away.
She was on a waiting list for a liver transplant (diabetes) and had health issues. Of course the total lack of health care for poor people in the US didn't help any.

2. My ex GF's GF was killed by the police.
Last Wednesday apparently. Austin police shot and killed her in south Austin. The identity of the victim was not released until Friday, so that's when I found out. I knew her. Not super well, but she was always nice and polite and funny. I liked her. She had spent time at my house. Hell, she had even come to family dinner at my mom's before. My brother had tattoo'd her. I just keep thinking about the day she bought a puppy in the Walmart parking lot, and I held the adorable sleeping thing in my palm for like 2 hours. I'm sure my ex is devastated. But she's so odd and emotionally... weird... that it's hard to tell. I reached out, and let her know that the family is here for her, but I doubt that I will hear much from her, because that's her way.




On Sunday, I drive my GF to Houston for the family gather / viewing thing or whatever for her ex.
Very emotional and strange experience. I don't really have words for it.

Didn't make it home until late, and back at work again early this morning.
Fueled by do-nuts and fruit punch.

I don't really know what to say outside of just putting up these very basic and very simple facts.
poisonedgrace: (Default)
Last night, I Dreamed.

Ní thuigim. Tá an iomarca. Mar sin féin tá sé tábhachtach.

Bhí mé sa teach. Thug mé cuairt anseo roimhe seo. Mar a shiúil mé tríd an spiorad conairí dorcha tháinig chugam.

Bhí sí beag agus bán. Bhí sí fuar. Shroich sí amach agus i dteagmháil léi dom. Sa domhan. Rugadh í.

Líonadh le saol. Bhí a fhios agam é. Bhí mé ag fanacht. Tá cónaí uirthi go deo. Mo inchinn agus mo chroí líonadh agus iomlán.

Bhí sí ina Cailleach Feasa. Bhí sí ina Bandia. Bhí sí mo bhean chéile. Bhí sí ag dul go dtí deireadh an domhain. Bhí mé ag dul chun cabhrú léi.

Ghlac mé léi i mo lámha. Mé tar éis fanacht céadta bliain. D'iarr mé uirthi cad a tharla ar chor ar bith. Dúirt sí go raibh sé in am. Anois, tá sé in am. Anois is féidir léi teacht abhaile. Anois is féidir liom eitilt.

An comhartha a tháinig. Ní fhéadfadh sí a pórú. Ní féidir liom pórú. Ach tháinig an draíocht. Mo leanbh taobh istigh.


Chuir sí chugam a bhogadh na nathracha as an mbosca draíochta. Eitil mé go dtí an barr. Rinne mé sé le feiceáil. D'oscail mé an bosca, agus na nathracha tháinig amach. Taobh istigh sa bhosca a bhí uirlisí feithimh.

Bheadh ​​gach duine a tháinig cabhrú deireadh an domhain. Le tine agus troid. De réir draíochta agus cruach. Leis an solas agus an dorchadas.

Thug mé na huirlisí.

Eitil mé sa spéir le mo Cailleach Feasa mo bhean chéile mo ghrá go deo.
Ba mhaith leis an domhan ar fad a stopadh.



And I woke up.
And my heart aches.
And I love you, forever and ever and ever, across all the worlds that ever were and ever shall be.
And I lie waiting, just waiting, for my time to come.
poisonedgrace: (Default)
It's funny...

There are those defining moments where you can literally feel, hear, and see something alter.
Like life comes equipped, in that moment, with some cinematic quality special effect.
I'm not sure I can even adequately describe it, but I've experienced it.

I remember the time that, in spite of my almost infinite patience with you, you deliberately destroyed, defiled, and defaced my art, while making a mockery of my values and ideals.  I knew that I would never again see you the same way.

I remember the time that, in spite of my almost infinite stupidity over you, you finally said something that blasted through all of my ideals, all of my memories, all of my hopes and fears, and I knew... absolutely knew, in the core of my being, that you were not, in any way, shape, or form, even remotely the same person whom I had given my time to.  I knew that I would never again see you the same way.

I remember the time that, in spite of my almost infinite curiosity and interest in you, you genuinely took me for a fool in a most unusual, blatant and thoroughly insulting manner.  You mistook my kindness and willingness to assist someone in a bad place as a cluelessness and weakness.  I know a drug deal when I see one, and after you attempted to play me for an idiot, I knew that I would never again see you the same way.

I remember the time that, in spite of my granting almost infinite allowances for things not being right, not with myself, nor with you, you, thought that hurting me, lying to me and repeating the same behaviour over and over was acceptable.  You thought that I was someone who casually throws around terms and concepts like "last chance".  You could have hurt me in any other way, and I would have kept taking it, but instead you hurt me over the same thing yet again.  In the many fall out conversations that we had there was a lot of talk about growth and healing.  I remember telling you right after that Last Chance that any possibility of any future growth would be contingent on that healing, and that any further intrusion of That Same Thing Yet Again would always be Death.  I remember when I predicted that it would come to pass.  I remember waiting to see.  I remember learning that my prediction was right.    I knew that I would never again see you the same way.

I remember the time that, in spite of my almost infinite youthful hope over you, you used any and all force you could muster to intimidate, manipulate, and brutalize a child.  You under appreciated my resourcefulness and inquisitiveness, and your story was revealed to me.  I remember my sense of frustration, insult and shame.   I knew that I would never again see you the same way.

Over all, I cant ever see realization, or awakening as a bad thing.
Once that click happens, and you see someone for not only 'who they are' but for 'what they are willing to do to you' there is a certain peace that accompanies it.

I'm sure if I really put my mind around it, I could come up with several more instances similar to this.
I even know of one right off of my head, but I've never actually spoken in quantifiable terms about The Topic, save to a very limited number of people irl, so that's not going to happen here.

But anyhow, this is just mental goo, flowing out of my brain into the toilet of my blog because it helps my sea level go down.
poisonedgrace: (Default)
I don't understand why people seem to take "I am dealing with a lot of depression right now" as some sort of invitation or a challenge to start a fight or some drama with you.

I guess maybe it makes people uncomfortable, and much like all the other apes, that causes them to lash out.

But that's some bullshit, yo. That is the last thing anyone needs and it seriously just makes it worse for everyone.

Sometimes a lot more soul wrackingly worse than they know.

But It really makes me remember the reasons for my long history of isolation and keeping it to myself.

"where there is always the comfort of knowing I'll never be seen when I fall"
poisonedgrace: (blurry - red)
I've been feeling 'under the weather' for a few days now.
Feeling depressed for about the same amount of time.

I am completely unsure which one is a symptom of the other.

Sometimes I feel like anything in my life that I manage to feel Hope over is part of some wild impossible fantasy, while all of the Really Real things which are actually based in the Reality of my life are... well... for lack of my brain having another word: Hopeless.

I split my time between thinking about how I want my life to be, and thinking about how my life actually is, and is likely to be from here on out.

I want some fantastical Faerie Pirate Adventure.  I want to not be broken and empty.  I want to be able to accept and cultivate... to nurture and grow.  I want to feel like I am able to be a part of something greater than myself.  I want something to feel like I can fight, and die for.  

Unfortunately, I don't know how to get there from here.  Where I actually am, is a far, far different place.  I expect that I will spend the rest of my life alone, quietly wanting things that can and will never happen... barely even being able to admit them 'out loud;, even to my own blog.  I will grow older and fatter and crazier.  I will likely just continue, forever, to hermit myself away and collect cats... or bats... maybe both if they can get along.  Twisting my hermit environment into some sad parody of the fantasies in my head, with most people around me sadly shaking their heads at my looming madness.  With the few people who 'get it' and actually care for me, kept forever at arms length because I am completely tormented and broken.  I will be always searching for impossible, unreal things.  Things and people who do not, can not, never have and never will even exist.

'They' (who the fuck ever 'they' are) always say that 'Time heals all wounds'  and whatever other variations of the same bullshit.  I am equal parts skeptical of this being true, and putting all of my faith and hope into the concept, because it may be my one salvation.  That's a trembling scary place to be.


Woke up this morning to a Sci-Fi Sunrise.  I tried to figure out which planet I was on all the way to work.
This.  This is forever.  Nothing times noting, carry the nothing...
Esta Invitado.

And it doesn't matter how YOU see things, or what YOU think.  That is YOUR reality.  It is not any more or any less real than MINE is to me.  You, wasting all your time trying to convince me that 'things are not this way' is just as useless as me wasting my time trying to convince you that they are this way.




poisonedgrace: (lain)
Even when Especially when I don't try to...

Last night I dreamed of a girl who liked me.  Needless to say, she was totally imaginary.  Not anyone (or even like anyone) that I know in this world.  First off, she liked me, which is rare and amazing enough as-is.  Second, she wasn't Violent, Mean, Challenged, Homeless, Needy, Married, Fake, Scheming, In a relationship with someone else, living 1000 miles away, or looking to be saved in any way.  She actually liked me for ME.  Not as a distraction, as a bonus, as an addition, as a tool or as leverage, not because she thought she could get something, not because she was just horny, or because she was bored.  But really for me.

Now I'm not saying that such a thing hasn't happened before, but it seems that on the (much more) rare occasion that it does, it is coupled with at least one of those other things.  Which makes it seem that the actual liking of me is sort of just a 'bonus' to whatever the other issue is, and not the heart of it in and of itself.  Maybe, of course, that's just my perception, and I let the other 'details' overshadow it, but that is just who and where I am with life, based on where I have been and the things that have happened to lead me here.  I recognize that the entire thing may rest within my point of view, but that's all that reality is, is point of view, so that doesn't change anything, except for the fact that I note it, and I don't blame anyone for any of it.

But at any rate.  We were at some weird place with a lot of people.  It was sort of like a store / museum / space ship / studio / laboratory / warehouse / place.  I can't even begin to quantify it.  But there were a lot of people around, and of course, I was sitting by myself, keeping to myself.  I think I was trying to read a book.

This girl came and started talking to me, and we hit it off amazingly well, immediately.  It was like we had been friends forever.  In this place, time was all goofy, so after a little while it was like we had been there for years.  There was some trouble with some of the other people in there somehow, and she stood up for me.  But she didn't do it in that way that women usually have in the past...  A way where it just makes things worse.  I don't know words to describe it, but typically in these situations, someone does something mean / stupid / jerkful / whatever, and by way of 'standing up for me' what actually happens is that a GF or whatever would get into shit with this person, thinking they are defending me, but in reality, all they are doing is escalating the situation to a point where I have to then step in and defend them, thus almost ensuring a physical confrontation over something that I could have likely ignored had it just been left alone to start with.  Anyhow, this was somehow done where it didn't make things worse.  Maybe that's only possible in dreams, I don't know.

Anyhow, I don't remember a whole lot of it other than feelings and images and stuff.

Woke up with a heartache.  Reality is bad enough.  At least there I can hole up in my cave and hide myself away from the world.  I can cement my heart and make it strong and resistant to letting anything close to it and make my peace with being alone from now on.  I don't have the degree of control over that Other Life, that Dreaming in order to stop these things from happening.  And it's real enough in those moments to exist just as truly and fully as anything in this world does now.  If it's different for you, then you don't dream like I dream.

So today is a broken heart day for something that I never had to start with, yet lost all the same.  Someone that does not even exist in this world, and I will likely never see again in that world.  Yet my brain and heart feel the loss all the same.

Sometimes I wish I could either never sleep, or never wake up.

poisonedgrace: (lucy)
To Whom It May Concern,

         You'd be better off avoiding me.  I bring nothing but strife, woe and heartache to everything I touch.
I'm never going to be anything that anyone ever wants me to be.  I am a sum total of every failed thing I have ever attempted to do or be.
An algorithm of all the let downs, all the abuses, all the terrible things I've been through.  I tr to make the best of it. 
I try to use it to fuel strength, but I can't pretend that I'm not affected, negatively (read as 'broken') in some ways.  I'm sick of being 'sorry' for how I am.  I didn't choose any of it, and I cope, overcome, and process it all as best as I can.  It took a lifetime for me to get this way, and I don't know when or IF it will 'get better'.  Nothing is worse than a lifetime of letting people down, no matter how much you give or how hard you try. 
There is always 'just one more thing' that everyone wants / needs, and that 'one more thing', whatever it might be, comes right beyond your absolute limit, no matter how far you spread yourself trying to make it all work.

It's enough to really make it all feel pointless some days.

I'm the sort of person where I never give up, but when you're beaten far too many times, the only fuel that keeps you running on a long enough time frame is Hate.  You can only manage to carry on by surrounding yourself in an armour of isolation and avoidance.  It;s like scar tissue and just gets thicker and thicker the longer you go.

No matter how much your brain screams "Do Not Want" and "This Is Not ME", Coping and Survival do as they must to make the machine keep functioning.

Are you part of the soloution, or part of the problem?

Thanks for listening,
XXX
poisonedgrace: (</3)
I'm here before you today with a heavy heart.  Not for myself, but for the world.  It seems like every time I am near an outlet for television or internet, I am hearing ANOTHER story of someone killing themselves because of the world we live in.  Either from being bullied, or oppressed or just damned fed up with the world and all the filth and injustice in it.

Lately, it's been a whole lot of gay/lesbian/bi/trans kids.  I think we're averaging more than one per week for the past month or so.

I wish there was an easy answer.  I wish there was something I could do or say to make it all better, or to give you hope.

I can't tell you that it will all be better eventually.  It might not.  I can't tell you that 'eventually' there will be justice and equality.  I would love to think that there will be, but we've made it this far with out, so who is to say?  I really wish that I could tell you that all the bullies, assholes and narrow-minded pieces of crap out in the world will eventually get what they deserve, but that would probably be a lie.

What I CAN tell you is that everything is temporary.  Bad times, hurt, pain, indignation...  They all fade & dull with time.  Just like smiles, laughter and joy fade.  Life is filled with cycles that way.  Whatever you're going through is temporary, because it WILL shift one way or another, sooner or later.  Even when things are bad, there is still a lot of good out there.  A lot of beauty in the world.

One other thing I can tell you...  We NEED you here.  It's as simple as that.  Please don't go.  We need you.  You are important.  You are beautiful.  There are people who accept you, just the way you are, I promise. 

A little while from now, you will have some choices.  You can choose a better place to live.  You can choose new friends, even a new family, if you need one.  Just by being yourselves and being defiant in who and what you are, you are slowly changing the world.  I know sometimes it hurts and it seems tragically slow and like you can't possibly matter.  But that's where you're wrong.

We need each and every one of you.  Live in defiance.  If you don't have anything else, Live for the spite of living.  Live because the jerks who torment you hate to see you live.  Living is a way to defeat them.  Every time one of you falls, it's a victory for hate and oppression.  A victory for the evil people who taunt, tease and belittle you.  Every time it happens, you know that these ignorant, evil, vile and hateful people get together and laugh.  Your death doesn't solve anything.  It gives them more power. 

Instead of helping them, rob them of power.  Don't give them any victories.  None.  The best thing you can do is keep going and stay vocal and look after one another.  All of us who are opposed to this avalanche of evil bullshit... we ALL have to look after one another.  We have to stay friends.  We have to be family.  We have to help, support and carry one another until we win.  We have to hold one another up and dry each others eyes and keep going.

It is the hardest thing, sometimes, to keep going.  You feel like every single breath is crushing you with the weight of this filthy and unfair world we're stuck in.  Don't let it stop you though.  Let it fuel you.  Get mad.  Find one another, even if it's "just" online... Find one another and hang on tight.  Be there for the ones who are on the edge. 

We can all stick together and look out for one another.  I am not ever going to sit around quietly and watch someone be bullied or abused.  I have been there far too many times in my life to have any tolerance for it.  When enough people live a life where that sort of behavior is completely unacceptable, it will recede.  The more we are robbed of our numbers, the longer that takes.  If you so truly feel that you have nothing to live for, to the point that you are going to end your own life, then instead of ending it, give it over fully to the things you believe in.  You can die any day, it'll happen eventually, no matter what.  So don't rush it.  Use the time you have between now and then to make a difference.  Even if you only make a difference for one person, in your whole life, that is worth it.  If that one person makes a difference for one other person, then that's two whom you've changed things for.  Think of how swiftly that can spread into a huge number.  You can't do this work, you can't change things if you aren't here.  This is why we need you here so very badly.

The world is working hard to defeat us all and the very last thing we can afford is to help them do it.  So don't give in.  Each and every one of you is a bright light in the darkness to someone else out there who also has it rough.  If we have too many lights go out, we will all be lost in the darkness.
poisonedgrace: (</3)
I'm here before you today with a heavy heart.  Not for myself, but for the world.  It seems like every time I am near an outlet for television or internet, I am hearing ANOTHER story of someone killing themselves because of the world we live in.  Either from being bullied, or oppressed or just damned fed up with the world and all the filth and injustice in it.

Lately, it's been a whole lot of gay/lesbian/bi/trans kids.  I think we're averaging more than one per week for the past month or so.

I wish there was an easy answer.  I wish there was something I could do or say to make it all better, or to give you hope.

I can't tell you that it will all be better eventually.  It might not.  I can't tell you that 'eventually' there will be justice and equality.  I would love to think that there will be, but we've made it this far with out, so who is to say?  I really wish that I could tell you that all the bullies, assholes and narrow-minded pieces of crap out in the world will eventually get what they deserve, but that would probably be a lie.

What I CAN tell you is that everything is temporary.  Bad times, hurt, pain, indignation...  They all fade & dull with time.  Just like smiles, laughter and joy fade.  Life is filled with cycles that way.  Whatever you're going through is temporary, because it WILL shift one way or another, sooner or later.  Even when things are bad, there is still a lot of good out there.  A lot of beauty in the world.

One other thing I can tell you...  We NEED you here.  It's as simple as that.  Please don't go.  We need you.  You are important.  You are beautiful.  There are people who accept you, just the way you are, I promise. 

A little while from now, you will have some choices.  You can choose a better place to live.  You can choose new friends, even a new family, if you need one.  Just by being yourselves and being defiant in who and what you are, you are slowly changing the world.  I know sometimes it hurts and it seems tragically slow and like you can't possibly matter.  But that's where you're wrong.

We need each and every one of you.  Live in defiance.  If you don't have anything else, Live for the spite of living.  Live because the jerks who torment you hate to see you live.  Living is a way to defeat them.  Every time one of you falls, it's a victory for hate and oppression.  A victory for the evil people who taunt, tease and belittle you.  Every time it happens, you know that these ignorant, evil, vile and hateful people get together and laugh.  Your death doesn't solve anything.  It gives them more power. 

Instead of helping them, rob them of power.  Don't give them any victories.  None.  The best thing you can do is keep going and stay vocal and look after one another.  All of us who are opposed to this avalanche of evil bullshit... we ALL have to look after one another.  We have to stay friends.  We have to be family.  We have to help, support and carry one another until we win.  We have to hold one another up and dry each others eyes and keep going.

It is the hardest thing, sometimes, to keep going.  You feel like every single breath is crushing you with the weight of this filthy and unfair world we're stuck in.  Don't let it stop you though.  Let it fuel you.  Get mad.  Find one another, even if it's "just" online... Find one another and hang on tight.  Be there for the ones who are on the edge. 

We can all stick together and look out for one another.  I am not ever going to sit around quietly and watch someone be bullied or abused.  I have been there far too many times in my life to have any tolerance for it.  When enough people live a life where that sort of behavior is completely unacceptable, it will recede.  The more we are robbed of our numbers, the longer that takes.  If you so truly feel that you have nothing to live for, to the point that you are going to end your own life, then instead of ending it, give it over fully to the things you believe in.  You can die any day, it'll happen eventually, no matter what.  So don't rush it.  Use the time you have between now and then to make a difference.  Even if you only make a difference for one person, in your whole life, that is worth it.  If that one person makes a difference for one other person, then that's two whom you've changed things for.  Think of how swiftly that can spread into a huge number.  You can't do this work, you can't change things if you aren't here.  This is why we need you here so very badly.

The world is working hard to defeat us all and the very last thing we can afford is to help them do it.  So don't give in.  Each and every one of you is a bright light in the darkness to someone else out there who also has it rough.  If we have too many lights go out, we will all be lost in the darkness.

Rapture

Mar. 24th, 2010 10:55 am
poisonedgrace: (Default)
-


Balancing along with a life filled with Rezső Seress moments.  There is no system of checks and balances.  There is a point where any person, sane or otherwise, but especially sane, must take pause and reflect on the inherent value of the entire composition.  Besieged by loss and cruelty and faithlessness.  Bitterness, woe and malcontent.  Constantly under fire by the destroyers, by the cruel, the avaricious and the hateful.  Trying to make good and conscionable choices for ones self and for ones interactions with those around you.  Attempting, endlessly to support and aid those you can so that you might facilitate some small ripple of positive change in the world.
Above all else, Enduring, Endlessly, all of this with a dignity, grace, patience and proper bearing.

And for what?
So that you might be eternally and universally shat upon at every possible opportunity?  So that you might be neglected, frowned upon, and judged as weak?  In fact, it takes an almost inextinguishable wealth of strength to live this way.  Of course rewards are not sought, but how many times can one be bitten by the mouth one is feeding before Doubt is inevitable?  How much can one poor soul endure?  It seems as though some vast and hideous scientific experiment on the durability of kindness and propriety is underway where being besieged on all sides by the vile, the malignant, the horrid and the witless, where being tormented by the thoughtless, the careless, the domineering, and the vile are commonplace. 

This is what humanity has chosen?  This is the world that has been crafted for us to dwell in?  What then, precisely, is there to stay here for?  The one or two (perhaps dozen, if you are incredibly fortunate) who have not yet turned on you?  Ticking time bombs, all.  And of those, how many are true?  How many are more than base acquaintances?  How many more than that are villains who have simply not yet sprouted ganged mouths?  How many of the genuinely solid and noble ones (assuming you have not yet weeded them all out already) how many of those are simple savages who follow naught but whim, and whose whim may disalign from yours at the drop of nary a word, and suddenly they should spring athwart across you and shove you over the tottering precipice?

Where does one turn when that reservoir of patience, strength and hope has cracked under the gale storms of this world?
There is no safety net.  No second ending to prevent the people from being disturbed.  No one to step in and save someone of this nature, because they've all come to rely on being the saved and take it for granted.  What choices are left when this storm breaks?  When the end of this metaphorical rope is reached?  What then?  What when every breath draws in a misery and loneliness that deadens the heart beat by beat into a painful burning stone?  At what point is one allowed the choice of power over ones own life rather than persisting to exist solely for the sake of not causing misery to those around him?

What do we have left, and what do we do with it?  How are endless burdens to be borne throughout all of ones life?  At what point does 'stupid' and 'crazy' and 'wrong' become oh so very right as well as being the very last and sole remaining choice that even resemble the concept of dignity? 

Life is love, trust and hope. What do you have when these have been abused and assaulted to have become mangled beyond all recognition or repair?


"Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless
Dearest the shadows
I live with are
numberless

Little white flowers
Will never awaken you
Not where the black coach of
Sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thoughts
Of ever returning you

Would they be angry
If I thought of joining you?

Gloomy
is Sunday,
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and I
Have decided to end it all

Soon there'll be candles
And prayers that are said I know
But let them not weep
Let them know that I'm glad to go
Death is no dream
For in death I'm caressin' you
With the last breath of my soul
I'll be blessin' you"

Rapture

Mar. 24th, 2010 10:55 am
poisonedgrace: (Default)
-


Balancing along with a life filled with Rezső Seress moments.  There is no system of checks and balances.  There is a point where any person, sane or otherwise, but especially sane, must take pause and reflect on the inherent value of the entire composition.  Besieged by loss and cruelty and faithlessness.  Bitterness, woe and malcontent.  Constantly under fire by the destroyers, by the cruel, the avaricious and the hateful.  Trying to make good and conscionable choices for ones self and for ones interactions with those around you.  Attempting, endlessly to support and aid those you can so that you might facilitate some small ripple of positive change in the world.
Above all else, Enduring, Endlessly, all of this with a dignity, grace, patience and proper bearing.

And for what?
So that you might be eternally and universally shat upon at every possible opportunity?  So that you might be neglected, frowned upon, and judged as weak?  In fact, it takes an almost inextinguishable wealth of strength to live this way.  Of course rewards are not sought, but how many times can one be bitten by the mouth one is feeding before Doubt is inevitable?  How much can one poor soul endure?  It seems as though some vast and hideous scientific experiment on the durability of kindness and propriety is underway where being besieged on all sides by the vile, the malignant, the horrid and the witless, where being tormented by the thoughtless, the careless, the domineering, and the vile are commonplace. 

This is what humanity has chosen?  This is the world that has been crafted for us to dwell in?  What then, precisely, is there to stay here for?  The one or two (perhaps dozen, if you are incredibly fortunate) who have not yet turned on you?  Ticking time bombs, all.  And of those, how many are true?  How many are more than base acquaintances?  How many more than that are villains who have simply not yet sprouted ganged mouths?  How many of the genuinely solid and noble ones (assuming you have not yet weeded them all out already) how many of those are simple savages who follow naught but whim, and whose whim may disalign from yours at the drop of nary a word, and suddenly they should spring athwart across you and shove you over the tottering precipice?

Where does one turn when that reservoir of patience, strength and hope has cracked under the gale storms of this world?
There is no safety net.  No second ending to prevent the people from being disturbed.  No one to step in and save someone of this nature, because they've all come to rely on being the saved and take it for granted.  What choices are left when this storm breaks?  When the end of this metaphorical rope is reached?  What then?  What when every breath draws in a misery and loneliness that deadens the heart beat by beat into a painful burning stone?  At what point is one allowed the choice of power over ones own life rather than persisting to exist solely for the sake of not causing misery to those around him?

What do we have left, and what do we do with it?  How are endless burdens to be borne throughout all of ones life?  At what point does 'stupid' and 'crazy' and 'wrong' become oh so very right as well as being the very last and sole remaining choice that even resemble the concept of dignity? 

Life is love, trust and hope. What do you have when these have been abused and assaulted to have become mangled beyond all recognition or repair?


"Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless
Dearest the shadows
I live with are
numberless

Little white flowers
Will never awaken you
Not where the black coach of
Sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thoughts
Of ever returning you

Would they be angry
If I thought of joining you?

Gloomy
is Sunday,
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and I
Have decided to end it all

Soon there'll be candles
And prayers that are said I know
But let them not weep
Let them know that I'm glad to go
Death is no dream
For in death I'm caressin' you
With the last breath of my soul
I'll be blessin' you"

poisonedgrace: (lucy)

Just because I don't like it, and I choose not to does not mean that I can't.  I can never be completely comfortable with it, so I usually just turn the squelch up to eleven.  Maybe it's not as bad as I think it is (although, honestly, my opinion is the only one what matters, seeing as how I'm not in it for the money, or to appease anyone).  Maybe I should make more of an effort to just accept that sometimes that's how the format works?  I don't know, it just makes me feel really... cheesy?  Or something.  But there is that one...  With the angels...  It still bothers me to this day, demanding to be finished, even though it's subject matter is Brachiosaurus.  It could be a matter of familiarity, but I'm generally not opposed to 'something new'.  Quite the opposite.  Maybe it's a matter of comparrison, and I see so much fail involved, and I hate feeling any way linked to them and/or 'tradition'.

Maybe I should just Shut Up and do what it says.

___

Forlorn and wayward
you wrap yourself in red.
The monsters that you battle
are all inside your head.

Time spent with you does
nothing but draw flies.
I'll consume your ugly truth,
but I'll never eat your lies.

Life is what you make it,
why make it a dead end?
I wonder if you killed yourself,
or if you just pretend.

All you have to relate is
how you sit and sweetly cry.
I'll take all your ugly truth,
but damn your pretty lies.


Maybe it's this time of year, that brings your cold to me.
Maybe I'm bad at things when there's no 'closure', and no hope for it.
Hell's Bells.  This sure as shit wasn't supposed to be about YOU.
It's just what poured out, and I don't know what to blame it on other than the calender.

Why the fuck do you have to be dead, you stupid fucker?
I loved you :(

Of course, after what came, came...
Ugh.  You frustrate me so bad.  Why did you have to be so fucking full of shit?
I really liked you just because of you.  You didn't have to be so phony.

After this started coming out today I made the mistake of looking over your profile(s).  There's a facebook deditated to your memory now.  Has a big R.I.P. and everything on it.  You would laugh your ass off.
I saw some comments elsewhere made by the girl you were so desperately in love with.

You really truly broke her heart, in a bad way.
Maybe you ment to.  Maybe she broke yours first?  Or maybe you were so fucking carelessly impulsive that you didn't even stop to think.  Maybe you just swallowed that bullet for shits and giggles, to see if you were bulletproof or not.  You're an asshole.  But I miss you.  You make my heart hurt.

I really truly wish you hadn't decided to be such a jerk the last few times we talked.
I wish that my 'giving you space' and 'waiting for you to do the right thing' hadn't lengthened into such a long stand-off. 
I wish I could see you one last time.  Give you a hug.  Climb a tree and just... sit, like old times.  Talking late into the night.  I wish I could tell you how I felt.  I wish it would make any difference if it were to happen.  But I know better.  At least it all taught me...  Taught me to LIVE.  Taught me to not leave things unsaid.  Any of us... we could lost anyone or everyone at any fucking moment.  Who do you wanna lose, with things forever unsaid?

I wish you had known that, instead of teaching it to me with your suicide.

I could wish a million things, but none of it's ever gonna change anything, is it?


poisonedgrace: (lucy)

Just because I don't like it, and I choose not to does not mean that I can't.  I can never be completely comfortable with it, so I usually just turn the squelch up to eleven.  Maybe it's not as bad as I think it is (although, honestly, my opinion is the only one what matters, seeing as how I'm not in it for the money, or to appease anyone).  Maybe I should make more of an effort to just accept that sometimes that's how the format works?  I don't know, it just makes me feel really... cheesy?  Or something.  But there is that one...  With the angels...  It still bothers me to this day, demanding to be finished, even though it's subject matter is Brachiosaurus.  It could be a matter of familiarity, but I'm generally not opposed to 'something new'.  Quite the opposite.  Maybe it's a matter of comparrison, and I see so much fail involved, and I hate feeling any way linked to them and/or 'tradition'.

Maybe I should just Shut Up and do what it says.

___

Forlorn and wayward
you wrap yourself in red.
The monsters that you battle
are all inside your head.

Time spent with you does
nothing but draw flies.
I'll consume your ugly truth,
but I'll never eat your lies.

Life is what you make it,
why make it a dead end?
I wonder if you killed yourself,
or if you just pretend.

All you have to relate is
how you sit and sweetly cry.
I'll take all your ugly truth,
but damn your pretty lies.


Maybe it's this time of year, that brings your cold to me.
Maybe I'm bad at things when there's no 'closure', and no hope for it.
Hell's Bells.  This sure as shit wasn't supposed to be about YOU.
It's just what poured out, and I don't know what to blame it on other than the calender.

Why the fuck do you have to be dead, you stupid fucker?
I loved you :(

Of course, after what came, came...
Ugh.  You frustrate me so bad.  Why did you have to be so fucking full of shit?
I really liked you just because of you.  You didn't have to be so phony.

After this started coming out today I made the mistake of looking over your profile(s).  There's a facebook deditated to your memory now.  Has a big R.I.P. and everything on it.  You would laugh your ass off.
I saw some comments elsewhere made by the girl you were so desperately in love with.

You really truly broke her heart, in a bad way.
Maybe you ment to.  Maybe she broke yours first?  Or maybe you were so fucking carelessly impulsive that you didn't even stop to think.  Maybe you just swallowed that bullet for shits and giggles, to see if you were bulletproof or not.  You're an asshole.  But I miss you.  You make my heart hurt.

I really truly wish you hadn't decided to be such a jerk the last few times we talked.
I wish that my 'giving you space' and 'waiting for you to do the right thing' hadn't lengthened into such a long stand-off. 
I wish I could see you one last time.  Give you a hug.  Climb a tree and just... sit, like old times.  Talking late into the night.  I wish I could tell you how I felt.  I wish it would make any difference if it were to happen.  But I know better.  At least it all taught me...  Taught me to LIVE.  Taught me to not leave things unsaid.  Any of us... we could lost anyone or everyone at any fucking moment.  Who do you wanna lose, with things forever unsaid?

I wish you had known that, instead of teaching it to me with your suicide.

I could wish a million things, but none of it's ever gonna change anything, is it?


poisonedgrace: (</3)
   I... This has been an odd entry to try to write.  I've been trying this one for the better part of a week now I guess.
I feel equal parts lost, found, insane, and like a complete jackass.  Because of the way my head works, I can't even say much about it really.   I... found something.  A treasure.  An amazing and wonderful exotic treasure.  However, I found it Post Mortem.  Years too late.  There's not even anything there, only words.  But what am I? Only words as well.

I found a collection of poetry... Written by a Dead Girl.
After she died (I do not know the details, she was in her 20s from what I can gather, and had a 'tragedy') her friends made a memorial site and put up a lot of her work.  English is not their first language, so some of the details are sketchy.  She was a very good writer.  I identified deeply with a lot of what she had to say, a lot of what she was feeling.  That kind of synergy that makes you tingle and feel electricity all the way down to your very cells and makes whatever passes for a soul tingle and writhe.  That doesn't happen to me very often.  

Even her stuff that wasn't super emotional, or didn't resonate with me like God tonguing your skull sockets was still very well written.  I don't think that often about modern poets / poetry.  Most styles popular these days do not suit me.  

Here she is, dead and gone.  I did not know her.  I will never know her.  I searched the net as best I could, and could not find out much more about her at all.  Well, really, not anything more.  I have her name, her date of death, and a small bit of info about her life in a country I will never visit.  I will never see a picture of her.  But... somehow, she's very important to me.

It's all so stupid and romantic and.... completely retarded but I can't help it.  Can someone this distant to you in every sense of the word actually change anything for you?  Can they break your heart?

I wonder if she had known how much her words could affect another person, if her 'tragedy' could have been avoided?  (No, there was absolutely nothing to support any notion of her being a suicide, but usually when that's the case, they don't say. I mean you'll see a memorial like "Sally died of cancer" or "Lucy was killed in an auto accident" but usually when they just say "tragedy" well, it means something, you know?)

I've been wanting to... NEEDING to type about this for days and days now, it's been driving me crazy, but I don't even really know what to say, you know?  I wonder how many people have ever felt that about my words... If anyone ever has.  I wonder how many people have found solace in the pages of this blog, or have felt a little less alone.  I wonder if I've touched any lives.  I wonder if once I meet my end, if anyone will come here and say "Goddamn, I wish I would have had an opportunity to talk with Branden before his cancer/stabbing/car-crash/suicide/labotomy/starvation/industrial-accident/crucifixion/death-of-old-age/summons-home, because this shit really means something to me, and as long as someone is around to communicate these things, then each of us can be less alone while we struggle on the outside."

I tracked down an email for one of her friends who seemed to be the ringleader of posting her stuff, and it got returned because the email adr is no good any more.  It's all a dead end, which is somehow even more poetic and romantically fitting.

I'll pre-emptively answer a couple of questions, and make a point clear.

I found her because sometimes I'll get words stuck in my head.  When it happens, I'll google them in quotations.  For example, search for the phrase "poise and grace gone wrong" you get me.  That is a string of words I got stuck in my head many long years ago.  It's become my flagship.  My head swirls with words and colours and arrangements of text and verse.  I don't always know where it comes from, so sometimes I have to look and see.  Usually I get nothing because it comes from inside my head.  Sometimes I find out it's a small piece of The Bible or Shakespeare or Baudelaire or Milton that got left in my head and twisted into a new creature.  I was searching some brain text, and they were my words, I had heard them from no other.  The only return was the site... with HER words.  

We made the same words, worlds apart, years apart, never knowing.

That has never happened before, so I started looking into her words.  That's how I ended up here. 
That answers how I found her, and how it started.

The biggest question you'll all want to ask is "Link?"
"What is the site?  Who is it?  We want to see!"
My answer is: "No."

I am not willing to share.  Not now, maybe not ever.
I can not explain why, I don't even know why.  Maybe I'm just not ready to let go yet.  Maybe it's MY secret, and you can get your own  I don't know.  But I'm not telling, so don't ask.  Not here, not via email or IM, not in person.  It's mine.  I'm sorry, but at the same time, I'm not sorry at all.  

This post is getting so long that it's gonna get the TLDR already.  I could write four times this and still be swirling.
So, for now, I'll go.

Maybe Angels are where we find them, even inside of our Demons, and I hope that whatever she found, she's resting well.
poisonedgrace: (</3)
   I... This has been an odd entry to try to write.  I've been trying this one for the better part of a week now I guess.
I feel equal parts lost, found, insane, and like a complete jackass.  Because of the way my head works, I can't even say much about it really.   I... found something.  A treasure.  An amazing and wonderful exotic treasure.  However, I found it Post Mortem.  Years too late.  There's not even anything there, only words.  But what am I? Only words as well.

I found a collection of poetry... Written by a Dead Girl.
After she died (I do not know the details, she was in her 20s from what I can gather, and had a 'tragedy') her friends made a memorial site and put up a lot of her work.  English is not their first language, so some of the details are sketchy.  She was a very good writer.  I identified deeply with a lot of what she had to say, a lot of what she was feeling.  That kind of synergy that makes you tingle and feel electricity all the way down to your very cells and makes whatever passes for a soul tingle and writhe.  That doesn't happen to me very often.  

Even her stuff that wasn't super emotional, or didn't resonate with me like God tonguing your skull sockets was still very well written.  I don't think that often about modern poets / poetry.  Most styles popular these days do not suit me.  

Here she is, dead and gone.  I did not know her.  I will never know her.  I searched the net as best I could, and could not find out much more about her at all.  Well, really, not anything more.  I have her name, her date of death, and a small bit of info about her life in a country I will never visit.  I will never see a picture of her.  But... somehow, she's very important to me.

It's all so stupid and romantic and.... completely retarded but I can't help it.  Can someone this distant to you in every sense of the word actually change anything for you?  Can they break your heart?

I wonder if she had known how much her words could affect another person, if her 'tragedy' could have been avoided?  (No, there was absolutely nothing to support any notion of her being a suicide, but usually when that's the case, they don't say. I mean you'll see a memorial like "Sally died of cancer" or "Lucy was killed in an auto accident" but usually when they just say "tragedy" well, it means something, you know?)

I've been wanting to... NEEDING to type about this for days and days now, it's been driving me crazy, but I don't even really know what to say, you know?  I wonder how many people have ever felt that about my words... If anyone ever has.  I wonder how many people have found solace in the pages of this blog, or have felt a little less alone.  I wonder if I've touched any lives.  I wonder if once I meet my end, if anyone will come here and say "Goddamn, I wish I would have had an opportunity to talk with Branden before his cancer/stabbing/car-crash/suicide/labotomy/starvation/industrial-accident/crucifixion/death-of-old-age/summons-home, because this shit really means something to me, and as long as someone is around to communicate these things, then each of us can be less alone while we struggle on the outside."

I tracked down an email for one of her friends who seemed to be the ringleader of posting her stuff, and it got returned because the email adr is no good any more.  It's all a dead end, which is somehow even more poetic and romantically fitting.

I'll pre-emptively answer a couple of questions, and make a point clear.

I found her because sometimes I'll get words stuck in my head.  When it happens, I'll google them in quotations.  For example, search for the phrase "poise and grace gone wrong" you get me.  That is a string of words I got stuck in my head many long years ago.  It's become my flagship.  My head swirls with words and colours and arrangements of text and verse.  I don't always know where it comes from, so sometimes I have to look and see.  Usually I get nothing because it comes from inside my head.  Sometimes I find out it's a small piece of The Bible or Shakespeare or Baudelaire or Milton that got left in my head and twisted into a new creature.  I was searching some brain text, and they were my words, I had heard them from no other.  The only return was the site... with HER words.  

We made the same words, worlds apart, years apart, never knowing.

That has never happened before, so I started looking into her words.  That's how I ended up here. 
That answers how I found her, and how it started.

The biggest question you'll all want to ask is "Link?"
"What is the site?  Who is it?  We want to see!"
My answer is: "No."

I am not willing to share.  Not now, maybe not ever.
I can not explain why, I don't even know why.  Maybe I'm just not ready to let go yet.  Maybe it's MY secret, and you can get your own  I don't know.  But I'm not telling, so don't ask.  Not here, not via email or IM, not in person.  It's mine.  I'm sorry, but at the same time, I'm not sorry at all.  

This post is getting so long that it's gonna get the TLDR already.  I could write four times this and still be swirling.
So, for now, I'll go.

Maybe Angels are where we find them, even inside of our Demons, and I hope that whatever she found, she's resting well.
poisonedgrace: (purple and teal)

      I've felt a great silence settling on me lately.
I guess that's apparent from the sparse updates.  Even the ones there have been are just spartan at best.
It really is true, that we're always learning.  About ourselves, about life.  Learning how it all fits together.

I'm always thinking.  Thinking too much.  About everything, everyone, you, and the other.  I wasn't able to identify some of my wellspring of frustration I've had recently (I get it from time to time. We all do).  Then, I realized something.  For a good long time now, it's been really hard for me to trust anyone.  I have always been far too trusting, my whole life.  Of course, more often than not, that gets you burned in a variety of ways.  That never stopped me.  More recently, however (within the last 3 years) I think there's finally been some damage done.  It wasn't just you.  It was a few people who added to the situation.  I didn't even realize that I haven't been able to really trust people until earlier today when it clicked.  That cartoon lightbulb turning on inside my head.

It explains a lot.  It explains why I keep myself so distant from you.  It explains why I keep myself so distant from everything.  'Alone in a crowd...'  It's not fair.  Not to me.  Not to any of you.  Most especially not to you.  In all of this...  All of it, you alone, remain blameless.  Yet, you receive one of the worse ends of the deal.  Maybe we're tied for it.  Neck and neck.   Shame it's a tragedy, and there's no good prize at the end.  It's not that I blame you for what everyone else has done.  Normally, I don't even blame them (factoring in certain variables, of course).  

It's just... I realize that I'm working with a lot of scar tissue here.  I don't like it.  Being this way I mean.  Like most everything in life I'm sure that realizing it is the first step to coping with it, so it's good to sift these things and turn something up in the pan, even if it is you know... a severed ear instead of gold.  

I guess this is why I am doing better lately keeping things surface.  If I keep away from the deepest pools, then it doesn't tear me apart.  That's what it was doing, back before.  Every day, tearing me apart.  I want something there, but I can't trust that deeply.  Not being able to trust deeply enough to have something there made me feel guilty.  It was an abysmal cycle.  Made me feel like I could never be happy, but I didn't know why.  Now I finally know why.  I still don't know what it will take (time? practice? trial and error?) for me to feel like I can trust someone on that level again.  I guess you can't find the cure until you know the problem though, huh?

Through this all, so many things keep breaking my heart.  Usually in a good way.  If that even makes any sense.

It seems like too many people misread me.  Misunderstand me.  If you think this is pointed at you... well... one of you is thinking that because you're a fucking self righteous ego-maniac, even if you pretend you aren't.  Another of you is thinking it because you're too fucking insecure.  Stop worrying.  This is how I communicate and sometimes it seems like everyone too many people are squabbling over who is who.  If it's you, then you know

If you are still confused, and you probably are, because you're wonderful and neutral and you don't breathe yourself into things unwarrantedly, and I love that about you (even if you are over cautious sometimes):
"Together. Same Boat. Rain. Wind."

      I want to re-gain my capacity for that sort of trust.  I need it, and you deserve it.  All of you do.   Well... many of you do.  A few of you outright fucking suck.  But that's OK too because you're gonna die like you lived.  Hateful, lonely, miserable old fuckers.



poisonedgrace: (purple and teal)

      I've felt a great silence settling on me lately.
I guess that's apparent from the sparse updates.  Even the ones there have been are just spartan at best.
It really is true, that we're always learning.  About ourselves, about life.  Learning how it all fits together.

I'm always thinking.  Thinking too much.  About everything, everyone, you, and the other.  I wasn't able to identify some of my wellspring of frustration I've had recently (I get it from time to time. We all do).  Then, I realized something.  For a good long time now, it's been really hard for me to trust anyone.  I have always been far too trusting, my whole life.  Of course, more often than not, that gets you burned in a variety of ways.  That never stopped me.  More recently, however (within the last 3 years) I think there's finally been some damage done.  It wasn't just you.  It was a few people who added to the situation.  I didn't even realize that I haven't been able to really trust people until earlier today when it clicked.  That cartoon lightbulb turning on inside my head.

It explains a lot.  It explains why I keep myself so distant from you.  It explains why I keep myself so distant from everything.  'Alone in a crowd...'  It's not fair.  Not to me.  Not to any of you.  Most especially not to you.  In all of this...  All of it, you alone, remain blameless.  Yet, you receive one of the worse ends of the deal.  Maybe we're tied for it.  Neck and neck.   Shame it's a tragedy, and there's no good prize at the end.  It's not that I blame you for what everyone else has done.  Normally, I don't even blame them (factoring in certain variables, of course).  

It's just... I realize that I'm working with a lot of scar tissue here.  I don't like it.  Being this way I mean.  Like most everything in life I'm sure that realizing it is the first step to coping with it, so it's good to sift these things and turn something up in the pan, even if it is you know... a severed ear instead of gold.  

I guess this is why I am doing better lately keeping things surface.  If I keep away from the deepest pools, then it doesn't tear me apart.  That's what it was doing, back before.  Every day, tearing me apart.  I want something there, but I can't trust that deeply.  Not being able to trust deeply enough to have something there made me feel guilty.  It was an abysmal cycle.  Made me feel like I could never be happy, but I didn't know why.  Now I finally know why.  I still don't know what it will take (time? practice? trial and error?) for me to feel like I can trust someone on that level again.  I guess you can't find the cure until you know the problem though, huh?

Through this all, so many things keep breaking my heart.  Usually in a good way.  If that even makes any sense.

It seems like too many people misread me.  Misunderstand me.  If you think this is pointed at you... well... one of you is thinking that because you're a fucking self righteous ego-maniac, even if you pretend you aren't.  Another of you is thinking it because you're too fucking insecure.  Stop worrying.  This is how I communicate and sometimes it seems like everyone too many people are squabbling over who is who.  If it's you, then you know

If you are still confused, and you probably are, because you're wonderful and neutral and you don't breathe yourself into things unwarrantedly, and I love that about you (even if you are over cautious sometimes):
"Together. Same Boat. Rain. Wind."

      I want to re-gain my capacity for that sort of trust.  I need it, and you deserve it.  All of you do.   Well... many of you do.  A few of you outright fucking suck.  But that's OK too because you're gonna die like you lived.  Hateful, lonely, miserable old fuckers.



poisonedgrace: (purple and teal)
In no particular order, from whatever source they stem from, I present these -

     I guess there may be some thing that I sometimes miss about "back then", the more typical feeling is the one represented in this dream. House, decaying, parts of it closed off, freezing and everything covered in thick layers of mold. The streets around us, wet and half alive. Waiting in a cocoon- frustrating constriction. Every night, a giant dragon came and breathed fire on the house, on the streets, on us. I spent all my time putting them out and getting burned. Hunted and injured at every turn. All I could do was try to keep the baby safe. Eventually someone died. They all showed up. I didn't know how they found Us, so We hid, under the soaking, freezing porch until We could escape. Then, one by one, you pulled the boards off and exposed Us to them. That's when it hurt the most, when I realized that it was you who betrayed us. With my final squirming, dying breath, I was trying to help the baby to escape, to go on and live and have a good life. Hopeful for his future, even as the dragon and it's minions killed me.
___

     I think that perhaps my memory has done you a disservice. You were in a dream I had the other night, alive and real and just like you were all those long years ago. All filled with awkward and awesome in equal parts. I wish I could remember more of my dream, but all there really was, I think, was just once again being surrounded with your... presence. And now I finally realize that I failed you. Now I finally realize that I let you down. Now I see that what I always took for a rejection was anything but that. It was very most likely the first truly noble and unselfish thing I had ever encountered out in the world, and I was too shallow to see it for it was. I remember the time in my life, almost like a whirlwind of birth, discouvery and loss. More confusing than it was worth. I never could read you, always such a mystery. Now, Looking back, more studied on humans than I ever have been before... I recognize that look in your eyes as one of pain, disappointment, and maybe even a little bit of jealousy. Sometimes I wish I had made a different choice that day. And that other day as well. Did you end up how you ended up to fill a hole that I made? I am sorry. I wonder how different things would have been for both our lives if we had done a better job of communicating. I wonder if you're the reason that I put so very much thought, effort and importance on communication now.
___

     I love doing this literal thing.
when someone (usually via IM, since all my friends live in the internets)  asks me what I am doing, I no longer say "playing a video game"

I now give an exact and wonderful answer.

"Well, these little shapes keep dropping down, so I am trying to pack them together to make solid lines so they disappear and make room for more."

"Crawling in and out of pipes and stomping on flying turtles."

"Flying to china to whoop Chun-Li's ass, then it's off to Thailand to put that damnable Sagat in his place."

"The world has been completely sundered, but I'm going to gather my friends up and go try to kill Kefka anyhow"

"Killing a bunch of priests so I can gather up all their runecloth to give to the elves so they'll like me enough to sell me a cat that I can ride."

and so forth and so on.


hey, it helps me pass the time.
___

sometimes... I really feel like something is missing.

 
poisonedgrace: (purple and teal)
In no particular order, from whatever source they stem from, I present these -

     I guess there may be some thing that I sometimes miss about "back then", the more typical feeling is the one represented in this dream. House, decaying, parts of it closed off, freezing and everything covered in thick layers of mold. The streets around us, wet and half alive. Waiting in a cocoon- frustrating constriction. Every night, a giant dragon came and breathed fire on the house, on the streets, on us. I spent all my time putting them out and getting burned. Hunted and injured at every turn. All I could do was try to keep the baby safe. Eventually someone died. They all showed up. I didn't know how they found Us, so We hid, under the soaking, freezing porch until We could escape. Then, one by one, you pulled the boards off and exposed Us to them. That's when it hurt the most, when I realized that it was you who betrayed us. With my final squirming, dying breath, I was trying to help the baby to escape, to go on and live and have a good life. Hopeful for his future, even as the dragon and it's minions killed me.
___

     I think that perhaps my memory has done you a disservice. You were in a dream I had the other night, alive and real and just like you were all those long years ago. All filled with awkward and awesome in equal parts. I wish I could remember more of my dream, but all there really was, I think, was just once again being surrounded with your... presence. And now I finally realize that I failed you. Now I finally realize that I let you down. Now I see that what I always took for a rejection was anything but that. It was very most likely the first truly noble and unselfish thing I had ever encountered out in the world, and I was too shallow to see it for it was. I remember the time in my life, almost like a whirlwind of birth, discouvery and loss. More confusing than it was worth. I never could read you, always such a mystery. Now, Looking back, more studied on humans than I ever have been before... I recognize that look in your eyes as one of pain, disappointment, and maybe even a little bit of jealousy. Sometimes I wish I had made a different choice that day. And that other day as well. Did you end up how you ended up to fill a hole that I made? I am sorry. I wonder how different things would have been for both our lives if we had done a better job of communicating. I wonder if you're the reason that I put so very much thought, effort and importance on communication now.
___

     I love doing this literal thing.
when someone (usually via IM, since all my friends live in the internets)  asks me what I am doing, I no longer say "playing a video game"

I now give an exact and wonderful answer.

"Well, these little shapes keep dropping down, so I am trying to pack them together to make solid lines so they disappear and make room for more."

"Crawling in and out of pipes and stomping on flying turtles."

"Flying to china to whoop Chun-Li's ass, then it's off to Thailand to put that damnable Sagat in his place."

"The world has been completely sundered, but I'm going to gather my friends up and go try to kill Kefka anyhow"

"Killing a bunch of priests so I can gather up all their runecloth to give to the elves so they'll like me enough to sell me a cat that I can ride."

and so forth and so on.


hey, it helps me pass the time.
___

sometimes... I really feel like something is missing.

 

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