I think it takes a long time for grief to affect me.

A couple of days ago I came home from work to hear a really eerie and frightening message on my answering machine from my mother. "Hey honey, it's your mother. Give me a call when you get this, I've got some really bad news." She was in tears when she called, so I was really nervous to find out what'd happened. So I called her back immediately, and I found out that one of our dogs had gotten into a fight with the great dane that my parents own and had been killed. We've had that dog for several years, and it was pretty upsetting to find out that he'd died.

However, my first thought was, "I'm glad nothing majour had happened," when she told me that. As upset as I was, I wasn't as upset as she was in that moment.

Now, several days later, however, I've been crying off and on over it. I don't want to deal with the image of him lying on the carpet in a pool of blood. Apparently the great dane had hit a majour artery in his neck when he bit him. He died pretty quickly, thankfully. My parents decided to get rid of the great dane, though, because they were dumbstruck that he'd done that. He's never really bitten anybody before, and he's always been a really gentle dog. And the two of them have been around each other for nearly four years, without a single problem. So this was pretty unexpected.

But it's taken four days for me to actually get upset about this. I'm always like this. Something bad happens in my life, and it takes me several days/months before it upsets me. I don't know if this delayed reaction type thing is supposed to be a defense for me, but I don't see how it helps in general.

I don't have much more to say. I just wanted to get that off of my mind.

sunday is gloomy
my hours are slumberless
dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless

30 June 2002 at 5:26 pm | No Comments »
introspection

I looked at the news today, and was very glad to see this article on CNN.com. All I can say is, thank fucking christ. It's about time somebody realizes how offensive that one goddamn line can be.

Now, I'm not the person I used to be several years ago. Back then I would've done a bit of a jig, and then went around offending all the Christians that I know. Now I've realized and gained a level of maturity that allows me to respect another person's beliefs, even though I don't really agree with them.

The problem with most Christians, however, is they've yet to attain that same level. That's why they go around picketing other people's graduations and politely protest things against "God's will." Things all good Christians should rise up for, right?

I don't want to leave the impression that I want to take away another person's right for speech or protest. Because I think they're perfectly entitled to such things. Just don't go around doing these things under the guise of Christianity, unless you're going to claim you're with a splinter-religion of it. Because there's nothing whatsoever Christian about attacking an abortion clinic or protesting a graduation because there happens to be an out lesbian participating in it.

What I do have a problem with, however, is the fact that most organized religions refuse to allow other people to lead their own lives. They have to be converted, they have to be saved. They can't allow anybody to have a belief system of their own unless it's identical to the one used by the masses.

I don't know, it's too early and I'm really tired. So I doubt I've made much sense.

Just, fucking get off of your soapboxes and let somebody else do what they want to do, and stop telling them that Jesus and his lama wants them to do otherwise.

G'night.

27 June 2002 at 1:11 am | No Comments »
proselytizing

Today was interesting for a number of reasons. Fuck. This week has been interesting for a number of reasons. I swear, even when I was in my most manic of manic depression, the rollercoaster of my life had never made as many insane loops as it has the past several days/last two weeks. I've made many life-changing decisions, changed my mind, made new ones, had those fall through, get new ones…. and the end result of all of this (at this current moment; the way things've been lately, I might be announcing that I'm joining the Irish National Liberation Army tomorrow) is that I am currently homeless as of September first, when my lease expires.

Blah. Oddly enough, I don't feel worried. I probably should, but I'm not.

Other interesting things. Today was the first official Flood that we've had since I've lived in Metairie. Seventeen inches of rain. It was glorious. I opted not to walk home in all of it, considering I was soaking wet by the time I got home from walking from the bus stop, a trip of perhaps ten minutes since I wasn't walking quickly. The best part was, there was not a drop of rain when I got on the bus, but the pitch black clouds were a big clue that it was to come. And in the middle of the trip (twenty minutes) it began flooding. It was wonderful.

The only problem is, as I said, I was soaked within two minutes. My computer organizer that I've had since juniour high got damaged pretty badly, I think. It's started functioning again, but the screen is wonky. I hope it works, cos I've got a lot of sentimental value attached to this. Not to mention the shit-load of telephone numbers and dates in its little digital memory. Things that I could never hope to replace if I lost them. Not to mention my uniform for work is dripping wet. And I have work tomorrow. I hope it dries while I'm sleeping.

Andthen, I had a rather interesting AIM conversation with Lizzie today, while I was in the midst of being stalked. A portion of it, I've decided to share:

burns like dust: ::growls.:: liz, make me be mean.
Its 4W: how? and why?
burns like dust: wait. uh. hey, some other chick's trying to get grabby with me! wanna make her go away?
Its 4W: grrrr. grabby?
burns like dust: ::falls over.:: knew that'd do it.
Its 4W:
Its 4W: lemme at her.
Its 4W: kill. kill.
burns like dust: ::laughs.::
burns like dust: don't tell her that you know me or anything.
burns like dust: be suave.
Its 4W: ::growls menacingly.::
lol. i'm just supposed to start bitchin' just 'cause? lol.
burns like dust: i don't know… pretend you're a latino chick.
Its 4W: lmao.
Its 4W: puta! no toca mi josh!

She's a goose and a half. Because of her, I broke down and put my AIM conversation sidebar back up on the site. It's under all the links and crap stuff on the right. It's why it's gonna take double time to load my site up, now. Heh.

For now, even though it feels like my world is raging completely out of control, I'm sitting here and I don't feel worried. I guess I should. I guess I should be scared to death. It's what I've been all my life.

But now, I don't want to be. I'm gonna find some way to pull myself out of all of this, goddamnit. I want change, and I've reached the point where I'm going to get it. It doesn't have to be all that drastic, but my life has to start traveling in a new direction. And I'm gonna figure out what direction that is.

Somehow, I'm gonna figure out who I am.

Levez-vous pour moi comme la lune pour la mer.
Levez-vous pour moi comme une poesie a  un stylo.
Combien profond est votre amour?

26 June 2002 at 12:02 am | No Comments »
chatlogs, the daily things

I'm actually pretty depressed right now. I guess I shouldn't be, but I am nonetheless. Which is silly, because the past couple of days have been phenominal for me, even though with all things concerned, the days themselves have really been rather shitty.

Do you ever have a day, or a series of them, when nothing can spoil how you feel no matter how badly things turn out, no matter how many bitchy customers you have to deal with, no matter how many times things screw up? When you still feel like everything will work out with you on top, even though you've got no reason to really think so? Well, that's how I've felt since saturday. Like nothing can go wrong, even while I seem to be doing my best to make it happen otherwise.

I think I'm really just depressed because I've been waiting all day at work just to get home and talk to a specific person, and now that I'm here, he isn't. It's probably silly, but I can't get past the disappointment and sudden self-doubt, you know?

I'm probably not going to make any sense without explaining, which I don't feel like doing yet, so I guess I'll change the subject.

I found out today that the gorgeous guy who plays Oliver Wood in Harry Potter possesses the absolutely incredibly porn-star-esque name of "Sean Biggerstaff." I knew he was gaelic, but… damn.

Anyway, it's time for sleep. Goodnight. Especially to the one I wanted to see tonight.

c'est pas ma faute….

25 June 2002 at 12:42 am | No Comments »
introspection

I made a new layout, inspired verymuchso by the wonderful michele's website. The image above was made with the help of the poemtag project.

Other than that, well, I have a lot to say. But I'm not going to. Because it's so late, and I have work later. So you'll just have to wait until I get a chance to sleep, my dearies.

G'night, everyone.

If I could say what I want to say
I say I wanna blow you away
Be with you every night
Am I squeezing you too tight?
Yes, I'm wishing my life away
With these things I'll never say.

24 June 2002 at 2:59 am | No Comments »
hear ye!

I'm writing this as an apology. I don't know if it'll matter, but I'm going to try.

I get the urge for change. Sometimes it's big, sometimes it's small. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and have to write in my journal. Doesn't matter what I write, and usually the entries are small and don't say much except, "I need change." Sometimes I rearrange my room. I move the bed into another corner, I fuss with my computer until I've moved it into a spot. I hardly change things much, but just enough so that when I come home to it, and the mental image that I've had of it for the period of time before the changes I've done turns out to be different, I feel surprised. Sometimes I need that surprise.

Sometimes I go through all my old journals and tell myself I'm looking for something specific, when I really know I just want to see how much I've changed from the person I used to be on the paper.

Sometimes I turn on the television or put on an old cd that makes me feel nostalgic and sad and happy and melancholy all at once and I start cleaning. Throwing out pieces of old crap that I've kept for no good reason except that I'm a packrat. And while I do this I look at them and go, "Aw, I remember when…." and I feel good because I've changed. Because change has happened.

And then there are those times when I feel self-destructive. When I sit in bed and just want to cry. Usually for no real reason. I'm in that mood right now. I want to do nothing but scream in my room, because there's nobody here to stop me. Nobody to come in and go "What the fuck are you doing?" Nobody here to judge, nobody here to "understand." Except now I do have a reason.

Sometimes, in this quest for difference, I feel the need to escape. I felt this way a lot at my house. I would wake up and nobody else would be awake (which was incredibly rare in my home) and I'd walk outside, and the cool air of three in the morning would rub up against me and I would never feel so free in my life. Except that I was chained up to a broken home with people I could barely stand at the best of times. I wanted to run away. Sometimes, I did. My parents have no idea how many times I ran away in the middle of the night, running down the dark, dangerous New Orleans streets from age thirteen to seventeen, fully intent upon never returning and starting over someplace different, and only to give up in the midst of my flight, broken, tired, crying, and hurting. Hating myself and everything I've been through, everything/everyone I've lost. And I'd crawl back into bed, and cry myself asleep, praying to somebody to one day actually get out.

And then I left home for good. I moved out. Got my own apartment. Had my own responsibilities. And it felt like finally, that day had graced my life. Until I started to get that overpowering urge to get away again. And I'd wake up in the middle of the night and take a walk. And formulate ways to leave. To start over. To get change.

I'm slowly coming to the conclusion that maybe, I'll never end up being happy. Maybe I'll never end up in a place where I don't want to run away. Maybe I'll never end up with somebody who I want to stay with even in that place. Somebody who keeps me from escaping through a window, whether open or closed. And this conclusion hurts me so much. Because it's killing the last little shreds of innocence that I've got left. It's killing those last little pieces of threads of thoughts that are optimistic and not plagued with cynicism.

I really don't want to lose them.

Before I left home, while I was living with Kathryn, and many times since, David has offered to let me live with him in Ohio. I don't know how many times I've told him yes, only to chicken out at the last minute. And then he'd offer again when I felt that need to get out, and I'd say yes, and then I'd get scared. And that's what I did again this time. Except now I think he's had enough.

I can't blame him at all. I wouldn't have put up with it the second time. I wouldn't have offered again. Certainly not again and again. But he did. And each time (there've been so many) I've been very adament about following through, but I change my mind just as it becomes a little bit closer to "actually happening." This time, though. This time I really thought it would happen. I told Jackie, I told my family. I was even planning on telling my job tomorrow. But today, no, barely an hour ago, I just realized I couldn't do it. I couldn't go. I don't know why. I do not fucking KNOW WHY.

i sat staring at those two bold words for nearly half an hour just now. the rest of the entry sortof melted away, and nothing was left but them. know why. it feels really important right now, though i can't explain it. but somehow when i saw that and realized it, my feelings of lonliness and sadness went away.

Know why.

I'm sorry for doing this to you again and again, David. And I know that won't make you feel any better about it. But I want you to know that you won't always be alone. Whether I was there or not won't make a difference for you. And me being there wouldn't help fill the void that you thought it would.

I can understand it if you decide you don't want to continue this friendship. God only knows how much I've abused it.

I'm sorry. That's all I can say.

I'm sorry.

IF I SPEAK AT ONE CONSTANT VOLUME
AT ONE CONSTANT PITCH
AT ONE CONSONANT RHYTHM
RIGHT INTO YOUR EAR,
YOU STILL WON'T HEAR, YOU STILL WON'T HEAR

23 June 2002 at 2:04 am | No Comments »
introspection

Something fairly unexpected and funny happened to me earlier. I decided to walk over to the arcade that's a couple of blocks from my house in order to use their coin machines to get quarters, so I could wash my clothes. It would've probably ended up being an hour long trip, both ways.

So, I was walking down the street when somebody behind me starts honking obscenely. Now, I'm fairly used to this because I seem to get honked at and whistled at a lot while I'm walking down busy streets. No, that isn't supposed to sound as ego inflated as it came out…. Anyway, I usually wear headphones and listen to my cd player because of this. It either drowns out whatever they're saying/doing, or they assume I can't hear them and leave me alone.

However, this person was incredibly persistent. They drove up to the side of the road and parked. I got my keys in my hand, because, unfortunately, this wasn't a unique situation and I've had to arm myself before. But as they jumped out of their car and grabbed me in a bizarre hug, I realized this wasn't your ordinary psycho.

It turns out she was one of my best friends from high school, though what she happened to be doing in metairie today, I've got no clue of. But she forced me into her car, drove me to and from the arcade, and even bought me a late lunch. It was really sweet and out of the blue, but it made my day much nicer.

Also, the weather today is gorgeous. Slightly overcast, but enough of the sky shows. I can't see the bright glare of the sun at all today, yet it's still so beautiful. And the weather is cool, unlike how it's been the past several days. I'm loving it utterly. Especially since I felt really melancholy earlier.

Jackie has left until the thirtith. For a little bit over a week, I have the apartment totally to myself. My sister, who had been spending the night, left a few hours ago. I have nobody here except for the cat, who's busy trying to brutally maul the carpet in the living room.

I felt incredibly lonely, actually. Usually, having nobody in the house aside from myself would make me extremely happy. But right now, when Jackie and I haven't really been seperated much for close to six months, and even with the problems I've had with her lately, I really miss her.

But I feel a lot better than I did earlier. Today's actually ended up being a wonderful day.

22 June 2002 at 6:07 pm | No Comments »
the daily things

In the newest plot twist in what is increasingly becoming a soap opera too riske for even Passions, ie, my life (24/7 on the Joshview! Network. We even show the stuff you couldn't see in the Truman Show!), Jackie has convinced herself that she has tuberculosis.

Why, do you ask? Because, allegedly, there is a guy at Borders (where she is employed) who carries it. And she's decided that now she's caught this disease, and will refuse treatment and instead live the rest of her rapidly ending life wearing all black, lying in bed all day, and writing bad poetry. I promised to set up a fund in her name after she dies.

However, I do not believe that my roommate, however defective she may be, has tuberculosis. Because she exibits none of the symptoms. She's being melodramatic. And she takes offense when I tell her that.

She better not have it. Because I think my family (brother, sister, and I) are at some uber high risk for contracting it. I seem to remember the need to get tested for it every six months for two years or so when I was a child. I cannot remember why, for the life of me.

I plan on calling my mother tomorrow and getting the scoop. Because it's rather odd. And also I have to find out what time Sydney's coming over on friday.

Ah well. I have work tomorrow. And I need to start looking for a new job. Because, as Jackie so obviously noted, I apparently no longer have a job, since I only work three days a week, when I'm lucky. Heh, I was wondering how long it'd go before she realized that I've been spending more and more time at home, as opposed to slaving my ass off to horrible customers. It was almost three weeks.

Anyway, lovedolls, I depart now. G'night.

20 June 2002 at 12:50 am | No Comments »
the daily things

So, I got my mother to pick me up from work today. It's something that's happened maybe three times since I moved out, so it's still fairly new to me. I mean, she always picked me up from school or after-school events, but that seemed different. That was something she had to do — motherly responsibilities, I suppose — so I'm still pretty thankful when she takes time out to come rescue me from the land of fast-food.

Except today I had a real reason for needing her to come get me. I could've always taken the bus, as I usually do after work. But today, I needed to talk to her.

I decided to bring up the subject of moving away from here with her. And I totally was expecting her to pull a parent, and tell me that no such thing was going to happen as far as she was concerned, and I was expecting there to be a furious arguement in the twenty minutes or so it takes to drive from my job to my house. Well, in all honesty, I had no idea what to expect. But I was prepared for some war to explode in her tiny, maroon car.

Thus, I was extremely surprised when my mom said to me, "Well, you're an adult now. Maybe not legally, but as far as I'm concerned. And I won't stop you from making decisions about your life now."

I hadn't expected that reaction. I only expected the negative to go happen. I guess that's because I'm still conditioned to how things were back last year. I forget that all of us have had time to grow up since then.

So she has to talk to my father about all of this, but I guess it went well, because he didn't call my house and leave me angry phone messages after she got home. Maybe they're prepared to be rational for once.

Sydney's gonna come spend the night over here this weekend. It'll be the first time in a long time that I've gotten to see her for an extended amount of time. My brother is difficult to be around at best, but I enjoy the time I spend with Sydney. I've really missed her a lot, and I'm looking forward to this.

19 June 2002 at 12:31 am | No Comments »
the daily things

Okay, this is pathetic. It's 3:47 on a tuesday morning, I have work later (though, thankfully, not until two PM), and sleep is totally giving me the finger. It's been so long since I've actually had a bout of insomnia, that I'm not exactly prepared for this.

I'm still stuck on the train of thought that my life is shit right now. Okay, that's extreme. It's not shit, but it's not where I wish it would be, either. Not even close.

Of course, I've got no idea where I want it to be right now. I'm gonna try and explain something, and I'm gonna sound completely nuts in the process. But here goes.

For the past three years or so, I've undergone many changes on the spiritual front. And, with these changes, I've begun to have a very odd pull. It started not really as anything, but as of late it's developed into something that I actually consider to be my "calling."

Have any of you ever heard of a place in Europe called Glastonbury? Well, three years ago, I hadn't. Until I had a dream about this place. It wasn't (or shouldn't have been) significant — the dream was set in this place — yet it felt important. It stuck with me even when I woke up. And it still sticks with me now.

I feel like I need to go here. I've begun recently to research it, now that I know it's an actual place. And it turns out that it's one of the centres of paranormal activity in England. A good majourity of the crop circles and such occur in and around this place in Somerset. It's also got connections with Avalon and the King Arthur legends. The more I research this place (which i hadn't begun to do until this week), the more I feel like this isn't just my imagination.

I'm reading this site right now, and I'm seriously getting goosebumps. Here's a quote:

"Glastonbury, a small town about 125 miles or 220 km west of London, is full of myth and legend. In ancient times, Glastonbury lay in a triangle with the enormous stone circles of Stonehenge and Avebury - between them they formed a world energy-point. Great circle lines go from Glastonbury to many sacred centres worldwide. "

I realize I'm rambling, but it's because I'm filled with some really strange excitement while I'm reading, and I'm scrambling to type all my words out.

The part that gets weird is that, in that dream I mentioned, I saw a lot of the buildings and stuff that I'm looking at on this computer screen right now. Years later.

So what's this mean? Is this some past-life thing? I don't know. I just know that I have to go here to fufill some spiritual purpose. Ever since I had that dream, it's grow into a craving.

Ofcourse, I am realistic. I realize that, upon touching ground here, the secrets of the universe will most likely not manifest themselves for me. What'll probably happen is I'll get there (if, ofcourse, I do get there) and I'll find myself in the situation I'm in right now. Hitting a dead end.

Because, depressingly enough, I am seventeen, and unhappy with where I am right now. I find that morbidly disturbing. At seventeen, aren't I supposed to be worried about high school, getting my license, going to prom, graduating, going to college, etc? The "normal" stuff? I find it really unfair that for whatever reason my life has been accelerated to the point where I am in a dead-end job and paying my own bills and rent at seven-fucking-teen. Not even legally considered to be an adult, as I've had reminded to me at every point.

I can't get a bank account, because I'm not eighteen. I can't even get a fucking video rental card at Blockbuster Video because I'm not eighteen. How insane is that?

Ergh. Now I just sound bitter. Anyway, I should go to sleep. Because I've gotta get up in five hours to prepare myself for my wonderful job. Blah.

goodnight, everyone.

18 June 2002 at 3:40 am | No Comments »
bitching