Archive for October, 2002

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Drive You Home

it's funny how
even now
you still support me after all of the things that I've done
you're so good to me
waiting patiently
and isn't it sad that you still have to ask if I care
I never said I was perfect
but I can take you away
walk on shells tonight
can't do right tonight
and you can't say a word
cos I leap down your throat
so uptight am I
I never said I was perfect
but I can drive you home
I got down on myself
working too hard
driving myself to death
trying to beat out the faults in my head
what a mess I've made
sure we all make mistakes
but they see me so large
that they think I'm immune to the pain
walk on shells tonight
can't do wrong tonight
and you can't say the word cause I need to know…
I'm praying for a miracle
but I won't hold my breath
I never said I was perfect
but can you take me home

Don\'t get me wrong I love you

I can be a real idiot sometimes.

Like, blowing up over the tiniest thing at the worst time. Or even the best time. Any time. Those of you who've known me long enough are used to this. I know David knows what I mean. Part of me says it's this house. I know part of it has to be this house. Because I've turned back into that sixteen year old who left this place behind. No. I was forced back into him. I cried in my bed again last night. Because walking through here is like having psychotic hallucinations. One second I'm coming home from work and I sit down to eat and as I sit I rewind a year and I'm sitting down in front of the television after a fight with my parents. Wanting desperately to be anywhere but here.

I sat down on the couch to write in my journal last night. And in an instant it was february of 2001. I remember it distinctly. Because I was writing to Kent. A poem came out in two seconds then. And it upset me and hurt me so badly. This unwanted flashback.

I have them with every step. And that's a good portion of why I'm so unstable right now. I know, it's not an excuse. But until I find my balance again I'm going to stumble along. A lot.

And until then I'm gonna yell. And scream. And pick arguements. And make it seem like it's your fault. And in my head, in that moment, it's gonna be. It's the time of the year, it's the current situation I'm in. I'm insane, and heaven help me if you don't sympathise.

Yeah, I know. Irrational. I know that now, but ask me in that moment and I'll hit you in the face. Because all I can see is RED. and how everyone else is wrong but me.

That's why it means so much to have you sticking around. Knowing that I do have a good, sensible side. He's just a little miffed right now and it's hard coaxing him back out here.

::hug.:: Happy New Year. Samhain for the uninitiated. )

Delerious slipping days

I've been here what, three, four days? Christ, it should say something when I can't even remember and I actually have to check a calendar. I think I'm losing grip on things in this house.

It sucks so much. Because I can point to the couch. And say, "We got in a fight over this in that spot." Or, "He hit me while I was standing by that chair." It's having these memories thrown at me constantly. And it sucks. And I just want to get away from it so badly. Sigh.

Tomorrow's the first day since being here that I've got to get to work under my own power. They drove me part of the way monday, and then I took a bus. If I'm lucky, it'll take walking a couple miles and two bus routes before I get to where I'm going. If I'm lucky and if I've figured out these routes correctly. Ergh.

Aw

Erik: i have an idea. ^^
breakdown: what?
Erik: i can help you get out of your parents house.
Erik: i just dont know how yet..

Sigh

So, things here are finally situated. And. I don't like it. I mean, I dislike having to be here in the first place, and I dislike having to be forced back into this home which I strove so adamently to leave to begin with.

I don't forsee this working out at all. Hopefully I can come up with some other option as soon as is humanly possible. Uh, anyone wanna buy me a house?

I don't expect this to work. Not at all. Just, I hope I can stand it for a couple months. Long enough to get somewhere else. Good god.

In other news, anybody who had my old bellsouth account, send me all email to breakdown at 1st-flight dot net, because after the end of this week, the bellsouth account shall be no more.

Specifically to whomever send me the Notre Dame de Paris cd from my wishlist, uh, you might want to check up on UPS and see when the package is supposed to be delivered and all. And I'd appreciate it if you could email me that message back, because right now the ex-roommate is going to sign for it. And if she refuses to give it to me, it's shit and beans for her.

Seriously. Anyone wanna buy me a house?

So, uh

I'm writing this from a friends' house. For the simple reason that I now have no phone line at home. Because this morning the roommate took it upon herself to disconnect it in retaliation for the fact that she no longer has access to my ex-room.

The fact that I say 'ex-room' should state something. I've decided to leave. Tomorrow. I'm not going to put up with that. The only place I could think of to go in such short notice was to my parents' home. This defies all of my own advice and that of my friends, but I had to figure something out. I had to leave and this was the easiest option to present itself.

Argh, I need to go to sleep. Goodnight.

About the layout

I guess I should have done this when I put the layout up, but now's just as good a time. I've been getting a bunch of emails from people bugging me about this, wanting to know about the changes here.

Well, to begin with, you'll notice that the old archives are gone. The reason for this is simple. Roommate has the website (though she doesn't come here anymore, but with all the shit going on now she may decide to just to spite me) and I'd rather have as little for her to see as I can. So I'm chopping out names and such. Cos it was also posed to me how much of a risk it can become that I have all of these people and places plastered here in the event anybody wanted to track me down.

Yeah, I'm paranoid.

The picture to the left is of Akarys, the Warriour. Maybe one day if I ever get off my ass I'll type up the story where he made his debut. He was a character in some of the novels and stuff I wrote a few years ago. The picture was drawn by my friend Kathryn based off of how I told her he looked.

So, there you go. Your curiosity is saited. goodnight.

Whatever

Today has been a bit long. Productive, yes. But long all the same. To begin with, I didn't get to sleep until five in the afternoon. Because I stayed up all morning and, since I had errands to run, decided to stay up all day too at the risk of falling asleep and missing my chance to do them.

So, at nine o'clock in the morning, as the children were either already arriving at or frantically going to school, I departed. Armed with a two-hundred and six dollar cheque from Quizno's– my first one so far– I set out from my abode to do battle.

After cashing the cheque, our first stop was to groom for battle. I got a haircut. A mighty-fine one too, if I do say so. It was done well enough that I ended up giving the stylist a 100% tip, instead of my general 50% one. So I sauntered away, walked down to the bus stop, and waited ten minutes for the bus to come. By now it was nine-thirty.

I got off near the post office, purchased two money orders for my bills so that when the time for them to be due rolls around, the roommate cannot hold me responsible for paying the late fee, because I had the money weeks before it was needed.

I then walked over to the hardware store several blocks away. By now my knee which had been involved in the bike accident a few months ago started acting up pretty badly and I had developed a bit of a limp. But I went to the hardware store because someone pointed out this idea to me. If I went and bought a doorknob for my room with a key-locking system, she could not possibly pick that to get in. So I rummaged around for one of them and upon finally securing it, went to the checkout.

It was ten at this point, at least. Barns & Noble happened to be across the street, so I decided to be pretty gay and walk over. I got something to drink in the cafe and sat down, pulling out my journal and preparing to scribble in it like a true bourgeois bohemian.

After that was done, I figured I'd go through the store because I had some money left to spend. I saw something that made me smile when I saw it, so I tried to get it. It was this Queer as Folk calendar, and while that show makes me twitch of its own accord, seeing this in front of me made me think of said person and I thought I'd do something to make him smile.

So. I get to the checkout line. I give the Totally Gay Cashier my purchases, ignore the momentary glance I get when he sees the calendar, and wait for the total.

"Okay, that'll be $47.91." Uh, what? I had one book and a calendar. It didn't occur to me to look at the price of the calendar because I thought, hell, it's a calendar. Yes, a Barns & Noble calendar, but one nonetheless. I didn't expect it to be more than five dollars.

"Um, how much was the calendar?"

He gives me a bit of a narrow Gay glance, looks at the price. "$22.99." What?

"Woah, okay, put the calendar back, sorry." Since when do simple, twelve-month calendars go into the twenties!? Yes, it had a glossy finish and all, but that doesn't mean it was that fabulous. So, sorry to the person who was going to get it. Uh, commericalism took your present.

So. I finally get lunch and get home. Pop in a cd. The soundtrack for today was Not a Pretty Girl by Ani Difranco. Open up my new doorknob. Go through the arduous process of reading all the instructions, fighting with the old doorknob to remove it, finally get it ready, and then find out that the model I bought doesn't fit my door.

It pissed me the hell off. I'm going to have to go back tomorrow and replace it, because, while it says that it fits all standard household doors, it does not fit mine, and the locking system is a bit deflated by the fact that if you turn really hard in the opposite direction, it will click around and release the catch.

I was upset. Because I burst into laughter walking home at the thought of her reaction when she went to pick the lock and discovered there was a new one there. I grinned evilly because I thought I had won.

Alas.

So I finally took a nap around five o'clock, from which I just woke. To find the cat's litter box and dishes all put back where they were previously, along with the following note:

The litter is clean.
Do not reneg on previous agreements.
I will read no more notes.
Throw away your old garbage or cease making use of MY dishes.
- the roommate

So, I thought a second. And then scribbled my reply on a blank sheet of paper and put it in the same place.

The dishes are your mother's. If SHE states it in writing, I will not use them.
Otherwise, make me. There's no place you can put them where I won't go.

Yesterday I told her that if she didn't quit, I was going to eat all of her food. I told her she had a day to demonstrate she was going to quit. I believe tonight I will have three slices of pizza, two bagles, and several glasses of her cranberry juice while she's asleep.

Yes, it's stupid and petty and childish and likely very pointless. But she asked for this. She declaired this war; I went for a week telling her to stop, taking the shit. And I'm not going to take it anymore.

Anyway, for the time being, I depart. She's out to Laser Tag right now and I'm enjoying the apartment without the presence of evil in it. G'night!

Ah, passive-aggressiveness

I have been very busy today, thus far.

I have decided that her attacks upon me will be reciprocal. I'm very tired of this anger that she forces me to feel. So I'm turning her shit back in her face.

I went around today and removed all the things of hers that were in my space. The cat's litter box is in the living room now, along with his food dishes and etc. Previously they were being kept in my bathroom, against much protest from me because she never cleans it. Now if other people will have to smell it, it might get done.

I took the garbage from last night, put it in a box, and set that on her bed. Along with another note from me.

If she's decided that I am the immature one in this arguement, then I will give her a reason to think so.

And now, actually, I do feel better. Because at least I am doing something. At least I'm not sitting here miserable now because of her. And that's why I am not angry anymore.

New things

So, I have finally managed to finish this. It was strenuous, partly out of lack of inspiration, partly out of lack of time, and mostly due to the fact that I currently find myself in the middle of several difficult situations.

This new layout was bred very much out of frustration. The roommate and I are fighting. Like never before. I am caught up in this and I really don't understand why it is happening. Last week things were fine. Then suddenly she changes, becomes more hostile, more violent, more demanding, everything. I really do not appreciate it, and I dislike having to be stuck in things like this.

So, I am looking for a new place to live. Yes, it is my apartment too, and why shouldn't she be the one to leave? If I fought over that it would only be for petty revenge. I don't care about this place; I am a travelling bohemian, frankly. I can make home wherever I find myself. It's easier for me to just leave, because the only way to extricate her from here would be to involve legal processess, and I'm not willing to do that yet. Yet.

Today, however, she's going to get some of her own medicine. She has been littering my room and bed with garbage and dishes all week. Because apparently the garbage is "mine"– and tell me, since when was garbage in a garbage can a divisible asset? The dishes I use are also apparently not allowed to be put inside "her" sink, which is why every night since friday or so I have come home from work to find them on my bed, buried under all the garbage.

But I have taken it. I have told her to stop, she has told me no. I've told her I didn't appreciate what she was doing, she told me more or less that it would continue until I move out. I don't understand what I've done to offend her and all attempts to find out have resulted in a fight, because she doesn't want to talk. She wants to yell, to make rules, to demand. Because for whatever reason she believes that this house is hers, and while we are both on the lease and we both picked it out together, I am here by her graces.

And I'm tired of being subjected to this. I've stopped talking to her. We communicate now via notes left on the refridgeratour. Very angry scrawled notes, but this way nonetheless. Thankfully my schedule at work has me coming home as she's going to bed and leaving for work as she's coming home. So there is as little interaction between us as can be managed.

I find it funny however that in my last note, where I told her that I was tired of being treated this way and I planned on moving out when the lease expires (and if this gets any worse I will fucking leave her without anyone to cover my half of the expenses. And I would like her to try and sue me for that money.), the reply I got was a personal attack against me. I was civil and calm and frankly, quite polite considering the shit she is pulling. But she's the Big Smart Adult (even though she is barely two years older than me) and I am the immature child. If I didn't want to break something I might laugh about it.

Everytime I stop and think "what the fuck is going on right now??" I have no answer. I have no answer for her behaviour. This isn't the first time she's acted like this, though it is by far the worst. I never did want to move in with her in the first place because I could hardly stand her company, but need and urgency drove me to this.

But whatever. When she comes home today she'll find the garbage in her bed. And if she picks the lock to my door another time in order to put it in my room, I'm calling the police.

I'm very tired of this shit. And it's going to end. Now.

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