plonk!

the NOT ANGRY has lasted 24 hours.
it's even coupled with things like 'realistic' and 'acceptance' and 'understanding' and 'remembering that breakup was needed' and i am actually feeling those things are true.

this is very good.
still sad that it has to be this way.

still a little sulky that he's getting Adventures and Love, doing things with someone else and not with me... but actually, this is ok, because i love him, and i am glad he has a chance at happiness that honestly the two of us could not, not in the form our relationship took. he can do that with someone else wonderful and they can share that, and yeah, i am a little sad that it could never be me, but, well.. this is the way things are with us. and well.. i look forward so much to our friendship growing and forming now, i think it really can, with time. gently.

and my adventures, well, are just around any corner, gently tugging my sleeve waiting for me to dance off with them when i am ready to and we find each other, me and my adventures, my delicious happy places to go and find glee and joy and wonderful things.

today:

i saw a BABY KANGAROO in a POUCH! i have never seen this before, and i was thrilled.

I explored a burned out house, and made a new friend. an ELEFRIEND, as e. called it, when i texted him a photo of it.








elefriend is HERE!



AND HERE TOO!!

it was a strangely beautiful place to explore.

also :

i may have ANOTHER hausmate... just a temporary one until nikhi moves down... friend of a friend, she seems cool, really, i just feel slightly chocked by the lack of fundage... and really like the idea of the extra funds in the form of someone else. but fuck, i love living alone, SO MUCH, i am not sure if i am ready to sacrifice the pure luxury of wandering around the haus naked and having my laptop in the loungeroom that i can use whenever i want and not feel like i am invading space. it's exceptional.

also :

weekend should be good. two visitors from interstate, one for a month, one just for the weekend, one is my cousin, and one is guy i haven't seen since i was 14 and had a huge teenage crush on him. *shrugs* i presume nothing, lay no plans, and remain totally aware that my heart is taking things slow right now, because i am in love with someone, and i am repositioning the 'in' to a love, which is deep and meaningful, but... different... and it's starting to move a little... a little each day, i am retraining my brain, softening it, and remembering him so warmly, our love so warmly, and letting go the desire for it to continue, to let it go, sand soft, wonderful memories, so many gifts, he helped me find the desire to create again, and ... oh so much, beautiful one, and soft soft footsteps, elizabeth, don't push, we'll get there, and i can love him as a friend, a special, glorious friend, we have that one day, so strong and special, i can see it, all clear glass but stronger diamond like... i know this is a vulnerable time for me, and i am watching that. but, ... well.. *shrugs*. life can be surprising.


tired now. after shit sleep for the last few nights, i am trying to push a little more and stay awake for a bit more, in order to sleep Solid like.

*pulls doona around neck and wishes my Regular Readers - i should start a one way dialogue with ya'll according to your ISP names eh? - a beautiful night's sleep*

asleep?

ok.
this isn't fun.
insomnia is not fun.

i am an EASY sleeper. just ask any poor sod who has had to be near me at any live music event. i conk out no matter where i am; the volume; the temperature; fucking anything. i am tired? k, sleeptime!

right now, i am tired. i close eyes. i scuffle. i roll over a bit. eyes flick back open. stare at time. i yawn, roll over again. shove books around with feet. crack neck. listen to little bunny. yawn. hey little brain, quieten down up there for a bit eh? yes, yes, i know, i know, we've been through all this before, and i promise, you'll be awake again soon! in a matter of hours! you can torture yourself about it then! but how about we compromise, and you can have really tedious dreams for a few hours, using similar metaphores, and then wake up and start your earworm day....

blergh. tired. tired. tired.

why doesn't this work? i am tired. yes! why am i not asleep? these things should match. one two three four... connect four! maybe i should go for a run tomorrow. wtf? what. the. fuck. was that? i don't Run. i struggle with the Walking. i could lift things? arghghgh... sleep sleep the magical fruit... i am far too tired to read, to do anything constructive... maybe i should try reading. something nice and dull and difficult. no, i'll just end up depressed that i am too retarded to understand anything more sophisticated than a baby sitters club book.... hey! no, not in the mood for a baby sitters club book.

sigh.

this is very boring.

awakeish

1.
sleeping is still crap even with Helpful Sleepy Friend.

2.
don't WANNA go to work. sighhhh. actually don't mind too much. have fun things to do there.

3.
i am a little excited about an upcoming payday. i need to calculate how much rent will happen between This pay day, and the next, as i am now paying rent on payday, - and then, i will be Worked Out. i have a slightly jolly feeling that it might actually be exactly two weeks, which would be amazingly good.

4.
snoooooze. head hurts. hungry. i might have a jam donut at work. wow, this looks like a twitter feed now, only longer, and even less interesting, if that was possible. jollification. jollification.

mistakes

reading old emails.

is
always
a
mistake.

four

sorry, i'm still going. don't worry, i'll go to sleep soon. i'm going to look for my dragon shawl. it's got a dragon scale pattern on it, lace, little gaps, softness, crawling up holes, between fingers, cashmere, one of my favourite fibers.

i hate how angry and bitter i sound, towards people who i actually Like. that's what's hardest. i hate having all this feeling pouring over me, and it ending up overflowing anywhere near her. she's great. like i said, i think she's an awesome human being, and it's so hard given the context. i loathe it. however, i don't know why HE thinks she is awesome. in all of my SIX MONTHS of m diatribes, i never got insight into what he loved about her, other than that she was sometimes funny. it was only when i started talking to her that i realised - hell, she's cool. i can see why he likes her. i get that. why didn't you tell me more about how great she is? love is love, and i can celebrate that. it would hurt, but not like this. i would be ok if not for the promise he'd never do it, the repeated statements and lists of why, only to have him do it two days after one such talk.

sigh.

boring, boring BORING BORING BORING elizabeth. come ON. argh. hard not to bash self up over how dull it is. i can get the mental image of readers rolling eyes, or laughing at me, i guess. no, not i guess. i do. people just sniggering at how pathetic i am.

tea, cup four for the night. it is like beer only better. potato curry was not too good, sadly, i didn't have any vegetable stock so just used water.




oh little bird why can't you fly?

ah blog, how comforting you are...

i am now waiting for my potato curry to cook. should i have cous cous too? i wish i didn't have to keep comments of blog, sometimes, so i could ask you, loyal readers, if i should have cous cous with my dinner.

however i'm far too fragile to face the wrath of angry teenagers. sorry, angry teenagers. and thus, sorry regular readers. i am sure you'd love to comment on the presence or absence of cous cous on my dinner.

UPDATE - curry had cous cous added. was not quite enough liquid for it to work really well... sigh...

i'm going to get out my old dragon shawl and work on it... see how i feel a little later, if i'll sleep or get knocked out. the dreams are starting to be foul, dream after dream of him and her, laughing at me, him kicking dust in my face. the amusing ironic thing is that i broke up with HIM because of how he treated her. i thought it was shit to be leading someone on for a game, even if you did have feelings for them, when you'd never date them due to being in love with someone else... ohhhh that's funny.
hope you are 'resolving it' nicely now.

sigh. i am too tired to be angry now. too tired to care. this horrible sick resigned feeling of being used, of being tossed aside. of being too hard. of being not good enough. of being less interesting than someone he claimed was not that interesting. this crushes me. see, if he'd told me how wonderful she was, like i heard about j, his other partner, i'd be ok. hurt, but ok. i would see why, and how, and get it. i get why he loves j, totally, because she sounds incredible. i watched a dance performance she did, on you tube, and it was breathtaking. i know how they met, and it's moving and beautiful and he painted it romantically and magic like. i know what he loves about her, and what frustrates him, and why she is complex and wonderful, in a way that never made me feel as though my relationship with him was lessened, or he was lessening his relationship with her. both of us were treated with respect, and love, and caring when he talked about her, and i appreciate that so much.

but i got left for someone he used to make me jealous. i got left for someone he just whinged about. i got left for someone i Broke Up With HIM due to how he spoke of her. and then, i thought we could work on it. i thought he could be less of a cunt about it all, and communicate about what was really bothering him, rather than strange excuses, and strange things. but it was aparently too hard. he had 'some sort of strange real feelings for her,' that had taken six months to come out. stuttering 'there is... an... attraction there...' you know what's better? giving me a damn idea about what makes her worth it, then i can live with it. i don't feel like i've been superceded by someone else for no reason. all i got was complaints, whinges, confusion, oh do i like her? i hate her this week. i am just doing this for ... insert stupid reason here... never about her, just about him, just about the stupid stupid stupid reasons. but never her. i never got an idea about what he loved about her. and when i asked? 'comforting. easier. easy. she's closer in age. i don't explain things well.' this makes me feel used and pathetic and NOTHING.

it's too late now though. i am so tired of this. i am tired of him. i am tired of what he did to me. i am tired of this. i don't need reasons now. i don't Want them. i want to stop hurting. i want it to all stop. it just keeps running backwards, oh max, oh emily, is this karma for fucking up with you too? cause well, yeah, i fucked up then, and this time, i tried really hard, and it fucked up around me. so don't worry, you don't need to hate me, the universe sorted this all out for you.

i didn't mean to wreck things. i really didn't. i just tried to talk about them. i tried to give him what he wanted. i tried to be the best possible person to him that i could. and i feel like i did all this, and all that happened was i am stuck working in a building reminded of those moments, oh that time behind the building the first time i went out with you to get a cigarette, you liked my docs, i saw you looking at how i stood, i watched you smoke, your lips curling around cigarette, inhaling, that strangely fast way you smoke, and i wanted to touch your face. this is before i even thought you'd possibly be interested. i longed so much for that moment you'd match your words to what you said when you looked at me.

that room upstairs, oh god, i cannot step in there now, 'i just asked you here so i could hold your hand'... that way you looked at me, so hungrily, so lovingly, oh god, oh god.. and over drinks, 'i think you are pretty, and i really want to kiss you,' street theatre, little bar, we walk home, we walk, you touch my feet softly as we listen to music... oh god.. and we were drunk, we were drunk, and i kissed you, in my bed, or you kissed me, and, oh god...

there is a collection of these, and i know writing them down and getting them out is how i heal. there will be entries like this, and readers, i'm sorry. i really am. but i will not hold back because of who is reading this, because it's my space. and i am not making it private in case it upsets someone, because it is my space, and i am so upset that i need something, and i'm sick of making my decisions based on what's happening to others, now.

fat

i am watching a you tube clip about a woman who was told she was fat. she's about my size.

here's something. i hate fat jokes. i hate them. yes, in malicious moments, i've made them, and i now, as an adult, regret them. anyone who makes them is an idiot. an complete and utter fucking idiot. making fun of someone due to their weight is retarded. judging someone due to their weight is retarded. commenting cruelly about having sex with someone due to their weight is utterly despicable.

i love women and men, in many sized. i find women with slight, boyish figures sexy. and i find women with curvy, round soft figures sexy. i find tall women, short women, white women, black women sexy. i find Older women and younger women sexy. i also find women of all of those descriptions unsexy. it really depends on the individual.

however, i hate hypocrites. i hate it when someone rants on and on about ONE person suggesting someone is overweight, and yet not caring when someone else outright laughs at someones weight. that's fucking stupid. i hate it when people bring others down to make up for their insecurities. that would be as pathetic as me laughing at other people with acne, or with large noses, or too many cut scars. it doesn't make me bigger. it makes me smaller. it makes me a small, pathetic, feeble human being who cannot even stand up and own their faults or body image problems.

i own the fact i hate my skin. i have acne. i refuse to take roaccutane, because it will cause fertility issues in the future. i considered it once, recently, in a moment of vulnerability, but would rather have a few pimples than a child with birth defects. however, the thought of laughing at someone elses bad skin? that sickens me. how utterly pathetic and childish is that?

i hate my oversized nose. plenty of other people like it, and think it is cute, or sexy, or whatever. i still hate it. it makes me feel like my face is shaped like a beak or something. i have crooked teeth, and don't pluck my eyebrows. all these things make me feel a little bit ugly sometimes. but i don't make myself feel better by laughing at others who have physical problems/differences/appearances.

i have things i love too. i love my body hair. i will not tolerate people laughing at it, and if they are shocked, or grossed out by underarm or leg hair on a woman, if it's leg, i usually get them to pat it. i've never had a man not concede that it's ok after patting it. if people have an issue with my pubic hair, i just tell them to go fuck someone else, and they don't deserve to have anything to do with my body. i do what i want with my body, and no other human being will have control over that.

right now, i've lost a lot of weight in the last few weeks. my clothes hang off me, and my face looks a bit gaunt. however, my skin is clearing up (juz, bless her soul, says it is because i got rid of the toxin of the 'badman'). when my weight stops me looking like i have an eating disorder, i'll be happier. however, i still stand firm. i loath people making a joke out of people's genuine disorders, or problems, or even, fuck it, NOT problems, but their bodies, which are sexy, wonderful and something to be proud of. if someone Embraces their body, and you don't approve? you need to do some work on your own self, and stop caring about others.

chance comments often piss. me. off.

in other news, i feel good after a day of shopping, park, late sleep in, and pulling down an exhibition (shhhhhh.... it WASN'T the one at work, because i wasn't paid for it... shhhh) as a favour to two of my favourite people in the world. we got a large gallery pulled apart in an HOUR! this makes me physically tired, this is awesome. not hungry, sadly, but will try and make something to temp me belly with... sigh. stupid not eating. so frustrating.

softer

brain is very soft this morning. little thinking, slow thinking easy thinking.

list for the day.

1. buy tomatoes in cans.
2. buy washing up liquid.
3. go to park.
4. take bunny to park
5. consider changing out of same thing have been wearing for three days.
6. probs won't, actually.
8. buy vegetables and fruit.
7. learn to count
9. coffeedrink.
10. plan playdate with fee.
11. get rid of his stuff. pack gifts out of site until i am ready to work out what i feel/can do with it. (apart from the bird calendar, i love the bird calendar... oh and the bunny hat... oh... *sigh... no the POINT elizabeth... the POINT...) get rid of anything that belongs to him. noogy told me to throw it out, and i explained that was not an option for me, and it needed to be returned.

shiny!

i once again remembered that this was my damn blog, and i would blog however i wanted to.... if i want to talk about my battle with my brain, i will. it's not angsty, it's how i am living my life.

last night, i was exceedingly distressed. it was amazingly bad. i knew it couldn't go on. it was at the space where i was feeling that, if i needed to feel like this for any longer, i could not survive it. this is danger point, red flag, deal with it NOW territory. so i did. i am damn lucky to live in a state with exceptional mental health care. you make a phone call here, and people come out and talk to you, and work out what needs to be done.

i've swallowed more than my pride, and taken an anti-psychotic as a sedative. i have a childish fear and loathing of anti-psychotics. however, the effects are starting to roll over me and they are amazingly pleasant. so am no longer in deep fear of our sedating friends.am looking forward to SOLID sleeptime, and being dead to world for a bit. also looking forward to working on Re-imagining The Apartment. It's a dreamy plan. i have a week or so until it's officially, on PAPER, all mine. then nikhi is here for a month, (with jamin for a few days too), and jule in may. i want the amazing combination of nikhi energy, and jule energy.

and i want to knit a shawl. a healing shawl. one for me, one for liza, one for winnie, and one for nikhi, one for fi, one for lady emma, one for lady nat... etc.

oh god... this is a pleasurable feeling. everything is getting softer and softer and softer, the organs are sliding in and out of each other. nice.

haiku

the mental health team
are our special friends some times
when we cannot sleep.


'i will break your heart
but can we still be friends, yeah?
i still think you're hot.'


today i ate Peach
last night i drank too much Wine
and today is crap.


i wish i was home.
this shitty city sucks bad
when you are lonely.

action

taking proper action now:

1. every trace i can is getting out of the fucking house. books lent, old jumper on the floor, a shirt of his. not taking to work. he comes and gets them, or i throw it out.

2. contacted doctors. not going more into it than that, don't particularly feel like parading my mental illnesses around as though they make me interesting in some way. but have gotten to point where outside help is needed.

3. removed him from facebook, and from little bun's facebook. i don't NEED the fucking 'in a relationship with ..... ' blinking up. sorry if i think putting up a relationship status is like something a fucking 14 year old girl needs in order to feel as though she is worthy. oh... 14 year old girl... that's right. yeah.

4. resist urge to be cruel. i know what i want to do. i know how i want to do it. because i want to fuck his life up as much as he has done mine. but this, is. stupid. it's not about him, but about my REACTION to the circumstances. yes, he treated me shit, but the reaction that makes sense is that i would never speak to him again, and would no longer love someone who acted like that. this is not how i am reacting. my reaction is largely out of my control now - thus step 2. but i am not going to do it, and i won't because it's my reaction i am having, and it's no one's fault. i don't BLAME him for me feeling this shit. my reaction to his action has caused me to fall apart. it's obviously triggered something profoundly horrible in me that's risen up, vomit like in my throat, and i can't get it out properly. i am very angry at him, but i don't blame him for the suicidal urges. that's unrelated to him, and is ONLY about me, and where i am situated right now. i am sickened by his treatment of me and it's ok to feel angry. but it's not ok to want to hurt others or myself because of this, and i need to minimise my desire, and capacity to do this, in the safest, best way possible. sorry, e, if this makes me boring, and doesn't satisfy your desire for drama. i know you get off on women saying they want to kill themselves. i know you get off on seeing people acting like perpetual teenagers. but i won't give you that fucking satisfaction. you got the woman you love because she's a 14 year old inside (or so you said). all yours. a part of me goes 'and fuck off and die' but that's petty.

trying to work out what i do next. current action plan is good. will get a lot of the most intense stuff sorted with step two.

little on the floor

k.

remember once again why i've stopped drinking.
drinking
makes
me
want
to
die.

it was several hours of hopeless miserable sobbing, until one am. i tried my bodhichitta practice (in touch with the feeling and not the narrative, feeling not narrative) and it helped a little, but it was intensely horrifically, suicidally bad. sadly, have now reached point where some sort of expert intervention is needed, because i Literally wanted to die if i felt like that for One more moment, let alone the next couple of months that i know this will swing back in and out of my life.

it's bringing back emily and max too much, only in slightly different ways... that was so hideous, and to have the same earworm returns sure as FUCK tells me something about my life choices and where i have been going wrong. it is mourning that all over again, those same feelings of worthlessness. that same sick feeling of walking into somewhere that used to make me intensely happy and having it turn into a BIG FAT REMINDER of what happened. only there, back home, i was at home. i had a support network build up over years. i had a home. here, it's still being built and i worry so much that i am going to lose all my friends over being so PAINFUL about this stupid situation. I am bored of it. i am sick of it. i want to stop hearing about it. and shit, it's my issue. how much worse is it for them?

i'm getting sedatives. i can't fucking sleep anymore, and i am getting sicker and sicker of having to deal with this so viscerally. i still struggle to eat. what i thought was morning sickness was the fact that even going INTO work made me vomit and retch for a few hours.

i have the best friends in the world.
lachlan and liza coming to visit in june/july.
jamin coming to visit next week.
nikhi visiting through april, moving in august.
jule visiting may.
alex is in town tonight (cannot bare thought of going out yet, hope will feel better soon..)
brad has promised a later in year visit.

and my canberra friends are also incredible. so much support and kindness that it makes me cry in a happy way, but also a bit sad. oh god, hurts hurts hurt, triggered too many other past things.

for some reason, it makes me ponder my past reactions to something like this, which would have been fuck all that moves. it makes me go back and see why i slutted off, and how it was just my way of trying to feel like i was worthy of love. or something, i don't know.

places i want to move to RIGHT NOW:

melbourne. obvious. easy. friends there - awesome library - can have rabbits - has more bars than you can count - is not too far away.

new york. because it's new york.

london. beause it's london.


"she said she was going to move to melbourne. i didn't really care. but if you were, it would break my heart." - week before breaking up with me for her.

still angry. RE twitter.

ok.

i fucking HATE twitter. i hate library 2.0. i think it's bullshit. i think this idea that twitter can be used to genuinely engage people during a conference is bullshit. people, fucking read through the tweets. people are just whispering to each other. it's just passing fucking notes in class. we are NOT engaging in ideas. we are NOT developing a polemic. we are fucking just passing a few meaningless words across to each other. here's a phrase - they mentioned lego! here's a phrase! it's about second life and i don't care. here's a few words! we are not investigating or interrogating or even discussing, we are just noting that we can hear it. this is bullshit. surely i am not the only one who can see this, right? i'm not engaging in this just for the sake of it. i'll take notes, reflect, and write them up. i'll engage with the ideas presented. but i'm not flickering a few mindless words that come to mind and i send on my phone to a general area for others to read because it seems like the bullshit 2.0 thing to do. it's not a meeting place, its semantics, it's a joke, it's doing something because it seems so HIP without realising what a fucking ridiculous pointless thing it is. as the ABC guy said, for news, it's awesome.

but it's not breaking news. it's a fucking conference. the notes are going to be online in a few hours anyway. there is NO point to tweeting that i can see, really.

plus, i hate seeing scattered interactions there. i hate this. you fucked up my life, e, i hope you can see exactly how much. you made my workplace, my FAVOURITE place in in canberra, a miserable, horrible reminder of how less awesome i was than someone you said you didn't even LIKE. i feel sick every morning walking in there. i hate it. you've made me utterly miserable, and i hope you are happy. i hope you are happy.

angry. contrained

trying to not go over the top.
is tempting to keep sending messages. remember many times where she would send message after message when we were together. he'd answer them.

clearly, i don't get the same respect. but i would say that is true in a lot of regards.

i am very very angry right now, drinking does that. i am exceedingly upset, and i just want to sleep to make it go away. this is good. more, i want pain, i want pain, i want pain, but i am bigger than this.

previously, i'd go and get laid in order to feel better. now it won't work. i kinda want to make him hurt as much as i do right now, but he's NOT WORTH IT. need to repeat.

but that's a lie. people don't FUCKING get it.

what does elizabeth want?

1. him to ask for forgiveness. i don't need him to want to be with me. or to break up with her. i want him to ask for forgiveness. he's not even a man enough to do that.

2. i would Like to never see them together, ever again. i am solving this by taking night shifts, and weekend ones, and having wet dreams of them both leaving the library.

3. i want him back.

4. most of all, i want to not love him.

i'd be happy if he was with j. because i don't know every single iota of their relationship, i don't know every single opinion he has of her body, her self, her opinions, her phrasing, her life. i haven't sat through every change of opinion. i haven't re-heard her insult me. i haven't had to be a fucking third party in him flirting with her to make me feel sick with envy, only to have him leave me. fuck i wouldn't have CARED if he'd left me for j, because i knew WHY he loved her. all i have with M is a list of characterisitics he's shared that seem somewhat unpleasant. even if every encounter with her i've ever had has shown her to be nothing but an awesome person, he's said almost NOTHING kind about her over the whole six months. fuck THIS. fuck THIS. i ended it with HIM because he was such a fucking shit about her. fuck THIS. i knew he'd date her if i ended it, because, well, being alone is harder than approaching your life as a fucking adult, and he cares about her, and fuck, FUCK go to hell, go to hell, GO TO HELL.

pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. you made me feel like nothing. you made me feel like nothing. you get irritated if i say i am nothing, but you treat me like THIS and expect me not to feel like SHIT? you cunt. you cunt. you CUNT. how the fuck can you do this and not expect me to feel like the smallest, most pathetic human being on earth? you want to fuck me but not date me. oh, but not fuck me now, no, tighter cunt eh?

paint.

white paintings again.
nothing makes me happy.

i like saying that, it always makes me smile a little.

soft grey, softer softer softer taking back the slight grey blue, less and less, glazing over with more white until only this tiny radiant shadow of colour remains on the canvas, but the radiance is from what i took away, stripped back, strip it back, more and more and more, give it detail through nothing. give it substance through nothing.

i am drinking tea, and the scent fills the room. mr tumbles is sprinting around the room in circles, leaping in the air. i am wiping out colour, and the oil pain smell is heavy in the room and it takes me home, outside of a geographic state.

the tea is called monk.

i sit in the apartment in an ill fitting singlet. it is lime green, and it barely covers an inch, my magenta, cheapshit bra showing, pink underwear bright as well. all these colours, all these colours, it makes me pale.

failed again.

no-contact haiku faile.

COWS!

Nemo and i went for a drive. i was having an ok day, very foul morning, chance coupled encounters wrenched a little too hard after an intense night. i felt forlorn all day, that feeling like were anyone to ask you how you were, you could cry. i shackled behind desk, working quietly and miserably, feeling slowly better as time passed, forgetting forgetting forgetting. and then the FUN!
Geohashing with Nemo, in the COUNTRYSIDE!




i've never been this close to a cow before. i patted her, and her soft wet nose and she licked my hands.

thus, i have been singing little songs about cows ever since. COWS! little cow songs! fortunately, nemo is a patient man, and did not go postal as a result of an hour long return cow trip er... i mean, car trip, with me talking about how cool it was to see cows, and singing 'mister cow, mister cow that name again is mister cow' to the tune of 'mister plow' from that episode of the simpsons where homer gets a snow plow truck.



very VERY wet nose.




this is a shyer cow, she did not want a pat. i wanted to cuddle them all and be their person-friend. Cows. i love cows.

they walk so funny, such strange little footsteps, and their hooves are sublime, little cloven feet. the long curly tails on the shy brown cows were so adorable, and their wide curiosity as i walked towards them - they lifted their heads up and watched me, quietly, slowly.

cows. awesome.

day one.

don't say no

it's a patrick wolf song.

it reminds me of an utterly idiotic crush i once had on a boy named yorick. he was horrible, mean, but occasionally showed these sparks of kindness and beauty of heart that made me think he was worth it.

he was also extraordinarily beautiful. not in a sexual way, but in a painting, beautiful creature way. all i can compare it to is the idea of what an angel looks like. exquisite. none of my friends knew what i was doing. fuck, I didnt know what i was doing. i just bowed my head and ran in, arse over feet, mindless, mindless.

it was a very stupid few weeks.

there is a certain madness that's appealing in giving in to the senseless. i can't deny that. i do it often, or at least, admire the idea of it. i see others who do it, people who smoke, or who drink too much, or who substance abuse, or ... i dunno. there's a certain romance in it. but it's stupid. exceedingly stupid. sometimes i feel so embarrassed and pathetic for, i dunno, not smoking. for not going all Over The Top and swilling vodka and drugs, as a VISUALISATION of my PAIN. i feel like i am thus NOT in pain, and just faking it. i feel like the romance of intoxication of action, the madness of giving in, and my lack of it, is why i lost out here. that i should be the dramatic princess, OH GOD let me DIE IT's ALL TOO MUCH for me.

but i don't want drama. i want someone to cuddle me, and to knit a pair of socks, and to do a little painting. i have stages where i drink too much, and get high on staying out all night, and fucking senselessly to kill the pain. i hate it, and i have stopped it, and please, please, i can't ever go back there again. each casual fuck i have EVER had can be mirrored with rejection or abuse. i can count them all, and back them all up. the slut months were a result of being sexually assaulted. a lot of them were people i was in love with, who either didn't know how i felt, or who thought i wouldn't care. realistically, i hate this, intensely.

i want to cuddle and pat my bunnies, and making fucking doilies, ok, with someone i love to hold my hand, and tell me little stories.

that is what i want. i want to fucking save homeless animals and cuddle sad bunnies, and make booties and go to work and help little jimmy with his fucking assignment about volcanoes, and write a doctorate on the baby sitters club and knit in the evening and do stupid pointless paintings because they make me happy. i want to think about things intensely, but i don't want stupid drama and a drinking problem and misery at the end of the tunnel, and complicated bullshit excuses, and this pain, this stupid pathetic waste of time misery over someone so mean. i want a simple calm and happy little life, which i know will always be trapped in my pathetic overinflated intellect that twists around everything and wrecks too many relationships (you know, men get scared if you are smart? this is hard when you are quicker witted than most people...). but i can live with it. i can work with what i have, and you know, maybe i can have that. maybe i'll get a fucking little cottage (you can garden, i'd be terrible, we both know this, imaginary lover who'll never make promises they'll spit into my face) and i'll make origami to hang over every doorway (you'll not say it's such a beautiful metaphore, and then slam it back, oh, no, now i'm not laughing at her, i'm IN LOVE WITH HER AND NOT YOU) and we'll go from room to room, singing smiths songs, and giggling like children as we try and stop the bunnies eating oscar wilde (good luck, the little fucker can't get enough), and i'll hang my stupid little paintings, and we'll hold hands and it'll be good.

Is is utterly idiotic that i feel at 24, (25 in a week or so,) as though life is slipping out of my hands, and i've done nothing of worth, and i've wasted this, wasting everything, that each moment spent is another one where i'm failing to do anything worth anything? i am 25 and i am truly, pathetically, one of my stupid generation. i have blogs dating back to 2002 across the internet, and two pet rabbits. i have a near inability to cook well, and a few paintings. 5K debt, slowly diminishing, built up from buying shit i didn't need or want. a string of failed relationships that last between three years and three weeks, and more casual sex than i even want to recall. montage of clubs and bars and live music and cultural events, swinging from city to city, state to state... a useless undergraduate qualification, a workable partially finished post graduate qualification, and plans for another in order to stave off the boredom, and the inevitability of loneliness.

for all the words, for all the poetry, for all the ranting and the anger and the sadness and the fury, it comes down only to the fact that i feel back breakingly lonely, because betrayal negates any of that companionship, and i feel as though i may as well have been alone all that time, all this time, and what have i got? what have i fucking got to show for all this? we do almost anything to hide how lonely we are, be it television or bauldrillard, or poetry or singing songs. we are social beasts, and eating alone is miserable. bauldrillard talks about this. i'd rather live alone because i am shit at living with people. my house gets dirty when i feel like shit, and i need to nest my life around me, and fill it with clutter to make up for the fact it is actually really, really empty.

i am jealous of my married school friends. i am jealous, painfully so, of those couples that look so in love, so tricked into each others hearts that they the loneliness is suspended and together, they have something tangible. i have my little words, oh so pretty, like little glass beads all hoarded up, but at the end of the day, i curl up alone, around my favourite childhood toy because i am so so so hideously alone.

is it stupid to want to love someone who'll love me and treat me kindly? well fuck it, then, i'm stupid, because that's what i want.

every time i think i am not angry

i realise i am.

i think there may be no alternative.

this isn't making me happy.

i am not happy. i am miserable. not depressed, i know the difference well. i am miserable right now, and i just want to stop feeling so betrayed. but i am a trusting little idiot for some stupid reason, and i like to believe in someone and something.

oh i am under it. he did steal my magic, he slipped it away and traded it up. oh i may be wonderful and magical, but tell me how that means a thing when i am tossed aside, some old rag doll limbs falling off, don't tell me i wasn't don't GIVE me that shit, you don't want to call me your girlfriend and that's not a slap in the face, a day or two after telling me you made your mind up, and you wanted to be with me?

i get to a point where i think i am resigned, and i feel so so tired, and then it falls over me again and i am angry, so ANGRY that i was so gullible, and i get nothing but a blank face, no remorse, no nothing. oh i want to be over it. oh i do. and i think this leaves me with nothing no other choices now.

is it even about this? is it more about the feeling of horrible, horrible alone, that staring emptily into the white walls in my big room, knowing there is virtually no way to meet people in this lousy city, and i kind of just want to sit around and knit socks and do little paintings, and i don't want to be alone, but i don't feel like i can trust anyone enough to even have sex with them again. seriously. i feel that betrayed right now. he defecated on that trust so profoundly each time he told me about her, compared me to her, put her down or put me down, because now i just see reflected in her eyes every similar word he fed me, only in reverse. i feel so ugly. so pathetic. so exceptionally alone, so much like something needless and dull and needing baby sitting. he treats me like a child, so i act like one. i fucking moved states alone. i left all my friends, and have survived a year in another state with my list of stupid mental illnesses that keep me on the verge of hearing voices. don't treat me like a fucking child, or i'll act like one, especially when you left me for someone you claim is less mature - i'm going to think that's what you want.

god, this is not even the point. i drag myself into caring, but essentially, it's about betrayal, and being left with ISSUES and nothing left, nothing left, in this
shit city with nothing to do, and being lied to so pathetically. and call it lies, call it 'caught in the moment' but, when you say one thing, and do something else, i'd call that a lie.

and why the FUCK am i wasting my time trying to rebuild a friendship with someone who betrayed me so deeply and has not even been bothered to take my hands, look me in the eye and say 'i treated you like shit, and no one deserves that. i said i loved you, and then i treated you worse than ANYONE, let alone a loved one, deserves to be treated. forgive me.' i have not been asked for forgiveness. so why should i be trying?

surely i have something better to be doing.