This very moment will never exist again, so even as I make love to it, I'm kissing it goodbye.
I hate myself for being a little bit happy that moments like tonight, when I should be relishing the fact that I am safe and warm and loved by someone with good intentions, won't last forever, and I won't feel so guilty all the time for not deserving it, and for not giving it back.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
Sunshine
Last night I had a dream that I was a snail.
That was it, really.
I just sat on the dirt, in the warm sunshine, stretching my snail neck and thinking snail thoughts.
This morning when I was walking to the train, I stepped on a snail.
*Twilight Zone theme song*
That was it, really.
I just sat on the dirt, in the warm sunshine, stretching my snail neck and thinking snail thoughts.
This morning when I was walking to the train, I stepped on a snail.
*Twilight Zone theme song*
Thursday, May 14, 2009
For you.
Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was of little consequence to the universe, but major consequence to this particularly story. She loved a boy (there's always someone to love), and this boy loved her too.
This boy was also in a band, which he loved. A lot of people loved his band too. The girl didn't mind, she got it.
This was until the boy realised that the people who loved his band also loved him, so much so that they would do whatever he wanted.
He informed the girl that she was of little consequence to him, and there were a million more of her in the crowd every night.
He was a bit silly.
So she closed her door, and let him go have the million other girls. She loved him a lot, but she didn't like him anymore.
And so it goes.
Then the boy came back for the girl, but she wasn't there. She was off being of little consequence somewhere else. So they both lost.
Something tells me that this kind of story doesn't end happily.
Naturally, there's no other option but to write it better next time. (Or maybe get a better lead actor.)
This boy was also in a band, which he loved. A lot of people loved his band too. The girl didn't mind, she got it.
This was until the boy realised that the people who loved his band also loved him, so much so that they would do whatever he wanted.
He informed the girl that she was of little consequence to him, and there were a million more of her in the crowd every night.
He was a bit silly.
So she closed her door, and let him go have the million other girls. She loved him a lot, but she didn't like him anymore.
And so it goes.
Then the boy came back for the girl, but she wasn't there. She was off being of little consequence somewhere else. So they both lost.
Something tells me that this kind of story doesn't end happily.
Naturally, there's no other option but to write it better next time. (Or maybe get a better lead actor.)
Monday, May 11, 2009
Happy Days
Stupid piercing. Again.
Another tattoo- the ninth, but the first one that means anything to me.
The delicious melancholy of a break up.
The delicious melancholy of not being in love.
I'm sorry.
Work being rad.
Fractured jaw. Again. Soup month again?
Not really knowing where to go home.
New sheets.
Old sweater.
Yoga.
Singing 'So Long, Farewell' every evening as Emma leaves for work.
The man from Tiger Tiger telling me that I've lost too much weight, and giving me free breakfast every morning.
Feeling bad because I only drink the green tea.
Asthma attacks.
Not answering my phone.
Being genuinely happy for my friends- stay beautiful, because someone has to remind me that it still exists.
Koby, I miss you. I hate you for doing this. How can you take your life when some people don't even have a choice?
We're not the same.
But the thought that we are keeps me awake every night.
I need new blogs to read. Someone who feels just like me, please, but a little less numb. Say the words that I can't find- say them however you want, I don't even care if you spell like a dyslexic, just remind me that I'm not the only one awake at stupid hours.
Another tattoo- the ninth, but the first one that means anything to me.
The delicious melancholy of a break up.
The delicious melancholy of not being in love.
I'm sorry.
Work being rad.
Fractured jaw. Again. Soup month again?
Not really knowing where to go home.
New sheets.
Old sweater.
Yoga.
Singing 'So Long, Farewell' every evening as Emma leaves for work.
The man from Tiger Tiger telling me that I've lost too much weight, and giving me free breakfast every morning.
Feeling bad because I only drink the green tea.
Asthma attacks.
Not answering my phone.
Being genuinely happy for my friends- stay beautiful, because someone has to remind me that it still exists.
Koby, I miss you. I hate you for doing this. How can you take your life when some people don't even have a choice?
We're not the same.
But the thought that we are keeps me awake every night.
I need new blogs to read. Someone who feels just like me, please, but a little less numb. Say the words that I can't find- say them however you want, I don't even care if you spell like a dyslexic, just remind me that I'm not the only one awake at stupid hours.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Somebody
People tend to give me a lot of advice, maybe because I seem to often find myself in difficult situations. Recently I was in an awkward, complicated situation, and the two main bits of advice I remember were also the two most conflicting- "Choose the one who loves you most" and "You've got to love the one that your with."
Under my circumstances, they weren't the same thing. I chose the one that loved me most, because he'd be the one to treat me right. Don't get me wrong, he's a lovely guy and he treats me amazingly, and the thing is, if I can't love him, maybe there's something wrong with me?
I've never been the one to profess my love or to feel completely lost without someone. Even my friends know that I'm not the type to emotionally connect.
After disconnecting so long ago, I'm desperate to connect, but I just don't know how to do that anymore.
Under my circumstances, they weren't the same thing. I chose the one that loved me most, because he'd be the one to treat me right. Don't get me wrong, he's a lovely guy and he treats me amazingly, and the thing is, if I can't love him, maybe there's something wrong with me?
I've never been the one to profess my love or to feel completely lost without someone. Even my friends know that I'm not the type to emotionally connect.
After disconnecting so long ago, I'm desperate to connect, but I just don't know how to do that anymore.
Monday, May 4, 2009
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