Let me tell you a thing, I suck at interaction sometimes and this would mostly apply to blogging and visiting blogs. So when I say I am so grateful for all the visits this here humble virtual abode of mine got in my absence, I mean this with all my heart. I have one or two other excuses, of course. Thank you, gracias, merci, grazie! I can’t imagine why you guys stick around.
I’ve hit some sort of wall that I’m finally scaling at a creeping pace (if that makes sense) and my computer is still acting up even after the check up I got done and I’ve got to start saving up for a new one soon, and apparently I think better, or should say more, when I type as opposed to writing (except for poetry, though).
I’ve been drowning myself in music, more than the usual anyways. I’ve gotten into Radiohead quite a bit, “Body Snatchers” hooked me. Um then I discovered Redbone, The Archies and got an eyeful (haha) earful of “Hang on Sloopy” by The McCoys. Sort of a longish list, really. Also electro swing, ugh, such curvaceous sound waves.
I feel my attention slipping away already and I hate that. I hate that I want to write things but I end up feeling that I don’t follow through. I feel disappointed in my self yet I understand why … but still. I drive myself insane with contradicting tendencies, it almost makes sense.
Thank God for mothers, and if you’re an atheist then thank … the universe? Thank goodness. I love mine, and there are moments times when I am acutely aware of how fortunate I am. She’s funny, kind and well, very motherly. Seldom do I see her genuinely serious and friends, those are times to thread lightly. Like right now, I can just walk up to her and give her an impromptu hug (most hugs are, aren’t they?) and she’ll give me a mama grizzly’s feathery embrace.
Why am I thinking about mam? I’m pissed at particularly no once person or group of persons, at the entire world actually and she makes me feel better. I want to be able to talk freely, to express myself without fear of exposing a weakness and generally not give a single crap about bigoted idiots (and I mean completely not waste any braincells) because there are some things one just can’t help at a whim. But that’s a perfect world. Of course I can abruptly choose not to but that’s instability right there. I try to be this tough girl out and about when I’m still plagued by major insecurities and my mind is split and I have to consciously make decisions of what to say in response to someone. Conflicted. I will add that I’m grumpy today.
It’s not surprising I hadn’t slept last night. My sleeping patterns aren’t healthy, surely, but tell it to behave why don’t you. I drag my drowsy lump of a body up the stairs then to trudge along to my room with a defined yawn stamped wide on my face. It hadn’t been hot out today that I should be compelled to reroute to the bath immediately. I want to crash so badly. Just before I reached the door, I stop in my tracks. My nose twitched. Breath in again. Again, deeply this time. It’s going to rain. The fresh, untamed scent riding on the wind carried a whiff of smoke, but little of that. I’m torn: stay there statue still till the heavens descend in all it’s condensed glory or to just beat it.
Then suddenly … I wasn’t slumped with exhaustion that much anymore. Needle. And I need some thread. Why these odd urges come to me at these odd moments will forever mystify me. There was a small pile of undergarments to be mended. Certainly, they cannot wait any longer. Why me? Why couldn’t there be an urgent secret meeting of elemental magicians that I need to attend somewhere? No such luck. Read More »
I’m a decent procrastinator, if I fail to constantly keep myself in check I fear that I’d soon let myself go. Sometimes I leave the little things down for much later that they pile up to be this big monster of collective things, and when come to facing them it’s like I’m a kid again and I’m about to look under the bed.
I worry about this like I worry about a lot of things, but it would all be simpler if I did stuff ASAP, you know? The good thing though is that I still live with my family, they remind me and will keep me on track when they can. They are always here for me. I might get unruly sometimes, and other times they will misunderstand but these things happen and I have to detach myself from the petty miseries these events bring along, or I’ll end up being a petty person, and that’s like one of the worst kinds of people to be.
Who would appreciate a worry-body, a pessimist? Hardly anyone, if anyone at all. I try not to over think situations, see more into things than there really is. I don’t want to worry about the things that will have little negative effects on me, I don’t want to amplify them and stress unnecessarily, myself and the people who choose to surround me and the ones that have no choice. I want to radiate positive energy but it’s a heck of a tough thing to do when I feel cracked up inside, and every time I smile on the outside a new fault line forms on the inside.