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BY lonita

09/01 Direct Link
It's the first day of a new month, and I'm thinking of the past; of all the places there I'd visit were it possible; of all the things I wish I'd been a part of. Yet, while there is a twinge of loss and wistful regret, the past is not the place to lay one's hat. We can only go forward. Ceasing to move forward is a living death without evolution, creation, or becoming. So, while remembering that the past is what made me, I think of tomorrow, and remind myself that every day is the chance to start anew.
09/02 Direct Link
On a flat roof
Facing the night canopy
There is the moon
Far off
Keeping her distance
She leaves you alone
With a cathedral dome
Not made of human hands
There is you
The room of indigo in bloom
Not even a star
To dot the darkness
You remember a dream
Falling through space
Terrifying turns
Around planet curves
Infinite whorls
Of ink pots
Of tumblespots
You pick your way
Through dim-lit paving
Up the stairs
Against the railing
And closer still
To that flawless coverlet
Of troposphere
And stratosphere
And mesophere
And thermosphere
And exosphere
We are not here
09/03 Direct Link
I discovered yesterday that my digital camera is non-functioning. It can be fixed, but I've not got the money to do it. I feel like something has been taken out of me, taken away. I don't know if it's easy for any creative person to explain what it's like to have their tools of expression taken away from them. I feel as if something is missing, some part of my essential person. A camera is not merely a means by which things are captured; it is the means by which I find what delights my eye, and captivates my attention.
09/04 Direct Link
I feel as if, somehow, I am going to be condemned to a life of mediocrity; not because of anything I do or not do, but because those who manipulate so easily with words or imagery or with their own bodies, will always distract attention away from my casual, plain, placid self. I am not a princess of passions expressed solely for the purpose of twitching someone's body parts. I have as much heart and as much soul, but I do not dress them up in finery and flattery. I lay out a plain dish of sweets, unspoiled by sauces.
09/05 Direct Link
Sometimes I'm too pragmatic; I think I'm being sympathetic and nurturing, and other people take it as unfeeling and lacking in understanding of the human animal. I feel inadequate next to the rafts of theretheres and shared experience. This pragmatism, my attempts to put a different spin on whatever situation is under emotional scrutiny, is all I have to offer; but it pales, it seems, next to tea and tears and sympathy. I have only tea and sympathy; I am the nursemaid who brings the tissues to wipe the tears, even if I can't share them. It's all I have.
09/06 Direct Link
Today was one of the nicest birthdays I've had in years. It was pleasant. I spent time with good friends, engaging conversation, good food, silly films to watch. I was saying to one of my friends just the other day, that having a good day, regardless of how or why, was the best thing. I am past the phase of my life where parties and material things are the ultimate way to celebrate the day. As I've got older I've found that time with friends is the best thing, having a pleasant time, and ending the day with a smile.
09/07 Direct Link
Obsequious toadying, possibly the most nauseating habit I've encountered in my lifetime, next to the hypocrisy of women who are whores in the bedroom, frostmaidens in the kitchen, yet insult whoredom in others. Every time someone tries to suck up to me with syrupy over-enthusiam, it makes me want to slap them with a rolled up newspaper. Get real. Just talk to me. Stop trying to impress me, butter me up, or win me over by appealing to vanity. I hate that shit. It's a nauseating turn-off. It's unnecessary to suck up to me in order to get my attention.
09/08 Direct Link
Talking about physical intimacy like I'd discuss what I bought at the grocery store, isn't something I do. I find it invasive, and sometimes even a bit gross. So, when someone tells me I said something positive about anything physically intimate, I'd love to know in what fantasy world they dreampt up that conversation, because it sure as hell wouldn't be with me they were having it. I also don't like it when people say things like, "Well at least you got laid," to me. My reaction is always, "So what?" or "Who cares?" Is it really all that important?
09/09 Direct Link
This is the first time in my life I've ever been truly frightened about my future; frightened that I won't be able to find the necessary work in order to prevent starvation, living on the streets, and a complete loss of dignity. I am ashamed of how much time I've let slip by, and if there were a way for me to retrace time, I would. It's difficult for me to say these things aloud, because so much more should have been so much better sorted by now; but, they aren't, and I must live with how things have become.
09/10 Direct Link
I have met any number of souls over the years, who have a very linear and limited sense of what are appropriate foodstuffs to serve at meal times. I remember one couple I babysat for a number of years back, whose heads, I thought, were going to come off their necks when they found out I'd made pasta for lunch for their children. I also introduced a couple of cousins to the concept of eating steak and eggs for breakfast, and having eggs as part of supper. How do people get so straight? Food is food; eat it when hungry.
09/11 Direct Link
I can't image any task more demeaning or disheartening than looking for a job; except, perhaps, for filling out student loan applications. That can make you feel like what I can only imagine being anally raped without lube would be like. The older you are, the most discouraging the process can be. It becomes embarassing to admit to people you don't know, or to yourself, that you have very little to go on in the way of real, marketable job skills; and, coupled with that, a massive fear of leaping headlong into a workforce you've only got marginal acquaintance with.
09/12 Direct Link
Sometimes I think he cares more than he wants to let on, even to himself. Things will go so well, and then they get to the point of real warmth, and all of a sudden it's awkwardness incarnate. He will call, but avoid having anything to say, and it's a struggle to carry it. I can tell that somewhere, in there, there's something that he just doesn't want to come too close to. If only it were one of those things one could just be direct about; but, it is not, so it has to be left as it is.
09/13 Direct Link
The trouble with working in a call centre asking about political candidates in a party you've never voted for in your life, is trying to keep your tongue from snapping off its roller when sounding enthusiastic about a Conservative candidate, even though there isn't enough money in the world to get you to vote for that party in this or any other lifetime. It wasn't too bad, all things considered. I only got one nastyness the whole shift. No weekend shifts for me, though; who the hell wants to talk political affiliations before noon on a weekend morning? Not I.
09/14 Direct Link
I took some career quiz recently, that's supposed to use the answers you supply to a series of questions, and choose appropriate careers based on your tastes and willingness to do certain things. Right on top of my list it says "website designer", which I'm thinking, fuck no. Never again. What did surprise me, though, were how many things I do actually have interest in, were at the bottom of the list; like historian, special effects technician, musician, or composer. I half expected to see "lion tamer" at the bottom of the list, and "accountant" at the top of it.
09/15 Direct Link
Nightly I hear your affection
Strung between us by wire
Satellites and stars
Distant warming hearts
On beaches
In backyards
The sofa and the stereo
Drums and wires
Songs and desires
We talk of mothers
Of peace and passion
Sympathy and anger
The future
And the past
Sports and weather
All together
It makes us
Sometimes I think we're dancing
Purposefully apart
Sensitive
Yet too tentative
I want to reach through the air
Lay my cheek against you
But you are there
And were I to breach
The spaces between friends
I am too fearful
That is where it ends
09/16 Direct Link
We here
The secret sharers
People know our friendship
But they don't know
That every night
In the dark
We whisper
With no witness
But the cats
Who are unconcerned
With our human foibles
We can feel the warmth
Of words like kisses
Secret affections
Even the tiniest thrum
Of sexual tensions
We tantalise
With tentative
Discussions
Of how we live
And what we feel
And the music that
Crystalises
Our thoughts in ways
We wish we could
Have penned ourselves
And no one knows
Not even we
Who don't admit
That between
The two of us
There lives
Love
09/17 Direct Link
Ever feel used, discarded, abused? Doesn't feel so wonderful, does it? Do you hurt? Feel insulted? Feel like the last breath of your faith in humanity has just been sucked out of you? Feel like someone's just used up the last bit of ability you had to build any kind of real caring or rapport with another human being? Just remember those feelings the next time you take up someone's time, get them to care for you, lead them to believe you cared about them, then throw them off like yesterday's news and insult their caring while you do it..
09/18 Direct Link
Someone at the workplace made some crack about going to pee off the last coffee he'd had, and that bothered me in no fashion. Someone else was griping about her financial situation and the effect it was having on her life, rightfully given that her pay was late, but it offended me - despite there being no vulgarity or crudeness involved - because she was, in my estimation of human behaviour, degrading herself. I was embarassed for her. She sounded crass, boorish, and without a sense of propriety. I wouldn't openly abase myself by admitting such personal embarassments in front of strangers.
09/19 Direct Link
I don't deal well with misalignments between people; when people throw me off kilter I feel it, more strongly than I should. I always take personally things which probably aren't; people's coldness, snide cracks, unfair comparisons. I worry that people think less of me than they do. I fear displeasure. It knots my gut up. It's amazing, though, how phone calls in the middle of the night, ones of apology, can blow that nervous mood out the window like it never existed. I don't have to worry. From some people apologies carry a stronger significance than they do from others.
09/20 Direct Link
Some days it gets driven so hard home to you that you will spend your life alone, without real affection, without real comaraderie, without connection, without simpatico, without anything that other humans seem to come by so readily. I know I make things harder on myself by virtue of the person I am, but why does it have to be this hard? What's worse is watching the simpatico and closeness between people I wish I were closer to, come so easily, and I have to struggle for every crumb. I feel so isolated right now, so unloved, and so trapped.
09/21 Direct Link
When I was on my way home from work today, I saw this woman dressed in red. She wasn't just dressed in it, she was bathed in it. Her skirt, top, purse, earrings and shoes were all exactly the same shade of red. I was waiting for her skirt to blow up enough for me to see what was underneath, because I'd have bet even money on her wearing panties the same shade of red as everything else on her person. Never did get a look at her face, but I bet she was wearing the same shade of lipstick.
09/22 Direct Link
I'll tell almost anyone almost anything, but I do it on my dime, in my own time. I don't care how intimately I know a group of people, I do not take kindly to someone else airing my personal business openly, however innocuous it might seem to them. It's embarassing. I feel exposed, like someone's just made me the size of an insect. If you want to end friendship with me, doing this would be about the quickest way to go about it. I might still hang out with you, but I sure as fuck won't ever trust you again.
09/23 Direct Link
Yesterday a friend's mother passed away. It is difficult for me to connect with how people must be feeling at a time such as this. My traditional style empathy tank ran out of fuel, methinks, so I cannot feel along with them. I am, by nature, somewhat of a pragmatist, so thinking of practical things is how I show my concern. I make sure people eat. I get the tissues. I make the tea. I know that some people see me as being aloof, uncaring, and I suppose I am in a way. But tears are not the only comfort.
09/24 Direct Link
Working in an elections-related call centre has taught me many things, not the least of them being that if you're calling on behalf of a Conservative candidate, you will get far more rude hang-ups or people pretending not to understand what you're after. Liberal fans are a little more polite, and far more enthusiastic, than Conservatives. NDPs are downright self-righteous. I say this without guilt, as I am one myself. I haven't yet come across one more willing to berate the current regime, in most voiciferous manner, than an NDPer. Now if only we could get rid of Jack Layton...
09/25 Direct Link
All of a sudden
It's Sunday night again
Here I come again
To share your backyard
Friend
And the canopy of leaves
That too soon we leave
Behind
Too soon we move to dreams
Too soon tomorrow beams
Golden slumbers
Golden days
Dreaming away our evenings
Beneath this golden haze
We delight in shorelines
Foggy drives
And the lines
Of favourite songs
Night calls
And the hesitation of hanging up
Hanging on every syllable
Waiting til the next night
And the connection
Oh ring it right
Hello in the night
Even when there's nothing to say
It's better than nothing
09/26 Direct Link
Well that's just sucky, that is. I was supposed to spend election day being a Deputy Returning Officer at the polls, but I've had to turn down the position; one cannot in good conscience administer oaths and fill in forms that are printed in text small enough as to be nearly unreadable for those of us not possessed of twenty twenty vision. I've taken the job of Information Assistant instead. It pays half what the other job does, but one shouldn't complain of making ten dollars an hour for the simple task of telling people which poll to vote at.
09/27 Direct Link
When something has been a certain way for a long time, it's understandable that the pendulum will swing with equal, perhaps more, force in the opposite direction, especially when it swings away from something that is socially offensive; not the least being the oppression of women. It seems that current social trends have given rise to a breed of rabid feminist that seeks not merely to even the playing field, but also to even the score. Exactly what they feel this would serve, is beyond me. Turn-about is cheap, worse than base and juvenile. Rabid feminism bores me to tears.
09/28 Direct Link
It's amazing to me how they can make sex scenes in films look a lot more interesting and entertaining than the real thing has ever been in my experience. They make it look like it isn't messy, embarassing, and awkward. I have also learned that men, some men, actually become emotionally attached to the women they are intimate with, not necessarily to the point of falling in love, but at least to a point where there is affection. This also I do not understand, as I have always been able to walk away from it; it's never brought me feeling.
09/29 Direct Link
Such a child he is, so thoughtless, rude and mean. When my camera broke, he was concerned only about my making him unhappy, no thought of concern for how unhappy I was. When I tell him I am unwell, he asks not at all about how I feel, but is concerned only with the potentiality that I might make him ill. When I say that I don't like a thing, or don't want it, things that he likes and wants, I am insulted. He talks of my personal business in front of others. And people wonder why I ended it.
09/30 Direct Link
They've cancelled the shift I prefer at work, and are replacing the two five hour shifts a day, to one seven hour shift. I have so little desire to work this shift it's unreal. It effectively makes one's day shot. I liked the early shift; it's the easiest job in the universe, but it must also be said that working a later shift will likely mean that White Trash Woman and Cheese Greeter will not be there to offend the aural canals of the rest of the staff. These two aren't unlike having all sound filtered through a metal grate.