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it's hard to pretend that may didn't matter. came and went, that was it. with mush stuffed in-between. friendships in limbo, tossed toward trashcan but never quite making it there. used cotton swabs, q-tips, and kleenex. too busy with picking up trash to realize i was neglecting myself and this project. my role for may: being the bad guy with selfish ways. too proud to admit that maybe i was wrong or harsh, and simultaneously feel that it was all deserved and something he needed to hear from a person whose opinion he allegedly values. didn't quite work, did it?
brother and wife with kids in florida having a time and calling in sick i wish i could make it, but, you see, i have these commitments that have engaged me prior to wanting to be here i wanted to be somewhere else emphatically speaking i'm just doing this for fun and my health is sucking more and more i must learn a certain amount of tolerance and moderation that anyone can see is necessary to continue living one must form good habits and not die young or hard-boiled eggs and cheese are a good source of protein. i babble.
i wonder how i make it to the bathroom in one piece. i'm not even awake when i walk in and turn on the light. brother is in town today, for a few. must find us something to do where neither of us has to do the talking. we must have gotten it from some place. at least i know i'm not adopted, which wouldn't be bad a bad thing, but in childhood he teased me, so i thought otherwise. we've come a long way from beating the hell out of each other. still, he fails to take me cereal-ously.
strange dreams all night. same can be said for Saturday. what's with fear of rejection? commitment? familial obligation? changing everything for everyone by way of screwing up? no more discovery channel "how Earth could explode at any given moment" programs in throes of sleep. no more serious thinking. or maybe there should be more of that kind of thing.
restless. sleepless. wanting this proverbial itch to go away. can't seem to find either Motivation or Inspiration anywhere around town. feeling guilty for neglecting other failed projects, but then not because they all proved too much to handle all at once.
ninety-five words currently describing me:
afterthought anxious arid bloated bored boring bothersome cold dependent demanding disappointing disgusting distant drab dull fat fed up financially irresponsible frumpy good enough, for right now greedy heavily human herniating high-maintenance hypercritical hypersensitive immature inadequate inept inexperienced indifferent inferior invisible irritated irritating irrationally sane lethargic like i'm missing something like my big bad is coming locked menstrual moody motionless mush nauseous negligent nervous not enough nuisance opaque oppressive ordinary poor rumpled sad selfish sludge spectral static stupid suspicious terrified unable to elicit any sort of response unattractive unconsciously elusive undesirable uninspired unknowing unloved unpretty unworthy
i seem to be no talk and all dramatic action lately. maybe i'm going crazy, although i would like to think not. something should be wrong by now. maybe i just didn't see this coming. know that as soon as i give in and admit things are swell, something like a boil will pop up, causing a most uncomfortable sleeping situation. if enough people believe in them, ghastly monsters become real. maybe i'm just not well-versed in Cohabitation speak-easy. it's not easy for me to describe. fear. recognized irrationality. "what-if-ing" my brains out. i learned to talk at some point.
puffy red eyes. an utter lack of sleep lines on the skin. i should have just stayed up all night. i ended up fighting with myself for being stupid for most of it, anyway. maybe i'm being paranoid, but you can't say i'm not detail-oriented. something is amiss. i can feel it when i shower, like it has contaminated our water supply. ours, as in "both of ours". as in a "we", an "us". admittance: first step in overcoming psychological barriers. hey, it works for alcoholics. i don't see why it can't work for commitment-phobes, psychopaths, paranoid-schizophrenics, or common crazies.
this girl is unable to communicate,
even when it's all she can think about.
don't know what she's so afraid of.
it's not like he wouldn't understand,
or try his best to.
she's a frustrating individual.
and frustrated, most of her time.
her tendency to rehearse telling others
things in her head, things she deems
important, makes her brain think it has
already told someone a story, and now
she's got her reasons for being crazy.
any biased outsider can see that.
realizing the need to change but still
feeling hindered, and not changing is
this girl's lament.
it was my saying first.
"your plan was foiled!"
kassi and katrina. spain and sandia-time. makes me miss times when june was lazyily warm, and july was too scorched to be anything but miserable. and we were still the only women on our beach wearing tops. no air conditioning. we didn't need it at night. chocolatte con churros. ah, but that was another time. place. country. life. four years ago and counting, that life was mine. not that i would pay to have it back... photographs, ticket stubs, and passport stamps suffice.
life without necessary medication to serve as a buffer. only way i can describe it is this: like trying to watch cable when you don't pay for it. 3:30 am: porn is on, and you can't make out anything but vague outlines of bodies, which could be doing anything more innocent than boink-chica-boink-boink-ing. you don't really know what they're doing, can't hear anything but static. like noise from your alarm when it's not set to NPR, you wake up to loud, scratchy, inaudible, tangled messes of noises. you make out voices, but fail to comprehend. living from under five blankets.
a better day than yesterday but i wouldn't say by much because that would be a lie and i don't like to do that since i call others out for it and complain that people aren't honest enough but when they are i get offended because it is honesty without tact or feeling
where was i going with this one?
oh. right. today being better than yesterday, and probably the day before, although it was a few days ago and i can't remember back that far, so maybe it's not much better, but for various reasons, it feels like it.
Wednesday at noon
never looked so good.
wish i could sleep until then.
cover my eyes and yours, same time.
we'll both be afraid of dark places by 9.
where do we go from here?
singing in each other's tone-deaf ears.
give me a hug. seriously,
i have to leave by 8:21.
how did we ever survive
without internet access?
no, please. i don't want to reminisce.
copying by hand with calligraphy pens
ten million copies of our new
we'll be doing it ‘till we're 80,
or until it hits midnight.
whichever comes first.
hello? are you there?
a new plan. strategically speaking, it's not a bad one. tactically speaking, it can be done. honestly speaking, i don't think they'll all go for it. maybe it would be for the best. we all know it only takes one donkey to ruin it for an entire pack. contracts, obligations, financial means. a mack and sally operational outfit wouldn't be so bad. they always reminded me of that painting, anyhow. moving along. we all will, at some point. thinking about it sooner rather than later would ensure that i enjoy life at 35. mom retired at 42. she's not cramped.
it shall be a good day in Baghdad when i win a Pulitzer Prize for a novel not yet started. a self-taught lesson in motivation and work ethics. nothing starts, or finishes, itself unless demonically possessed or divinely blessed. thought about Candide. need to pick it up again. where is randomness for all, when i have it all right here? how can we start a real estate business, buy and sell homes for others, rent out homes to others, when not one of us owns our own home? irony and hammers to work with. speaking of irony, alanis concert tonight.
lessons learned, to self from self: don't expect people to change and traffic to move just because you think they should. people are impatient, and you are no exception. sometimes, doing something you've become not in a mood to do is a good remedy for getting out of that funky mood. you shouldn't talk so much about things that don't really matter, unless it's a funny story. he is right; women are most territorial creatures. it makes me wonder if makeup was primitively used to attract a mate. survival of those most attractive. and then she bites his head off.
trapped on a hamster wheel. i go to bed unsatisfied with myself and wake up even more so. hateful dreams about people that don't matter anymore. a bundle of lives splitting in ten different directions, two major geographic locations. me: straying. them: staying. it always was that way, now that i've had five years or so to think things over. have i always run away from things when they become a tiny bit less than desirable? like father, like daughter. don't they say that? that must be where i get my self-righteousness. i blame him. it's always someone else's fault.
another monday. i wonder if this point in this cycle labeled as a day has a negative connotation on any other planet. it can't just be us. that would be arrogant to assume. but we are by collective nature arrogant schmucks. my religion is right. no, mine is. no, that would be mine. you'll all die, burn in hell for not taking me seriously. not that this explanation or acknowledgement makes it any better. we must seem so stupid, so unevolved. what if we are exhibits in a museum of some superior race? or worse: a child's science fair project.
life shouldn't be about keeping tabs, assessing difficulty level, buying pantyhose, making phone calls. why should it be, when i already know that time is a continuum and i've done these things thrice already this very day? children who die young get to relive only good memories, every time around. older people see their lives stretched before them, a shriveled hoola-hoop, and are forced to recount all good, bad, traumatizing, otherwise forgettable. along similar lines, George Carlin said long ago that people should be born elderly and die as orgasms. that would be fair and just. pigs have 30-minute orgasms.
i'm shorter than i think i am. shorter than i seem to myself when i'm standing eye to eye with someone else. i don't think i'll ever grow old. there was something else prophetic i thought of on my way to work. my problem with driving and epiphanies. writing it down becomes a hazard, and i don't have luxuries of worker's compensation, in that regard.
oh! this is it—i make a list of things to accomplish and everyday is a photocopy of the one before it. "today, i will be different". and then this broken record repeats itself again.
not enough coffee in this joint to satisfy a monster of a morning i've been having for weeks on end. dissatisfaction is not an antonym of satisfaction, but merely an absence of it. don't they call that being indifferent? i wouldn't say that i'm indifferent toward my job or boss. i don't not like them, but neither of them do a thing to satisfy me. if one of them did, wouldn't that be called "grounds for legal action"? apparently, rules mean nothing to my other male manager. shacked up and living with another employee. department head pretends he doesn't know.
drive-in movies make me think of a childhood i know like a good book. i can't say that i was an active participant. i know what i learn through stories of it. i've blocked it all out like a bad dream and an old movie that i know every word to and don't know why. stories of my mom's childhood. drive-in, pizza with onions and anchovies, pappa joe was still alive. wonder why i've called him by name, a man i never met 16 years after his death. in his place, a miser, some say. my grandpa, with bigger ears.
a life full of games and reality that isn't real. unless you have a damn good video card and a faster processor than your neighbor. i'm tired of working for other people. other people who drive in to work an hour late in a Mercedes bought by our company. same company that cuts the tech/computer support department from four guys to one in order to "cut corners" and "save money" for our company, an original not-for-profit, but we'll take it if we can get it monster. i'm tired of 65-year-old boys always being in charge. i suppose that doesn't change.
bad phone calls, quick showers and packing. i was supposed to get up and organize. said i would. don't think i'll do it. something is missing. maybe breakfast. maybe laundry. maybe a strange feeling. maybe a million other things. i'll just sit here at my desk all day. be a lazy bum. taking a stand for people not working everywhere. well, it IS sunday. so it's not really a stretch. i should get some water, but it's way…downstairs. parched. ugh. i'll just go drink from sink. smelly cats, meowing. i'm not sure what they feed you guys around these parts.
a monday for all mondays.
stolen car stereo.
good morning, maggie.
welcome to your life.
hey, things could be worse.
keep things in perspective.
you mean Police Man isn't coming
to dust for fingerprints?
oh. that's right.
i'm not important enough
a citizen for him to care.
technically, i don't even live here.
that makes him more skeptical.
who is he to judge me?
i'll try to drown out noises
and be rendered helpless.
music is my release, my good point,
what i wait for, 7.75 hours at
my silent desk.
talk to myself again, i shall.
monday in recap: stolen car stereo. movie that was canceled after i had ticket, popcorn, and soda in hand. bad rap songs and no ability to squelch them. taken to red lobster for dinner. ice cream afterward. kim says i'm funny, even when i'm down. makes me wonder how long i've used humor as a way to cope. probably a lot longer than i'm willing to admit. father's day came and went, didn't it? don't know how i'll try to fix that one, or if i even will. i'll intend to, for sure, but our problems will probably go unresolved.
ice baths. i was never a fan. you'd have to be crazy, i think. or at least under an influence. hormones. an excuse for everything these days. not so sure i would have punished myself that way. when will this week end? weekend. that was clever of whomever thought it up. margaritas and cheese. this is going to become hazardous to our healths. or very good, you never can tell. harder to disallow usage of "the" than i thought it would be. like having become dependent upon music to make a crappy day better. but at least i've got something.
a girl walks into a bar and—no? wait, you've heard this one before, yeah? so, she goes in, sits down, orders a drink. looks around like she's waiting on someone who is running fashionably late. she sits and waits and waits some more. looks like she's wondering why no one will talk to her. getting looks, flirtation with bartenders. clock ticking, still waiting. latest sports scores flash across the bottom. she's still all alone, but no less intimidating.
yes, i think i've heard that one before. it's only funny because i know that girls don't walk into bars alone.
he was always that guy who never learned to speak correctly to women. always that guy who turned everything around, blamed his mishaps and literal screw-ups on everyone but himself. wonder if he's ever realized it has more to do with him not being anyone. can't create his own character to be, so he works off of others. example: i told him that, in order to understand me, he should read D.H. Lawrence. a month later, he sent said book to a mutual friend, passed off my words as his own. he found a few passages moving, after i highlighted.
another week's end spent at computers. when will we learn that sunlight is actually good for human bodies? skin is pale and transparent. a far cry from every summer saturday and sunday i've ever been pleasured to know. maybe this summer is a time to avoid skin cancer. i can only assume better things than a summer of laziness, a summer of being a desk-bound sloth. i do this every day. why would i do it during my time away from cube-farm? ah, no games there. there's your rub. speaking of rubs, i need one for my back. and neck.
success. i've finished. a whole month of no "the". maybe i missed one or two, but not for lack of trying my hardest. in immediate future, limit use but not prohibit it. the. not as foul and offensive as before. good things to be said for moderation and word diets. more difficult to speak without using it. special interest groups. maybe i should start one. "Citizens for English Modification and Use of Simplified Language (CEMUSL)™. or register a trademark. doesn't take much these days, if what i hear is true. sunday, and i had plans, but i think i'll wait.
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