country roads
rooms. down the corridor then to the left. hotel-like.
papa turned before hitting the red SUV, but I screamed when he was about to hit this little black girl... we argued that I'd distracted him from reading something off the guy's tires
bean pulling contest, though I'd paid for this other thing...
...hooked up with this nice girl, we picked a mattress-sized bit of it; I said I'd have to leave at noon to make the other thing
anime on the coffee table
Thursday, January 02, 2003
12:19 AM
Starting to feel again, slowly. My parents' visit did a lot more good than expected. Of course, some bit of me wonders where *that* was a year ago, but oh well. They weren't the same people.
I have a bad feeling that I'm the same person.
It's too much to ask. Me, I mean. I'm too much to ask. I flagellate for others, more than most people would, but most people don't need that. They need someone who's living for them, and I'm just not very good at that. Dying's easier. I feel so much for other people, I break into their lives without an effort... and when they come into mine, it's like some horrified church potluck in the middle of a yaoi convention. In New Orleans. During Mardi Gras. For pete's sake, I don't sit around and blame people for being who they are. It's just that there are some things in myself that are solid, some things which are not, some things which vary depending on other things, and when I spell it out for someone else... they say, "Shouldn't it be *this* way?"
And I try again, another way. Same response.
Again. And again. And again. Because I love the people in my life, I do. Otherwise I wouldn't keep trying to bring them in. I'd lose my temper with anyone else.
I always forget that one needs to convince the other person to go in that deep. And almost every time, that same horrified look, that wince, that grimace. "Why are you doing it this way?" Once upon a time, I didn't think twice about that hesitation. But it *hurts* so much now, for reasons I can't control. This is solid. This is fact.
I have a very catholic view of forgiveness. Universal, it means. I'm like my mom; I'll rage for a night, and come quietly by morning. I've learned to respect other peoples' realities. Of course I'll end up the enemy, the bitch, the abuser. Because that's how it appears to other people, and I understand how they see it almost too acutely. It pangs. It aches. Yet I still see it, the need for other people to strike first, to make things the same rather than accept, on blind faith, that things will be different.
People need their monsters. I long ago learned there's no such thing.
Very few people seem to understand that no matter how small... it's real to me. It's not so much the disagreements, the incongruities, as much as it is the unfairness of accepting so much, so blindly, and not being accepted in return. Jagged peg, I. I should never have expected anything else, but honestly. I want what other people want, too. I'm willing to bumble my way through it.
It's funny? I don't pretend to know why, but there is this pattern in my life, of when I am at my lowest, at my most depressed and needy, people yell at me. And the most recent times, few and far between as they were, as completely understandable as they were... I was trying to explain myself.
Apparently I make myself so indispensable, people feel the need to scream at me when I stop working. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I act too much like a need machine to be treated as anything else when malfunctioning. Hit the tv, it'll work. Rap on the computer, it'll load. Yeah.
Well, hey, that hurts.
Of course I'm in the wrong. Duh. It freaks me out when people don't think I get that. But I guess, y'know, having been raised to a life of blind faith and forgiveness, some part of me is still bewildered when it doesn't come back to me.
Note to self: conditional love is the norm.
So I sit here, while the bridges burn, though I never wanted them to. It always seems to come back here. I must be asking for it. I'm so heartily incompetent, I need someone who does know what they're doing. But what competent person in their right mind would take me on? Huh?
Hmm.
Either look for someone who's competent and crazy. Or. Forgo becoming a better person, and just get what I want, alone. The short road to competence. And necessary, by now, judging by the number of spent chances littering the road behind me.
The problem. Well, the same problem as when it all started. I don't know what I want.
....
Good thing I'm not supposed to solve this tonight.
All my life
I was a faceted crystal
aware and clear to myself
When I touched the light
blinding
it was a part of me
suspended in so many lattices
The darkness held me safe
and I was not afraid
Now I am too young
to feel so old
too small to know from whom
this perilous birthing gift came
yet enough to curse it
A sponge for light
at home in shadows
till one day I looked
and I was full
the dark water holding
so much
And nowhere to channel it
Nowhere I would trust
with my glass wire soul
these visions sinking
deep
faster than reflections' grasp
my vessel intact, always
adrift
in a sea of my making
from the day I was born.
~60K of graphics :: Koani by
Alice in Wonderland :: Scorpion by Ushikai Background and buttons by Triple Orbit Graphics ~ Sadly it's no longer at its former website.
