This Mabon I asked the gods for some help with a few issues I've been having problems with by myself, like my body and losing weight and getting back in shape. I didn't ask for an immediate physical change so much as I wanted a change in my mind to make me want to work out more, make me keep myself in shape, eat right.
I've seen the changes.
You've just got to realize it's the mind that must change first before the body will even start to. And nobody can change your mind until you want to change.
...My mind's getting where it needs to be, and my body will follow.
lying here, wondering if I"ll be sleeping. too hyped up to sleep yet, and my digestion has decided that it's not quite ready to go to bed either.
...I am reminded of a summer years ago. it's the music, and the way that the night surrounds me. too dark, too dark for that summer.
but the tiredness is the same, blood and bone, the way the words of lois and dan simmons echo in my mind, weaving into a web of beauty, danger, violence. Lights and the controls. running the show.
an angel on the stairs. green carpet with red stripes, drying blood. red carpet? green stripes? too long ago, too late, beauty of the fragile glass type. must not let it fall down.
but he is lost to us forever when the angel dies. keep the life support on. dream her back together.
a few scattered feathers is all that remains
I want to have a grand romance.
I don't know if Adam is the sort of person that has grand romances. Does he? I want something bigger than the world, the sort of thing that makes Romeo and Juliet look like Tim and Sally five years old on the playground.
I want to be seen.
When I go out, I'm going to flame like Norma Jean, like a meteor, like the piece of satellite that digs a furrow a skyscraper deep in the ground.
It's the music. Bringing back the melodrama. I already had it, the epic. Shawn. We were forever. it burned out in black smoke and shame and larger than life sex, perpetually in that too-clean moment right after the shower, your skin just barely dry, all shaven clean, still naked under the clothing.
that's what we were. we were the sleep we needed. echoes in an empty room. religion? atheist. we were the gods. narcissus.
a sound as big as the speakers could crank. it always had a soundtrack, that gold and purple and black and crimson summer, the sex and the Taco Bell and the crisp blue air and gold birch leaves and frost at night. blazing neon pink sunset all night long.
i could have slept so happy in his arms. virago bitch that he made me; sadistic bastard that i turned him into.
we were so wrong, but i loved him so much.
here's to you, shawn. blessed be, and though the fire of that year may be gone, the edgy sparkle/edged drug haze that i saw you through, that you looked through in the mirror, you'll keep on.
no blaze of glory for us going down. fade away through black smoke and emerge the other side sepiatoned, mundane. a father. an auntie, a three to ten job, school. sepiatone and shopping for groceries not midnight cravings. all the notes of this music tug me in some direction other than the new life i've made for myself raising up a family, every note says get drunk off your ass and kiss shawn, kiss darkside again, share with both, find david, find rocki, find [the] river.
r.e.m. said it all. they always do. so much better than my broken lines. not even proper poetry here, no caps because I'm too damn lazy.
i am a vision, illusion.
I miss the Center for Talented Youth people.
....now there was a crowd that new how to get high off the air. tripping on life. i miss it.
don't let the music die.
turns out that dave is in fact one, Votania's dave is legally empowered to marry people and bury them and bless them and so forth.
wonder what hoops.... hmm.
the thought of being legally spiritually responsible is thrilling and scary.
I'm seeing whether I sleep better with music or not. It certainly helps when Votania's awake crashing around out in the kitchen/living room, and I suppose it makes my dreams more interesting.
...the hell is this? 97.3 F? I did not know I got this cold. I mean, I knew I go down when I sleep ...
...went smoothly, by all counts. I knew about 2/3 of the stuff on the test. Pity I'm not passing.
97.7 F again. A lot warmer than I was this morning. I know I sleep cool, and that I can't bear to be too hot while I sleep, but I wasn't aware how low my body dropped. I just woke up from a bit of a nap. Adam came over and we had about an hour and a half together; we ate lunch, then we had fun, and then I collapsed for a bit of a nap.
He's got a final now.
I showed up for breakfast at twenty after six or thereabouts. Darkside and I chatted off and on; he was studying. He introduced the concept of the Word of God weapon: a completed, unabridged copy of all the Holy Books in the world, placed in the air directly over the head of someone, preferably a religious extremist of the sort that censors and willfully misinterprets the Word of their Deity.
I sat there and reprogrammed myself from behind my hair. I tried to smooth out the way I felt for Darkside, to a quieter, less violent, love; friends, not lovers. I tried to transfer the passion to Adam --- who was suddenly there sitting down next to me.
Adam was grabbed by the hand. Darkside made a few sarcastic comments at our expense; I made a few at Adam's expense. Adam turned bright red several times. The men ganged their wits together at me as well.
I hid behind my hair some more and reprogrammed with up to 98% effectiveness. I am starting to sense Adam's presence; I'm continuing to sense Darkside's presence, but the distancing of us makes it easier for me to find him, more noticeable when something unusual happens in our link.
Just as it was all going well -- Darkside was opening up tremendously to Adam -- than the woman from Darkside's class who's getting help with a spell from me, the one who has attitude problems -- came up and sat down. We all chatted for a little bit. She saw me hanging on to Adam's hand and commented a bit on that. She mentioned that I hadn't given her the rest of the instructions for the spell yet; I will -- I'll e-mail them to her. She isn't aware, quite, that Darkside is very aware that I'm a witch and that I'm helping her. Darkside tossed out a few words that she didn't know how to take.
Adam departed to open his lab at the same time, approximately, that Darkside and I split for our respective finals. We left her there by herself.
After I was through with my final, I came back to sit in the cafeteria. Darkside was there; I waited for the bookstore to open to return some books sitting there with him.
One of Adam's friends, with the short hair, came up with pizza and sat down. Darkside got pizza, even though DeVry pizza usually makes him sick; this was the long type of pizza not the round kind. They started seeing if they could gross me out. I declined to be grossed out and got pizza of my own despite Darkside's tales of vomiting thanks to DeVry pizza.
Darkside and I are pushing the limits of our violence in friendship. There's so much further it could go, but this is an edge deeper than the safe places we've been. Today he attacked the pressure point that Vulcans always pinch with great force. Adam's friend said I got a "what the hell is he doing?" expression on my face. I was trying not to scream; he had me that far away from doing that. Pain, not pleasure.
I got a scuff-mark on my neck from his rough grab at me, a red vertical line, and some red finger-marks. I wear them with pride. I have a damn good friend. We arm-wrestled, and he won. He's still stronger in the absolute than I am, but I'm working out and he's not. If he got back into the shape he used to be in, and I got back into the shape I used to be in, we'd still be about where we are now.
I can tell him with great joy to go fuck himself if he declares himself to me at any point. I love him; I adore him; I'm friends-with-privileges with Adam now. Nothing more than that; still, I'm not quite a free agent anymore.
I got money back for the books I'll never be using again. Votania looked at the refrigerator and made faces. I handed her money and sent her off to Jack in the Crack.
I'm so very tired today. Not enough sleep last night. I couldn't sleep. It's the youth I still need to spend. Restless, too much and too little time, or too much time and too little to do.
I started singing "Under The Sea" at dinner tonight.
For some reason, Votania started cackling evilly. She told me that I was going to be so sorry I'd started singing that. She'd thought of a prank to pull on Adam and me. She's involving Uncle Alan, and Dawn, and a hell of a lot of other people.
I think I should worry, especially when she said that Adam was going to be about ready to kill me.
To add to the beauty, Darkside still craves vengeance upon me from when Votania and I April Fooled him that I was pregnant.
It turns out that when I'm at that state of body heat when I feel the best and most invigorated, I'm at 98.6 F.
...Hmm. That's interesting.
...you sweep the floor and you only find herbs, incense sticks, and some cat litter
...and you can identify all of the herbs at a glance
...extra points if you remember which ritual you used them in.
Forwarded from my friend Motley from work:
We've been notified by Building Security that there have been 4 suspected terrorists working at our office. Three of the four have been apprehended. Bin Sleepin, Bin Loafin, and Bin Drinkin have been taken into custody.
Security advised us that they could find no one fitting the description of the fourth cell member, Bin Workin, in the office. Police are confident that anyone who looks like he's Bin Workin will be very easy to spot.
Do you post long, emotional revelations on your journal? Sometimes. Depends on my mood. Sometimes they're friends-only, sometimes not.
Do you expect responses? Sometimes I do. Sometimes I need responses and don't get them. Sometimes I think that the things I write are for sure going to provoke comments, and don't... sometimes the shortest, dumbest things provoke a billion comments.
Do you comment on other people's long, emotional posts? Yes. Some of those posts are just begging for it. It's long been my assigned duty on this planet to bring joy to other people's lives, joy and hope and happiness and laughter, in any way I could. I've known this ever since I was fourteen, and I've been figuring out how best to do this ever since. Commenting on LJ's one way.
Does it make you uncomfortable to learn about despair, abuse, rape, betrayal, misery and decay? Infuriated, perhaps. Saddened. Angry. Upset that things like this are happening to such beautiful people out in the world.
Or does it just make you uncomfortable to make comments about other people's despair, abuse, rape, betrayal, misery and decay? Sometimes there's nothing you can say that won't sound wrong or dumb when written out in black and white, or whatever colors your monitor and programs are set for. Sometimes you have to fall back on one of the stupid-ass little comments tossed into the post that weren't important at all, and talk about those so that at least something will be spoken of. .... Sometimes you just want to leave a post to say "I was here. I read this. I don't know what to say." There should be an LJ-specific word or tag for that: lj-kilroy?
Is being added to a friends list an automatic invitation to comment on other people's despair, abuse, rape, betrayal, misery and decay? Myself, I'd say it's polite to lurk for a while and make smaller comments so you can get to know each other a bit before making intrusive comments. Then, who am I to prate about manners?
Can you truly know someone through their live journal? That depends on what you see of them and what of themselves they choose to show. Some people can't hide anything no matter how full of bull they stuff their journals; you know them very well. Some people tell the truth and a good approximation of the whole truth. Some people hide almost everything but reveal more by their word choice and more. Some people, you'll never know. Same with reading paper diaries.
Is an LJ persona closer to one's true self or farther away? Closer than what? Than knowing the person IRL? Mine probably is, if you're speaking of how well some people know me, and how much I hide. But if you're speaking of how well my parents or biological sister or heartsister knows me, there's no way my limited words here can convey that kind of depth. If you're talking about how much my friend Darkside knows me, I'd say that LJ presents a far more complete picture of me than he's seen. I post in every mood; he's never seen me in a few emotions that he will probably never see me in.