born into this mess
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
  I wish you'd make up my bed, so I could make up my mind
The woman whose house I cleaned today smoked me and my friend out, made us mixed drinks, tipped us $20, and showed us the ashes of her sister, whom I had been dusting this whole time without knowing it.

We went back to Decleyre, whence I was hellbent on moving, and I saw Him and my potential/old roommate standing together and something very fragile and precious that I had cherished inside of me, some fragile glass bubble with his face looking out from inside of it- I felt this thing shatter inside of me. I felt hot and cold at the same time and since I was already approaching fucked up, made no move to even try to collect the shards as I walked barefoot through them. I can't do this any more. There's no pretending. I have to stop being around him, and I know that I just have to pretend we are just strangers, cos if I go to his house I will want to feel how his arms fit around me so fucking well, I can't see him, even be around him right now, cos that's all I can think about, the rejection.

I pretended that none of this hurt me anymore, that I was over it. Thought I would be strong for Her sake. But I can't do it, can't be around it.

and I can't fight this feelin any more...
ha.

I will never again believe the sentence, "I will do anything not to lose your friendship." It's total bullshit and I hate it.

It sucks, cos there is no way I can move into Decleyre now, I just don't have enough energy to face up to this yet. I need him not to be in my life right now.

Then I saw my beautiful queer lover and his sweet toy and I wanted to grab him and fly off to iceland and instead I drove by slowly and felt myself die again.

I died so many times today. Still here in the dark on N's sofa waiting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, my next mother's cervix opening to guide me into being reborn...

sigh. wish I was with you, wish I was in your arms...
 
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Tuesday, July 29, 2003
  with what a tangled skein we weave our nests
Some things are hard to get used to, living with people again with whom I have lived before. Some doors are closed now that used to stay open; walls have been built down the middle of a space that was once mine.

Still, I was the one who left, the one who hid in the dark and the cold and could not ask for help, I was so low down I could see no way of getting back up without pulling them down.

So now I am here again, hoping to crawl back into a little safe space, close the door behind me, come out to dig in the dirt, scrub the sinks and bathtubs, cook things with coconut milk...

Some things are hard to let go of. I know deep down that one of my friendships has been very detrimental to me and that this person has caused much pain to several other people, including the person I care about most in this world. And yet it is so hard to just walk away. To quit crawling into his bed and into his arms, to quit this silly game of seeing how far I can retreat inside myself when it hurts, to pretend that I have burned and buried my feelings and made soap from their ashes.

I am tired and frustrated with fear and deception and hidden feelings and mistrust. I try to demand rigorous honesty of myself and it exhausts me, especially when it is not reciprocated. I am tired of silence and tired of jealousy, tired of this deafening quiet and all of its echoes.

The Buddha taught the existence of three truths. Suffering exists. Suffering is the result of attachment and craving. Suffering can be ended by changing your life.

I spent years believing these things with all my heart and yet I continue to feed my cravings instead of looking old Mara in the face and telling him to fuck on off. Have I not had enough. How many times must I die each day to want to end this fucking pain. When will I just stop all this and BREATHE.





Right now.
 
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  just a little bit of pain, you can turn and walk away, you know it ain't no good...
It's hard to walk away from a friendship and then start it up again. It's hard to start new ones. And the combination of the two is even harder.

I didn't eat soon enough today and I just felt my blood sugar drop way too low. Shit. I gotta go eat.

More later or not. Who cares?
 
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  meta my ass
how the fuck does this shit work?
 
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  this little star wishes she weren't single... but not really...
too much coffee gives me nicotine cravings.

I've been listening to some records I bought months ago- pj harvey's stories from the city, stories from the sea, which unexpectedly started out with what sounded like thom yorke, and flying saucer attack's new lands which I haven't heard in a long time. It's real phasery.

Music may have power to calm the svage somethingorother, but it also has an immense capacity to wreck my mood. On a random whim as I drove through the rain to work, I put in a tape of the new Lucero which I don't even really like that much, and rewound to the one song I really DO like. Then listened to it twice. Never even looks my way no more... Then I started to get in my head, creating feelings of sadness or rejection that I had thought I had dealt with or only imagined in the first place. Then I sort of said, what the hell, why not, and fed that motherfucking bad mood by listening to Songs: Ohia's Lioness on my headphones as I vacuumed. I'm getting weaker, I'm getting thin, I hate how obvious I have been...

I guess sometimes, when I have a belly full of cravings, curling up through my lungs and into the root of my tongue, and the rain makes everything seem slippery and vague, I like the concrete feeling of sadness...

Shit. Enough though. I'm cheering up as of AHORITA.
 
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  too much fun for you and me, hon
garrrrrr i spent hours coding and i lost it all.

here's it half way done.
 
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Monday, July 28, 2003
  ultra geeking, jealousy, my own room
So I've been on the internet for about 6 hours now, surfing around looking at other blogs, stealing their code, setting up links. I am sort of getting the hang of things html is so damn sexy. I got a site counter but it keeps counting me, so I have no idea if anyone is actually ever going to read this.

Two of my friends are quietly involved with each other, he is probably one of four of my closest friends and she is an old roommate whom I really care about. For a while there I was convinced I was in love with him and then quickly convinced myself I was not. I really love being around him, I feel really safe and able to be as broken or as strong as I need to, and there's probably nothing I really enjoy more than every now and then getting to sleep curled up next to him like I did this morning. But every now and then I see the two of them together I get a little bitty twinge, a little voice that says, you're not good enough, and that's why it's not you... and you'll never really be happy with anyone else.... I hate that damn voice. I get it with a few other people too, mostly my guy friends, and it tends to really bring me down. First off, I would rather be friends with him for years and years than risk a painfully ending to a short relationship, even were he to want one with me at any point. Because I know I am incapable of Being with anyone, I am just now learning to be emotionally intimate with myself, let alone others. So why do I keep wanting more from every boy I get close to?

Do I feel the need to possess all of my friends or it is just really this difficult to have platonic relationships with the opposite sex? Would I feel the same way, maybe, if my best girl Sarah (who I am engaged to marry in 5 years) started seeing someone? Where does this constant need to be the centre of someone's romantic attentions come from? Will I ever grow up? Will I ever be happy alone?



So I talked to the housemates and I think it will be ok, most of the miscommunication stemmed from a flippant remark I made late last night about moving in without clearing it with everyone since I lived here before. Part of me thinks that I could end up staying, that I really do love it here, and part of me, mostly the OCD part, is horrified by the dirty bathroom with its greywatered sink/toilet and the resulting perpetually fetid odor and scum. But I love the tangled garden and the labyrinthine structure and the trees and the cats and the prospect of once again living with people who care about me. Sitting in my room IM-ing my roommates and obsessively writing in this thing.

Sigh.
Holla at me.


 
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  wow



check this out...
I think Memphis is too small for flash mobs, I dunno.

 
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  ha
well i do have a tendency to overreact i must say that
 
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  dead dog lying by the side of the road
I was riding my bike back into Midtown today to meet up with a friend to go to work. Listening to Lift yer skinny Fists on my headphones, rolling by the corpses of trees, piles of rubbish on every curb, fascinated by the shape made by my shadow.

Then I saw the dog, dead, slightly bloated, just laying there by the side of the road as the construction guys restrung powerlines and traffic slowed to a halt. I kept expecting him to raise his head up and watch me as I rode by.


The storm has left me desperately broke/n with my apartment currently uninhabitable- the windows don't open and it has gotten to be around a hundred degrees. I went there Sunday to get my cats and realized that I hadn't emptied out my fridge... bad idea. Clumps of unrecognizeable sludge covered in furry mold, and the dishes have started to fester in the sink.

I used to live in this co-op over by Memphis State, a big white house set way back from the street with a huge garden tangling up the front yard. I moved out after the winter with no heat really got to me, and I needed solitude. It's a great idea, co-operative living, but it's also pretty damn problematic. For example, the rent is figured by square footage of one's bedroom. So one person pays 140 and the person across the hall pays 350. I'm sure this has a lot to do with utility consumption as well, but it also means that the person who only pays 140 has to earn/work half as much. There's also a major clash of mentalities and personalities. I started talking to my old roommates about moving in at the end of this week, I'm staying in my friend's room until the end of the week and then I have no idea what to do. I had actually gotten excited about moving back in after talking to three of the residents here but then when I got home today there was a like piece of paper with "agenda" written on it lying on the table with some things on it about me that really kind of hurt me. I know it's very short notice, and that I moved out on short notice as well, but I really dislike being talked about when I am not around. It doesn't seem to be very cooperative. It actually had a very hostile feeling to it. I was met with great arrogance by someone that I helped move in here and I am now feeling like it would be a total mistake. That I couldn't put up with the overwhelming standoffishness that I feel from one resident in particular.

So I am actually sort of at my wit's end here. I have talked to a few people who would like to be roommates, but not for a few months and I sort of need housing immediately. I can't afford to keep living in my own place, I had already planned on moving out, but now that I missed a whole week of work I am so fucked for money that I wont be able to come up with rent- I wont be able to work that much until the power its back on everywhere, and theres still several hundred thousand houses without power. I guess I'll stay in this room til its occupant comes back and then after this weekend go back to sleeping on couches til my power comes back on, then just wait for them to evict me. I can always stay at my parents' house.

Shit. I felt good today and now I feel like shit.
 
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Sunday, July 27, 2003
  the inability to change
Somewhere around three months ago, I decided I was going to aim for a few months of total celibacy. I had just broken up with this guy I had been seeing for a month, who had gotten way too attached. I guess I realized that I had fucked my way out of a broken heart and into a state of total emotional coldness.

So I loaded up the vibrator with new batteries and got used to sleeping alone.

I made it about 6 weeks and ended up having sex with a girl I had met a few days before, a friend of a friend. She had just moved back to Memphis and was feeling really fucked up and I was drunk and wanted to feel wanted. Right. But even then it didn't have that same feeling of facesucking desperation that hooking up at the bar last winter did. It was fun. And we stayed friends.

So then I made it another 6 weeks and then last week has been complete and utter debauchery. On Tuesday we had a really big storm here in Memphis and almost the entire city was without power. Trees on the curbs, powerlines in the streets. And thousands of drunk kids scared of the dark. I ended up sort of having sex with a very close friend, someone for whom I really care, but who is also very complicated and emotionally wounded by his ex, who also happens to be one of my best friends. I guess I wasn't really ready for it. I could feel myself starting to feel attached and I was too drunk later that night when the crazy drunk party started to talk to him about it. To say, hey, I think I may end up with feelings for you if we don't watch out. And when the night had really fallen and it was blacker than I have ever seen it in the city, I ended up making out on the porch with another guy, someone I have kind of crushed on but not really been interested in dating. The we staggered to my house 2 miles away through the tree wreckage and groped and kissed and licked and bit etc etc. And then last night I had sex with my best friends' roommate, just to actually feel what it felt like to have a boy's cock inside me. And it felt so fucking good and the power was there, the being in control and feeling alive and feeling the sex flow through me, and this is someone I know I would never develop feelings for, someone who is nothing like me, just some boy it is easy to fuck who is reasonably cute and good in bed.

So that's three in a week. Back to square one. And All I can Think About is if it will happen again soon. And have I gone back to needing physical affirmation or is this just me being horny?

Sigh. 27 lovers in 5 years is just no good.
 
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So this is an attempt to escape from the melodrama caused by having a livejournal ...

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this or what I am doing with it. I have been livejournalling on a daily basis for a few months but I've gotten a bit tired of the cliquishness of it all...

So, about me. I'm 23. Live in Memphis. Clean houses. Useless BA in Spanish.
Figure the rest out on your own.

 
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of you folks up in this mess

I'll lean on you sometimes.
Just to see if you're still there
These feet can't take the weight of one,
much less two, so we hit concrete.

How were we born into this mess?

Jawbreaker, "Kiss the Bottle"

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why I am ashamed of my government

baghdad burning
changing face of iraq
free iraq!
iraq body count
iraq in pictures
today in iraq
Cost of the War in Iraq
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cherry blossom special
clearance bin: bent robots
margaret cho fucking rawks
exploding dog
neil gaiman
indy media: you see it, you write it, we read it
in your face
memphis scene
michael moore
the morning news
pulp faction
que sera sera
rachel and the city: memphis gossip
saturna: moms can be DJs too
teaching baby paranoia
this imploding heart
where we're bound
white ninja comics
wil wheaton
will you marry me, dave eggers?


ryan adams
cory branan
harlan t bobo
dixie dirt
eminem
the faint
the glass
godspeed you black emperor
jawbreaker
damien jurado
lucero
will oldham
bruce springsteen
this bike is a pipe bomb
sigur ros
songs: ohia
tom waits
the yeah yeah yeahs


monkeys susan minot
of love and other demons gabriel garcia marquez
how we are hungry dave eggers
a true story based on lies jennifer clement
frida barbara mujica
confessions of an ugly stepsister gregory maguire
the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay michael chabon
taft ann patchett
drop city t c boyle
song of solomon toni morrison
strong motion jonathan franzen
a house for mr biswas v s naipaul
the last samurai helen dewitt
retrato en sepia isabel allende
the sun also rises ernest hemingway. ernest goddamn hemingway
de todo lo visible y lo invisible lucia etxebarria
bastard out of carolina dorothy allison
light can be both wave and particle ellen gilchrist
the last report on the miracles at little no horse louise erdrich
the onion girl charles delint
oblivion david foster wallace
underworld don delillo
for hearing people only:answers to the most commonly asked questions about the deaf community matthew moore
dress your family in corduroy and denim david sedaris
the feast of love charles baxter
an unquiet mind kay jamison
the adventures of huckleberry finn
the adventures of tom sawyer mark twain
middlesex jeffrey eugenides
interpreter of maladies jhumpa lahiri
american psycho bret easton ellis
how to be good nick hornby
as i lay dying william faulkner
the book of joe jonathan tropper
portrait of a romantic steven millhauser
tiny giants nate powell
how to be alone jonathan franzen
diablo guardiƔn xavier velasco
white teeth zadie smith
candy mian mian
vivir para contarla gabriel garcia marquez
raise high the roof beam, carpenters & seymour: an introduction j d salinger
girl in landscape jonathan lethem
in the penny arcade steven millhauser
amnesia moon jonathan lethem
motherless brooklyn jonathan lethem
a plague of dreamers steve stern
franny and zooey j.d. salinger
lies and the lying liars who tell them al franken
sick puppy carl hiaasen
Don Quixote Miguel de Cervantes, trans. Edith Grossman
Travesti: sex, gender and culture among Brazilian transgendered prostitutes
Don Kulick

Talk: a novel in dialogue Corey Mesler
Thirteen Stories and Thirteen Epitaphs William T. Vollmann
The Once and Future King T.H. White


black lodge video
burke's books
decleyre housing coooperative
hi tone cafe
live from memphis
digital media co-op
memphis flyer
metal museum
midtown food co-op
miz ellen's soul food
p & h cafe
stella


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