the boring leading the bored
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
here.scene: cereal aisle at kroger, ten pm. girl walking mechanically up and down the aisle, people looking on.
onlooker 1: dude, what's that girl's deal?
onlooker b: i don't know, man. she just keeps pacing and mumbling something about wanting to have breakfast with the king.
fin.
all i really want is some king vitaman, dude.
music: ...and you will know us by the trail of dead
ps. this was so much less lame in my head.
pps. nah, probably not. i am hugely lame.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
ah-one, ah-two, ah-one-two-three-four!one. bubblegum? YES.
two. "dance hall" by modest mouse has a lyrical reference to ugly casanova's "ice on the sheets" ("committing crimes and we're running down the alley/i am the captain, you're in the galley")
three. "these burgers are crazy" by the moldy peaches is easily the STUPIDEST song ever, and is frequently stuck in my head.
four. tonight has been kind of a weird night. ive been antsy and ive come to a couple realizations.
i have a little brother. in truth, he was probably one of my closest friends growing up, but we still fought all the time. we STILL fight sometimes. but when we were little we had a certain dynamic to our relationship. i was bossy and overcritical (i still do this, too), and his only combattant tool (i dont think combattant was the right word there, or even a word at all for that matter) was to BUG me. he would tease and torment... anything he knew that would especially irritate me for whatever reason was soon the only thing out of his mouth. sometimes it was personal, most of the time it wasnt. like he used to make this like... clacking sound with his mouth... guh. it STILL makes me shudder. but i dont hold any of this against him... truly, it was all in self-defense. but i used to get soooooo mad. and instead of hitting him, which got me in trouble, i would do one of two things. i would either hurt him, or let it go. both of these tactics have stayed with me. in the first, i would say something really, really mean. something personal. something taboo. something truly, truly hurtful. i swear i can just FEEL the spikes on those words when i let them slip. i can tell that i have just brought something completely vile into existence... something that will hurt someone... usually someone i care about. and most of the time, i dont like to do that, so i "ignore." i think the problem is, though, that when your little brother is calling you "grandma" for some inexplicable reason (was it the glasses? the short, curly hair? or perhaps just because he saw you were bothered by it...), the best option is to just ignore him. you aren't a grandma. you're seven years old. he can just go suck an egg. but it's different when you're older and somebody does or says something to hurt you. because in this case you ARE a grandma.... er... at least... you are hurt. the problem is real. so if you ignore it... it doesnt stop hurting. but it's supposed to. so you ignore. you try. you try. you get bitter. you eventually let it slip... you say something terrible... but in general you just keep it bottled up. cheers, passive-aggressiveness. cheers. and, of course, i dont know who to blame. is it my parents, for telling me to "ignore" jeff's taunting? probably not. it was the best thing at the time. i suppose it's probably me. but is it that i never learned to adjust my conflict-resolution techniques to adulthood? or was i just born this way?
once again, damn you, nature v. nurture. damn you.
ah-two-three-four.
i was alone tonight. i wasnt feeling super-well, so i didnt go to work, so i couldnt go out, so i stayed home. by myself. i mean, my family was here. i actually played a board game with my dad for a while (i beat him all three times, kthx) out of sheer madness. i was alone! and i just craved PEOPLE. i didnt want to work on my projects, i didnt want to clean up the horrible mess ive been making all over the house, and i didnt want to do my laundry. i wanted people. the most notable of the things i DIDNT want to do is my projects. there was once a time that i would unquestionably devote every part of my being to the work i was doing, especially if it involved creation. art. and ive been working on a photo project all day. i LOVE photography. i mean, ive been frustrated with it recently/most of the time, but it's something i can be successful at if i work really hard (i mean... not according to the art show judges but that isnt what we're talking about right now). but i cant just love my work anymore, i think. (this is almost a shame.) but the thing is... ive been... opened, i guess. it occurs to me more and more that im not completely self-possessed anymore.
the time in my life when i was most self-possessed, i took a lot of walks. that's what i most remember about it. walking around, listening to music and looking around and thinking. and i think of it fondly, because it was really a beautiful time for me. beautiful, but not happy, i dont think. they were melancholic walks, because i was so very alone. sometimes i didnt walk alone, true, but i walked with someone who i wasnt letting get close. i hurt him... we never had a chance because i was almost just messing with him... he was there so i had someone to talk to, and so that i wasnt alone, and i truly valued that... fortunately our relationship eventually grew to mean more, but not in the same context. i was a shut-up young sixteen-year-old (seventeen?), miss "no-mushrooms-please" and dont you touch that heart. (i had been hurt.) but i lived for myself and my work. i was sad and i was self-sufficient. no more. i eventually stopped hurting. i stopped hating, i stopped abusing. i opened up. and here i am. it's beautiful, and i am so glad i found somebody who could hold me without hurting me, but it's scary to need. there's a vulnerability, even when you feel like you can trust someone. and it changes you. priorities shift, personality twists, and sometimes you face outright exposure. im generally the type that doesnt want you to see me like this. like this, like that, like anything. im a perfectionist. i want to always keep it together. i want to keep it safe. i want to keep it covered! in fact, it's at this point in the writing that i consider not posting, deleting. because truly, this is bullshit that nobody cares about. and if they do, if they read it, i give them understanding. and at the same time as i crave human understanding, i fear the sort of probing analysis that has picked me apart before. sigh... i just want to be alone. no... i just want to be able to be alone. i think. but then... i'd miss you.
music: ugly casanova
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