I know that things have definitely fizzled out between me and my lover...I was silly to hope that our passion for one another would sustain time and distance. His communication with me has become less and less, and life has run away with us, and away from each other. So, I distract myself. I seek comfort in the busyness of my days, trying to find another to occupy my heart and mind, and try to tell myself that it was always meant to be this way...that we were never supposed to really want one another. I tell myself that this is all in my head and that he is indifferent.
All of that, I could forgive, and hide and bury deep inside of me, and not really speak of it to anyone...except when I sleep and dream. My dream last night was so vivid...I could feel him, smell him, he was everywhere and I woke-up in tears. I miss him and I hate it. No matter how hard I push it down, it comes back up one way or another. Dreams betray me, and yet I can't wait until I can dream about him again.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Monday, March 29, 2010
Re-do
I really haven't had much to write about lately. I've been working so much that it really has drained all the creativity out of me. But I'm working at home these days, which saves me about 3 hours a day out of my life. So, I've decided to start getting back on track. I've even managed to pick up a new books to read.
Also, since I've cleaned up my company and just focused on the important stuff, there hasn't been much drama. That's good in some ways, terrible in the writing department. I have nothing to write about, and nothing really worth remembering... how sad.
How sad is it that my life is pretty ok, and I have nothing general to get excited about. I love the people in my life, I like my career, I like everything just fine...and now...I have no inspiration. That's so not cool... I need something to want. Hmm, maybe someone? hahaha
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sad
I sent my sister a couple of emails and most recently a letter and enclosed some class pictures of the girls. Never got a reply. I never do.
This makes me so sad...
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I got it
For so very long, I toiled and despaired over my writing style. I finally understand it now though, how to tell my story without sticking to the formal writing styles. I need to do it my own way... express my thoughts and ideas in my own way. Write it and fuck it. It's what I do best.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The best nickname ever
I knew this guy who was always fishing for reassurances and compliments. One of the things that he use to seek reassurances for was the size of his manhood. I dated him for a while, and while I hadn't thought he was inadequate, he certainly wasn't - um, overwhelming. I never said anything about it, because 1. I didn't care 2. because I didn't think it was anyone's business.
Apparently, though, other women he dated didn't think so. Issues concerning his size became a topic of discussion on two separate occasions. Once to me, and once to her sister, at least that I know of. I didn't say anything about it for a while though. I never mentioned it to anyone. That is until her sister and I went drinking, and she let it slip about her sister's complaint about the size of his penis, and since I had dated him too, she asked if it was true. I laughed and laughed and laughed. At this point I was annoyed with him, and I have no sense of loyalty to him whatsoever, but I never brought it up. I just never said anything, when I figured out that his current girlfriend was a paranoid psycho. Too bad her sister is my closest friend. Hence, the reason I never said anything except to bitch about my own issues. So, after I got over my hysterical laughing fit, I calmed down and explained to her that if her sister was really that into him, then she woulda just kept her mouth shut. She took that as confirmation, and we laughed even harder.
As the behavior and false intimacy of the paranoid psycho and the fisher started getting more and more annoying and bizarre, we just let our guard down and let our sarcasm take over... and boy did we come up some great nicknames. The best of which was STD (Stupid Tiny Dick). It was our way of venting and expressing how betrayed we both felt by someone so inconsequential. The best part about it, though, is that the nickname is totally appropriate and accurate.
It's a good thing that we don't see him, and I no longer see her. Otherwise I'd forget to call him by his proper name, and just keep referring to him as STD. At the very least, however, I suppose he can consider his fishing quest complete... he's penis is small, it's not even average, and yeah...I lied, I did fake it, almost every time.
Apparently, though, other women he dated didn't think so. Issues concerning his size became a topic of discussion on two separate occasions. Once to me, and once to her sister, at least that I know of. I didn't say anything about it for a while though. I never mentioned it to anyone. That is until her sister and I went drinking, and she let it slip about her sister's complaint about the size of his penis, and since I had dated him too, she asked if it was true. I laughed and laughed and laughed. At this point I was annoyed with him, and I have no sense of loyalty to him whatsoever, but I never brought it up. I just never said anything, when I figured out that his current girlfriend was a paranoid psycho. Too bad her sister is my closest friend. Hence, the reason I never said anything except to bitch about my own issues. So, after I got over my hysterical laughing fit, I calmed down and explained to her that if her sister was really that into him, then she woulda just kept her mouth shut. She took that as confirmation, and we laughed even harder.
As the behavior and false intimacy of the paranoid psycho and the fisher started getting more and more annoying and bizarre, we just let our guard down and let our sarcasm take over... and boy did we come up some great nicknames. The best of which was STD (Stupid Tiny Dick). It was our way of venting and expressing how betrayed we both felt by someone so inconsequential. The best part about it, though, is that the nickname is totally appropriate and accurate.
It's a good thing that we don't see him, and I no longer see her. Otherwise I'd forget to call him by his proper name, and just keep referring to him as STD. At the very least, however, I suppose he can consider his fishing quest complete... he's penis is small, it's not even average, and yeah...I lied, I did fake it, almost every time.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Annie Sprinkle
I recently picked up season 4 of Weeds. I'm too cheap to pay for the HBO/Showtime subscription, so I love TV shows on DVD. Anyway, Nancy was having a conversation with her sons and she quoted Annie Sprinkle!
I haven't thought of Annie Sprinkle in forever! I was 14 years old when I first read about Annie Sprinkle in a underground magazine. I can't quite remember the name of the magazine, but they had a "Gross Issue". It was thee most awesome issue ever in the history of publications. There was a column that told EMT's stories, and all the gory scenes and accidents that EMT's had to answer in emergency situations. Which was told in very graphic and explicit detail. It was awesome. There was editorial and feature stories about exhibitionists and fetishes. It wasn't porno. It was more like beyond porno. I am so the type of person that loves knowing all this stuff.
Well, Annie Sprinkle definitely was into weird shit (literally). She was a performance artist. The magazine ran an editorial about her, I think it was back in 1991. She talked about some of her performance art shows... people would pay to watch her have her period, she would make weird concoctions of meats and fruits (pretty much anything you can find) throw them in a blender and put them in a one of those icing bags, squeeze it into her ass, shit back out in pie crust, and eat it....ahahahaha.
That woman is hilarious. She's a former prostitute, porn star, PhD in sexology, and artist. I think they also did one of the HBO sex specials on her. She's extreme, she's funny, and she's honest.
I think it's good to have this kind of honesty around. More harm comes from ignoring things you wish didn't exist or don't want to acknowledge or understand, then it is to just confront it. Sex is one of those things for a lot of people. Just because you don't acknowledge something doesn't mean it doesn't exist, or that it can't affect you. It's better to deal with things head on and treat it with a little hearted sense of humor (within reason of course, like all consenting adults, no one gets hurt kind of thing). As disgusted as you might be about people like Annie Sprinkle... I think there are far far worse things brewing below the surface of normal conventional people. At the very least she makes me laugh. That goes a long way for me.
I haven't thought of Annie Sprinkle in forever! I was 14 years old when I first read about Annie Sprinkle in a underground magazine. I can't quite remember the name of the magazine, but they had a "Gross Issue". It was thee most awesome issue ever in the history of publications. There was a column that told EMT's stories, and all the gory scenes and accidents that EMT's had to answer in emergency situations. Which was told in very graphic and explicit detail. It was awesome. There was editorial and feature stories about exhibitionists and fetishes. It wasn't porno. It was more like beyond porno. I am so the type of person that loves knowing all this stuff.
Well, Annie Sprinkle definitely was into weird shit (literally). She was a performance artist. The magazine ran an editorial about her, I think it was back in 1991. She talked about some of her performance art shows... people would pay to watch her have her period, she would make weird concoctions of meats and fruits (pretty much anything you can find) throw them in a blender and put them in a one of those icing bags, squeeze it into her ass, shit back out in pie crust, and eat it....ahahahaha.
That woman is hilarious. She's a former prostitute, porn star, PhD in sexology, and artist. I think they also did one of the HBO sex specials on her. She's extreme, she's funny, and she's honest.
I think it's good to have this kind of honesty around. More harm comes from ignoring things you wish didn't exist or don't want to acknowledge or understand, then it is to just confront it. Sex is one of those things for a lot of people. Just because you don't acknowledge something doesn't mean it doesn't exist, or that it can't affect you. It's better to deal with things head on and treat it with a little hearted sense of humor (within reason of course, like all consenting adults, no one gets hurt kind of thing). As disgusted as you might be about people like Annie Sprinkle... I think there are far far worse things brewing below the surface of normal conventional people. At the very least she makes me laugh. That goes a long way for me.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Unblocking writer's block
I've read more than a dozen books in a period of 3 months. I've been trying really hard to read everything I can to keep my mind open and going while I write my book. I'm writing fiction, so I read non-fiction, memoirs, fantasy/sci-fi novels, mysteries, newspapers, magazines, young adult novels, children's books, poetry, philosophy, plays... jesus, I think I read more in the last few months than I did my entire college career.
My book is progressing, and evolving. I know the story, and I now how to write it. It's just hard sometimes to sort it out in a descriptive way. I worry about little things, like am I moving too quickly, am I not moving fast enough, does this need to be developed more. I think it about constantly, and it's the only thing on my mind. I swear if this was a man, I'd would have been obsessed and arrested for stalking. I don't know how Nikolai puts up with me and my inability to move away from my computer and office for 12 hours out of the day. I only really stop to eat, work-out, and sleep. There are occasions when I realize I hadn't left the house in days. How sad is that?
Despite this commitment I've made to myself, the distractions are endless. Children are too fun to just keep writing non-stop sometimes. They crack me up. Malena, she's got free dress this week and she has been doing such a good job accessorizing her outfits with scarves and boots...hehehehe. Layla? She's just awesome and hilarious all the way around. So, the writing isn't moving as quickly as I would like, but I'm getting there.
Sucks having writer's block for the last 2 weeks. I think I'm good now though. I finished another chapter, and am excited to get to the next. I usually have this big conclusion at the end of my entries, but I think I'm just trying to sort out what I'm doing, remember why I'm doing it, and keep on doing it. Seems self defeating to write about having writer's block, but there you have it...I'm self defeating.
My book is progressing, and evolving. I know the story, and I now how to write it. It's just hard sometimes to sort it out in a descriptive way. I worry about little things, like am I moving too quickly, am I not moving fast enough, does this need to be developed more. I think it about constantly, and it's the only thing on my mind. I swear if this was a man, I'd would have been obsessed and arrested for stalking. I don't know how Nikolai puts up with me and my inability to move away from my computer and office for 12 hours out of the day. I only really stop to eat, work-out, and sleep. There are occasions when I realize I hadn't left the house in days. How sad is that?
Despite this commitment I've made to myself, the distractions are endless. Children are too fun to just keep writing non-stop sometimes. They crack me up. Malena, she's got free dress this week and she has been doing such a good job accessorizing her outfits with scarves and boots...hehehehe. Layla? She's just awesome and hilarious all the way around. So, the writing isn't moving as quickly as I would like, but I'm getting there.
Sucks having writer's block for the last 2 weeks. I think I'm good now though. I finished another chapter, and am excited to get to the next. I usually have this big conclusion at the end of my entries, but I think I'm just trying to sort out what I'm doing, remember why I'm doing it, and keep on doing it. Seems self defeating to write about having writer's block, but there you have it...I'm self defeating.
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