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Where's my tiara, bitch?
May. 5th, 2001 12:30 amWee Heather took the Slut test this evening
and got 67%. Which means I'm sluttier than
she is. Do I get a sparkly crown and a scepter
now? I would like that.
The move into the new apartment is tomorrow
and I'm dreading it. Not because of the
new place, but because of the move itself.
Moving is an extremely stressful event that
I have put myself through more times than
I'd care to even count.
I'm just hoping that it won't be sinister hot
like it was yesterday. Or I shall be a very
unhappy girl.
I get my own space, however. Albeit a thirty
six inch wide space. That was not a typo. I
said inch. It's a very large hall closet. About
nine feet long. And thirty six inches wide
(I measured). But, it has a door and it's own
light. And I can do whatever I want with it.
Which sure as hell beats sleeping on a couch
like I have been doing for the past ten months.
Sleeping on a couch and having absolutely
no privacy whatsoever.
I didn't speak with Richard today and I
reckon that I won't be for the next couple of
days, at least until I get the computer hooked
back up. He sent me a few emails this evening,
but by the time I'd gotten home from all
my travels, he'd gone offline. He doesn't
seem to recognise the fact how unhappy I am
right now. Which bothers me, to a certain
degree.
The other night, I was crying on the phone
to him. Absolutely sobbing. And he just doesn't
see why. He thinks it's all his fault, that
somehow he's the horrible person doing these
things to me. That he's a let down and a
disappointment.
But, in reality-he's just not attentive. Which
I need tremendously. Not only that, but he's
done fuck all for getting back to me. Or getting
me to him. It's always "Things will work out."
or alternatively "Everything will be okay. It
has to be."
Where in the world is there a written law that
if you love someone, nothing will hold you back?
Bollocks. Bad things happen to good people. And
I'm not even necessarily a good person, by all
rights. I've done horrible things to other
members of the human race. Things which keep me
awake at night because I can't stop thinking
about them.
Every time I bring up possible solutions to
our problem, the Immigration problem, he
drags his feet. Which is a new reaction. Before,
it was "whatever it takes". Now, it's "I'm
afraid". There's always a new problem or trouble
with his father's business or Bena's slashing
herself up and needs his help.
Fuck. That.
He's supposed to be in love with me.
Sometimes, and only sometimes, I doubt this.
I don't like feeling this way.
and got 67%. Which means I'm sluttier than
she is. Do I get a sparkly crown and a scepter
now? I would like that.
The move into the new apartment is tomorrow
and I'm dreading it. Not because of the
new place, but because of the move itself.
Moving is an extremely stressful event that
I have put myself through more times than
I'd care to even count.
I'm just hoping that it won't be sinister hot
like it was yesterday. Or I shall be a very
unhappy girl.
I get my own space, however. Albeit a thirty
six inch wide space. That was not a typo. I
said inch. It's a very large hall closet. About
nine feet long. And thirty six inches wide
(I measured). But, it has a door and it's own
light. And I can do whatever I want with it.
Which sure as hell beats sleeping on a couch
like I have been doing for the past ten months.
Sleeping on a couch and having absolutely
no privacy whatsoever.
I didn't speak with Richard today and I
reckon that I won't be for the next couple of
days, at least until I get the computer hooked
back up. He sent me a few emails this evening,
but by the time I'd gotten home from all
my travels, he'd gone offline. He doesn't
seem to recognise the fact how unhappy I am
right now. Which bothers me, to a certain
degree.
The other night, I was crying on the phone
to him. Absolutely sobbing. And he just doesn't
see why. He thinks it's all his fault, that
somehow he's the horrible person doing these
things to me. That he's a let down and a
disappointment.
But, in reality-he's just not attentive. Which
I need tremendously. Not only that, but he's
done fuck all for getting back to me. Or getting
me to him. It's always "Things will work out."
or alternatively "Everything will be okay. It
has to be."
Where in the world is there a written law that
if you love someone, nothing will hold you back?
Bollocks. Bad things happen to good people. And
I'm not even necessarily a good person, by all
rights. I've done horrible things to other
members of the human race. Things which keep me
awake at night because I can't stop thinking
about them.
Every time I bring up possible solutions to
our problem, the Immigration problem, he
drags his feet. Which is a new reaction. Before,
it was "whatever it takes". Now, it's "I'm
afraid". There's always a new problem or trouble
with his father's business or Bena's slashing
herself up and needs his help.
Fuck. That.
He's supposed to be in love with me.
Sometimes, and only sometimes, I doubt this.
I don't like feeling this way.
Kicking against the pricks
Apr. 23rd, 2001 10:15 pmWhen some people are depressed, they eat.
Some people drink alcohol.
Some people drown their sorrows in drugs.
Or sex.
Me?
I buy books.
Though, for once, I had the money to buy
as many books as I pleased. So I bought
four of them. Totaling $70.19.
These should last me about five days, really.
I bought:
*The Annotated HP Lovecraft (I'd read
the second in this series and liked it).
*More Pricks than Kicks by Samuel Beckett.
*Perfido Street Station by China Mieville (he
wrote King Rat. I'm obsessed with this book.)
*and a retelling of the Snow White story
by Tanith Lee (the title is escaping me
at the moment and I can't be bothered to walk
the ten paces into the other room to check
the cover).
Wee Heather drove. Dav sat in the back.
He and I bumped into each other during the
book store hunt to compare finds. He showed
me his armful of possible buys which included
books by Satre, Camus, and Wilde. I teased
him by saying they were all 'smart guy' books.
When I showed him my handful, he remarked
that they were all 'goth girl' books.
*laughs*
I'm still feeling out of sorts, I don't think
this is a state that I'm going to quickly pass
through. I bought a calling card and rang
Richard as soon as I got home, since we hadn't
spoken in a quite a few days.
Being that the time difference is five hours
apart, he was long in bed and I woke him.
The phone call was only five minutes long
and I'm once again left with an uneasy
pit in my stomach.
Today on alt.gothic, I read a post by a girl
named Kris. It was all about how she's come
to the realisation that the relationship she is
in just isn't going anywhere, despite how much
she loves the other person. It was about her
decisions and thoughts of breaking this off
because love just isn't always the binding
force between two people. That sometimes it's
just not enough.
I cried after I read it. It strikes me home in
so many differing ways. Though I'm not entirely
sure if it's a replica of what I'm going through
right now or not. In some ways, I just want
to give up my fight. Just lay down and die.
In regards to my relationship with Richard as
well as every other problem in my life.
There's so much pain involved in everything and
I'm really not all that strong of a person,
despite the horrid events that have transpired
in my life. No matter what anyone else says about
me, I am very weak and easily led by my emotions.
I'm not a logic-based life form.
And then in some other ways, I never want to give
up. I want to keep fighting. Struggle through
my problems with Richard and immigration. Beat
back all the difficulty of my schizophrenia
and depression. Ignore the nastiness of my job
and living situation.
But, those things /hurt./ And quite badly.
I bear enough scars from all the other fights in
my life. Self inflicted and otherwise. I'm
not sure if I want more to add to my collection.
Or if I can survive more.
Some people drink alcohol.
Some people drown their sorrows in drugs.
Or sex.
Me?
I buy books.
Though, for once, I had the money to buy
as many books as I pleased. So I bought
four of them. Totaling $70.19.
These should last me about five days, really.
I bought:
*The Annotated HP Lovecraft (I'd read
the second in this series and liked it).
*More Pricks than Kicks by Samuel Beckett.
*Perfido Street Station by China Mieville (he
wrote King Rat. I'm obsessed with this book.)
*and a retelling of the Snow White story
by Tanith Lee (the title is escaping me
at the moment and I can't be bothered to walk
the ten paces into the other room to check
the cover).
Wee Heather drove. Dav sat in the back.
He and I bumped into each other during the
book store hunt to compare finds. He showed
me his armful of possible buys which included
books by Satre, Camus, and Wilde. I teased
him by saying they were all 'smart guy' books.
When I showed him my handful, he remarked
that they were all 'goth girl' books.
*laughs*
I'm still feeling out of sorts, I don't think
this is a state that I'm going to quickly pass
through. I bought a calling card and rang
Richard as soon as I got home, since we hadn't
spoken in a quite a few days.
Being that the time difference is five hours
apart, he was long in bed and I woke him.
The phone call was only five minutes long
and I'm once again left with an uneasy
pit in my stomach.
Today on alt.gothic, I read a post by a girl
named Kris. It was all about how she's come
to the realisation that the relationship she is
in just isn't going anywhere, despite how much
she loves the other person. It was about her
decisions and thoughts of breaking this off
because love just isn't always the binding
force between two people. That sometimes it's
just not enough.
I cried after I read it. It strikes me home in
so many differing ways. Though I'm not entirely
sure if it's a replica of what I'm going through
right now or not. In some ways, I just want
to give up my fight. Just lay down and die.
In regards to my relationship with Richard as
well as every other problem in my life.
There's so much pain involved in everything and
I'm really not all that strong of a person,
despite the horrid events that have transpired
in my life. No matter what anyone else says about
me, I am very weak and easily led by my emotions.
I'm not a logic-based life form.
And then in some other ways, I never want to give
up. I want to keep fighting. Struggle through
my problems with Richard and immigration. Beat
back all the difficulty of my schizophrenia
and depression. Ignore the nastiness of my job
and living situation.
But, those things /hurt./ And quite badly.
I bear enough scars from all the other fights in
my life. Self inflicted and otherwise. I'm
not sure if I want more to add to my collection.
Or if I can survive more.
