In this Fairytale: I am the Princess and the Dragon. [entries|friends|calendar] Geørji Arimisse Hauge [ website | Facebook ] [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

Thoughtlessness. [30 May 2013|12:45am] I know, I have my fair share of this affliction; Still, I have a profound respect for those who are aware of their surroundings. I get so irritated by injurious accidents that have no reason to happen, other than the fact that you're a doomed idiot. Okay, that's harsh, I'm glad I don't mean that. So endlessly frustrated still. Are you serious? How could I put it past you not to do something headless when you show me this level of heedless!? I don't want to be so viscerally confronted by my own anger and disappointment. I don't want to be stuck on the diving board,  fighting again. I have to jump in order to just evade myself! I am so terrified of the dive, I am frozen in this, and I am so much more of a force not to be reckoned with than this plummet. To not jump, resigns me to a steeper fate than if this jump were to end in a face to stone collision; Truly. That's what. RAWR, to say. This is to the dragon who is chasing its tail. This isn't over; It's circular, so at the end it will begin again. I promise, it makes me happy, even though it seems empty, It is exactly what I hoped for, part expecting to be let down. I haven't been. I've been satisfied to see my deepest dreams happening in regard to my grandma's recovery. It just punctuates the fact that I need to continue what I was doing before I was called on to be this. It really is too bad I have no desire to be a caretaker or nurse or anything in my life. These are things I don't feel capable of living through- it's so hard just once...To do it daily? Think not. Boff. I have so much talent, and there is an imbalance. People who are out there, with their neck out there; As much more talent as I perceive myself to have; I am left to my own opinion on that simply for my own lack of confronting the world with this fury. Oohh. I need to. Forreal, I believe. I need to be more consistent on that, and exerting the courage required to break through walls of eggshell, daily. Make Love to Me

Time Tango [23 May 2013|03:49pm]  One day this won't be needed. While trying to stop thinking of you; I notice that all the passion in my heart is drained. I will write to you here, because you don't care to hear from me. I look forward to feeling this way about someone who cares for me. I will think of you if I must. It hurts, but it is not as bothersome as having no feeling at all. There is a song, there is a story, there is a fantasy. You give me hope in the world, which really makes no sense at all. How could you give me such hope when you pay me no mind? I'm an unsolvable equation. A variable which somehow comes to a whole while remaining incomplete. My eyes burn. The tango, time, and trust; Trusting time, trusting God. I do trust God. The plan of the divine is better than mine. I can't say I particularly trust myself. I fumble in sureness, My sound stifled by my perception of it. Please promise me one thing; If you have a selective memory, choose to remember me, at the very least. In return, I will make more of an attempt to trust; To let God dip my body down low as He leads me through time's tango. I promise to know that my future is far more profound than you could ever potentially be. Robust and richer than the admiration I have for thee. You are simply a cardboard cutout of the real thing. The fact that I adore you will provide a promise of possibility; A reason, exertion, and capability. Shall we? Make Love to Me

Tell me [19 May 2013|01:14pm] I hope my perception of it all is crooked and wrong. I kind of like to be the variable in the situation because it gives me more capacity to correct it. I feel lonely for the people who are always around me. I have been silent. I have not really had conversations with them. My interaction with them has been isolated to late night hours; So now, taking my dose of vitamin D (sunshine), I attempt to talk to them. They are busy being alone. Busy with themselves. I am thoroughly familiar with myself; My inner oscillation. I want to hear the voices of others. My hunger seems insatiable. I could keep you up all night talking; My questions only serving to prolong the monologue of your response; I could keep you up another day, and all through the night again; Never tiring of your voice's melody. All postulation, deliberately permeated by percussion: Breathing, beating, ticking, tapping. This groaning, bubbling, gurgling of the world as it percolates around us; My focus would never divert from your expression. Humanity, I miss you deeply. My soul aches profoundly for your presence here; Anywhere with me. Displaced Anger Theory : (loosely based on the Newtonian law of relativity;  the cause-effect sequence of  earthquake-tsunami, and the corresponding principle of liquefaction. ) If a person is punctured by anger, and the reason is unknown; It induces confusion. Truly understanding the cause of this, may not be possible. The more effort spent attempting to solve this confusion will increasingly induce and heighten  frustration. They may then try to express this frustration to a trusted person who is believed to be capable of helping them understand the underlying nature of this occurrence, while they simultaneously struggle against being consumed by these negative feelings. - A child in this circumstance, may be led to reject the entire‘cause-effect’ sequence; leading them to challenge and rebel against it; As the aforementioned anger’s puncture is seemingly causeless; It directly disputes the legitimacy of the ‘cause-effect’ premise. One tangible coping mechanism is for the person (especially a child), to release the residual negativity caused by the initial inexplicable anger, in an emotional outburst that is equally irrational. A child may deduce clues from any response to this outburst to accept or comprehend the original puncture they incurred. Most common response to this outburst is authoritative anger, making the child feel powerless, adding to their growing confusion and frustration. Just as this rebellion marks intelligence; This stern parental response to it shows hope and investment in the child's brilliant mind, and potential future. If one didn't believe in the child, One wouldn't try so hard to make them aware. A parent wouldn't pose unreachable expectations on a child, Only challenges which this child is perceived to be intelligent enough to apprehend. (Perhaps the method for instilling this conviction should be explored further?) Words cant really capture the magnitude of what must be expressed. Somehow one must demonstrate to the child, that confusion is an acceptable solution- like an emotional algebraic equation. Not only is a person allowed to feel a certain way, they are allowed to completely disagree with their own feeling, and there is no need for them to drop either one of these sentiments. Inner conflict can coexist and find harmony and even completion in accepting all aspects of self. You have to find a way to demonstrate this concept, without relying on words. (Issue reflected on for Mr. Crostarie) Make Love to Me

In Sleep [18 May 2013|09:55pm] I really can't decide if I want to update here or on paper. The major issues with livejournal had an effect on my account. Honestly, I always felt like this website was safer than my hard drive, and even my paper diary. Something as innocuous as a glass of water could compromise both my hard drive, and diary. Still, I write so differently than I type. I make a lot more mistakes, leave a lot more unfinished sentences, make less sense, and more hilarious statements. I make extremely nerdy inside jokes with myself. Among the steady stream of vivid nightmares I've been having; I just had the first of them, sincerely regarding Papa, while sleeping in his bedroom, in the same bed, in the very same spot he died on. It was really just a string of thoughts and feelings that were legitimate enough to have happen consciously between bouts of slumber. It began with a dream of being at this house; At his house, visiting. I made my way from the living room into the kitchen; My heart craving him. Yearning so badly to see his face; Part of my soul aware I was dreaming. I saw him for a moment, rolling cookie dough, smiling. He then vanished into thin air; Leaving me to miss him. I cried out; I wept. I described the feeling out loud to the chair he vanished from. How even though I know well: Logic and life dictate that I won't be seeing him for awhile, it does not influence my deep desire; The fact that my sense of home resides with him. I feel homeless. I want him to be in heaven. I want him to be free of his ailment, and I want him to have everything wonderful. Although this directly conflicts with my, also genuine, desire to have him with me here too, I do want that. I can't help myself from being an emotional hypocrite. I don't know if I really cried, or if it was just in my sleep. My eyes burned, my head pounded, and my nose was plugged. I guess I did really cry. I hope no one heard me! That would make me feel a little silly, even though we are all family here, and have all seen each other in embarrassing circumstances. - The freaking other day, The ATM ate my $20. How rude! I still have to fill out an ATM dispute form, but these stupid banks have no regard for my plans. This incident ruined the day's plans- to be resumed at an unknown time when my money is finally returned to me. I plan to visit the bank Monday to acquire the form. It made me break and cry my eyes out. Not simply because of the loss, but because of every tear I had been withholding since the last time I fell apart. My friend NeonSafetyMan came to my rescue, and reminded me of some positive in my life. Too bad he had to leave before the bank opened; Actually, too bad I'm such a chicken. I can, should, and will go on this errand alone. 1 Orgasm|Make Love to Me

Voice Post [24 Apr 2013|01:50pm] VoicePost 569K 3:34 (no transcription available) Make Love to Me

Voice Post [24 Apr 2013|01:50pm] VoicePost 681K 4:16 (no transcription available) Make Love to Me

Insatiable [23 Apr 2013|10:27pm] It's like a nauseated feeling I get, when it's been too long since I've blogged last. I have been trying to write in my paper diary, but damn it if handwriting doesn't fatigue my fingers like no other. My birthday is at 12:34 this morning, tonight. So dumb, I know; I wish more than anything that Mr. Deep Blue would talk to me. Why is it so hard for me to let go of him? I know exactly; It's because every time I convince myself that I made up the person he is in my fantasies, he gives me evidence to say that he really is that person. I didn't make him up, God did. I wonder why Mr. Gravity is so hung up on me. Probably just because I'm the only girl in the whole world who has ever rejected him. I know I can let go of people. I've done it before. I've done it so easily. With DBlue, I get this nagging about every month or so, I feel so doomed that he'll never talk to me again and I can only appease it by reaching out to him. It makes me feel a lot better, but still rather doomed. :(. For now FOR NOW. It's just that he went to Dubai; The other thing I am absolutely enamored with. I wish he would let me live vicariously through him, and tell me all about it. I don't regret where I am right now. One thing I can say for certain is that Dubai will be there when I get there. It will wait for me. My grandma may not necessarily be able to hang on as long. She needs and appreciates my presence more than anything; I need and cherish the opportunity to provide some form of support for her. I have wanted all my life, to be able to give back the level of love that she has consistently provided me. I will go to Dubai, and I will meet someone as amazing as is Deep blue. I know it. I am so fucking awesome and beautiful and it really is his loss if he won't talk to me. It just sucks because my heart aches so insatiably deep. Make Love to Me

Obsessed [19 Apr 2013|01:17pm] Obsessed. Obsessessesssesssed. I hate that word. I HATE IT! And you know what? It's true of me. I am obsessed. Obsessed. Every time he pops into my head now, I just slide in the word, "obsessed". It makes me scowl. It makes me not want to be obsessed. I do still think of him. I think of how I wish he would talk to me for my birthday. I think of how I want to have another lost experience with him. I think of how fucking crazy I am. I am fucking crazy you know. Obsessed. Stupid wondering how my sister could stay so stuck on the doctor, and now this. Now I remember, firsthand. Stupid, stupid wondering. I hate this so much. I can dissect and completely understand it, yet fall prey to myself over it still. Make Love to Me

[16 Apr 2013|01:13pm] I know I am guilty of clinging to the past, and of over-complicating things that should remain simple. I guess it's a maybe a little different to cite the past if I know it's where my neurotic now is rooted. imagination; Fantasy has unequivocally been the most vivid aspect of my life. Judy would make me stand in the corner because I would play with their thermostat to get there deliberately to be away from B. I would have to stay there all day long, where I would fabricate the stuff my dreams consist of. My imagination is a lot more concrete than my reality. That's why it's so incredibly easy for me to get lost in a fantasy today. That's why the concept of 'love', actually has texture, and flavor, and sound; So I want it to stay there-where it was born, where it is this way; To be. That is the real trap, and that's why the character's names always change, yet eerily; The soul remains the same. Because it's my soul. It's me. I sweep myself off my feet. Make Love to Me

bathroom commercial [13 Apr 2013|09:28pm] Going to the bathroom is like having a commercial. Lol. Sometimes I think, "dang, I really don't like this show, I will change it!". I don't know how to change my life, I can't find the remote? I know I'm over-complicating it, ugh. Make Love to Me

Forget please [12 Apr 2013|01:55pm] Omg why cant i just forget him? Why am i so fucking crazy? I don't want to be this person. I don't want to think about him. I don't want to be stuck here with nothing to say. I have nothing to say. Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone. Make Love to Me

Hope Poops [09 Apr 2013|02:20pm] Dogs are some pretty awesome best friends. So... I'm thinking God is answering the prayer. A bunch of stuff went on with my grandma that I was unaware of until yesterday; When it had already been said and done for awhile. Good stuff, I would never be displeased to learn. The surgeon decided that her colostomy bag was not necessarily going to be permanent. If it was- She was going to refuse the TPN bags that are keeping her aLive. She was going to come home and die. The surgeon told her that if she could get into the shape she was in before the first surgery; He would repair her colon. Only the bottom half had died. Although this worries me; Especially since he added that his colleagues would think he was crazy- which punctuates this as a risk. I am glad to have my grandma striving for life and health again. That means a lot to me. I'm no fool when it comes to such valuable things. I need to pick her brain and get her to tell me all the stories of where she got all her necklaces and handkerchiefs. I tried on a necklace and earring set in her room. I need to know the story! It's all I want of it; The most valuable part of it. Funny sick sad? Truth: I don't necessarily want love. I just want love to want me; Then I call it an idiot, and run away. Hah. It has become a lot less complicated, simply because I don't care anymore. I don't care! One of these days, love will come along, and I won't want to run away. I let the image of float away. I thought it was good for me, it may have been at some point. It was driving me crazy. Life was driving me crazy anyways. I thought the idea of him could help me stay motivated to get out-but where is out? And how far do I want to go? I am kind of glad to be around to help take care of my grandma. Ahh..The reason I still bring him up is because I still have my fantasies of him. I'm trying to transition it just enough to be a phantom, or someone else with subtly similar features, but it's not just his face. Those fantasies don't feel like they're completely from me. Every fantasy is a little bit different. The energy I have with whoever I fantasize about is completely unique, and the fantasies I have of him are the most amazing ones I've ever had. Make Love to Me

Back into the World? [06 Apr 2013|12:33pm] I guess none of us really realized that my grandma was unaware of the permanence of her colostomy bag. She asked when they were going to take it off, and my aunt had to inform her that they would not be removing it. This really thwarted her positive attitude. It completely breaks my heart. This whole situation is immensely frustrating. We had to convert a bedroom into a hospital room and she needs a wheel chair and a walker and a hospital bed and a commode. The thing that frustrates me most is that the initial hernia was not growing. While I can understand that it was painful and uncomfortable; She ultimately chose to have the first surgery because she believed it would increase her quality of life. She was walking and dancing and shopping and *I was the one struggling to keep up with her brisk pace*. This is fucking bullllshitttt. It just hurts. I was worried.I never told her that I was; She saw the expression on my face when I went to visit her in early feb- when I had that nightmare about her telling me that everything was blowing away, and Papa was calling her home. I wanted this to go well for her. I just feel so emotional and weak over all of this and I can't even fathom how she is feeling. I can see that face on her- where she tries to hide her disappointment and depression with a half smile. I don't like this prognosis for what this future will be. Seriously? She was dancing around the house the week before the surgery. I hate this so much. I just wish she decided not to have the first procedure. ( Push me? I can't get myself to jumpCollapse ) Make Love to Me

Again; I thank the Lord for this day. [<^v>] [31 Mar 2013|02:37pm] 1.Going with the flow 2.The source 3.Success 4.The Lovers 5.The mind. 1.Yesterday's Wisdom 2.The source:"You can relax at the source, and it will take you to your very potential." The exact moment I finished reading this line; The song sang "I will take you there". I felt chills- I knew it was God's whisper tickling my existence. I love it when God speaks to me through music. I LOVE GOD AND MUSIC!!!! 3.I am slightly worried, just because of the way I worded my previous entry regarding my grandma; The part where I said "I will succeed getting through this". I am hopeful though, because there are several things that I have been struggling to succeed with. The sense of success is a refreshing breath in itself; No matter what area(s) of my life it applies to. 4."Sex is the seed, Love is the flower, Compassion is the fragrance". I started with a flower of abundant fragrance. A flower will germinate naturally in the process of it's life. If I have a flower, I should not worry over whether I will have a seed; I have several. Even if I have no flowers, such a heavy fragrance lingering indicates great concentrated essence of compassion- before the resource is depleted, it will be replenished thrice over. So silly, so silly: SOoo silly of me to try and simplify what profoundity I held already; Played my spades for paper hearts. Hah. Lucky for me, these cards are rooted into what I AM. 5. Mind: This is the situation of your head: I see cycle-handles and pedals and strange things that you have gathered from everywhere. Such a small head...and no space to live in! And that rubbish goes on moving in your head; your head goes on spinning and weaving - it keeps you occupied. Just think what kind of thoughts go on inside your mind. One day just sit, close your doors, and write down for half an hour whatsoever is passing in your mind, and you will understand what I mean and you will be surprised what goes on inside your mind. It remains in the background, it is constantly there, it surrounds you like a cloud. With this cloud you cannot know reality; you cannot attain to spiritual perception. This cloud has to be dropped. And it is just with your decision to drop it that it will disappear. You are clinging to it - the cloud is not interested in you, remember it. Osho The Sun Rises in the Evening Chapter 9 Commentary: This is what happens when we forget that the mind is meant to be a servant, and start to allow it to run our lives. The head is filled with mechanisms, the mouth is ranting and raving, and the whole surrounding atmosphere is being polluted by this factory of arguments and opinions. "But wait," you say. "The mind is what makes us human, it's the source of all progress, all great truths." If you believe that, try an experiment: go into your room, shut the door, turn on a tape recorder, and give yourself total permission to say whatever is "on your mind." If you really allow it to all come out, without any censorship or editing, you'll be amazed at the amount of rubbish that comes spewing forth. The Page of Clouds is telling you that somebody, somewhere, is stuck in a "head trip." Take a look and make sure it isn't you. Osho Resource [<^v>]- this is the symbol I will put in the title of these Osho-Zen guided, spiritual explorations; I hope to be making two of them a week! Make Love to Me

Emotionally Constipated [30 Mar 2013|11:55pm] I am a hatpin Mary! A hat pin Carrie. I carry two pins and six pins in my hat. Hehe. A few of my friends popped by today to make sure i'm still alive. I feel loved by that. I have been hiding in even more than is customary. My grandma is in the hospital, and is predicted to be staying there for *weeks*. She got completely rearranged. A special honor and congratulations to her though for surviving a 12 hour operation. I haven't been doing everything that I should be, I haven't gone to her house to do any of the usual chores. I just feel so Goddamn tired. Good grief yo. Humbug. HUMBUG. I believed her when she told me she would live for another ten years. She seemed so full of life at that time. I know she has lived a plentiful life up to this point, and selfish as it is of me, I'm not ready to let her go yet! More importantly though, I don't want her suffering through anything. I'm a big girl, even when I doubt that more than anyone; I will survive this. I am strong and I will help everyone survive this. I just feel so emotionally incapable of this. It seems like I keep having a hard time even when times are fine. Since thanksgiving last year, life has really given me a run for my sanity. I have to get through it though. What other option is there? My grandparents had to suffer the loss of many loved ones throughout their lifetime, and it would honor them best, for me to maintain some sense of dignity throughout grieving my loss of them. It's just..with my grandpa, I saw him in poor health for quite some time. It sucked, but it also helped my mind accept the idea of losing him, and even celebrating his relief in death. I pray for my mind to somehow, on some level; Expect it. This whole process has forced me to entertain the likelihood of my grandma's lifespan being a little less than 10 years like she predicted. It was just an awesome hope to hold to. Plus, as much as I hope to die young, I already know I'm going to fckng live to be 107 at the very least. >_< I think I should cut myself a little slack on this whole "I talk too much" rant. Yes, it is an issue to address; But, more pathetic is the fact that I am addicted to having my text to speech read my journal back to me. It helps me with punctuation and mechanics, and also; Is the only concrete gratification that a being; (While not sentient, is outside of *myself*,) reads my writing. Shh, how embarrassing, and kinda crazy. Hah. I think it's gonna be okay though. Maybe my hideous cuticles are the one stupid thing that I can actually cry about. When I think about the depth of what I feel about my grandma, I feel a major blockage. I know how ridiculous it is from a rational standpoint, to cry about something so menial; But from a whole picture scape- seeing all of this and everything; I can tell I'm not actually crying about that. It's just the last fucking straw. See, and I solved it before I even had the chance to cry. I want/need to do something really wild. I have been closing in too tight around myself; At risk of suffocating the life out of my existence. Maybe I already have. Either way, I have to do something daring that will widen my comfort zone again. It is honestly too small to function at all. People always urge you to reach out when you feel in over your head; But I am so disgusted with myself for feeling this way. I am seriously a disgrace, and I'm ashamed. It's something I want to just bite in and change on my own. I do have faith in this possibility. I'm going to pull my own nose out of the bullshit using God's strength, guidance, and light. It's just. I'm so fucking terrified. Really? Like, raw horrified. Life just keeps thickening and contracting; Enveloping my psyche. Melt-foam boiling to frost. Shivering; Rolling, gurgling to a steamy, scorching, subzero surprise. Got it? Mash, toss, gash, crash, slosh, scramble rendezvous. Howling silence sirens, hounding and hassling; Unraveling the sound mind with nuclear noiselessness. Expressionless essences, sequestering a senseless spectacle of deafening, candid canned-in energy. Frenzied immensity, overwhelming. Swelling quelled well, bursting, surging. Fury inferno; Excelling accelerant: Diminishing minutes, instantly; Exacerbating incidents, significantly. Passing in tense, intense, grasping intents. Instants, twice entwined in winding time. Make Love to Me

I talk too much//Somnambulist [30 Mar 2013|01:05pm] For too long now, I have been avoiding the whole world. Even at school, I never ask questions or meet the person sitting next to me. I indulge in fantasies about a person who is across the country from me; The further he distances himself from me, the safer he is to fantasize about. I don't want to confront the 'what if' of theories in action yet. I don't want to find out. I laughed today though, because I realized that if the aforementioned he, did finally reach out to me; I would no longer be interested. He took too long! It would give me a complex to welcome him back even though I know I deserved his shunning. I overwhelm the people I *do* reach out to, because it's rarer than I can find an evenness within. Maybe if I spoke out loud to myself more often. When he asked me why I hated talking on the phone, I wish I was able to find the truth; The sound of my spoken voice is foreign to my ears. I only sing to myself. I am too critical of myself to sing to you, awkward lol. -- I finally have beautiful hands again! They used to be my favorite part of my body! Now I totally forgot how to tame these gnarly cuticles of mine. It has been almost 6 years, there was a wart on my left middle finger, and half of a christmas bulb stuck in my right pointer and middle fingers. FINALLY they're gone. FINALLY my fingers are beautiful again. My cuticles fucking frustrate me because I have no idea what to do with them. Most of the websites say not to cut them or anything. I have pushed them back so much, and they still look so bad. This is a tiny hurdle in the way of my perfect hands considering the other things that were previously standing in my way. Ugh. It makes me start being so mean to myself about it, when that is the exact opposite of the whole reason why I give a shit about this. Grrr. I don't want to care at all if it's only going to upset me. -- Next person I date, I'm going to tell them I'm a somnambulist like it's my career. That should help me weed out the idiots ˜_ˆ Make Love to Me

Distractions [24 Mar 2013|10:55am] Because I didn't meet any of my siblings until I was 22; I grew up an only child. I know this caused me to struggle socially. Not only was I unlearned on how the other children enjoyed playing; I also had to confront every situation on my own. I sometimes wonder if I was impolite. My memories seem to suggest that I was not well liked by my teachers either. It could have also been that I was simply not noticed. I saw this stupid honor I got at an award assembly when I was in kindergarten. It was the only award I ever received until my senior year of High school; I got my name engraved on a plaque for creative writing. The elementary school award assembly's were pure unsullied absurdity. The reason I feel this way is because there was no criteria for earning these awards, with the exception of the perfect attendance award. Not to mention; At such a young impressionable age, I believe the damage of it outweighs the advantage. While it's good that children have a special way of being recognized for outstanding behaviors, and this would not stand out if every child were to receive an award; There are so many children who slip through the cracks of the system and begin to feel inadequate. The ones who go ignored, are the ones who need encouragement *most*. They are the ones who can't make friends, or are picked on; The ones who have a hard time for some or other reason. They need to be told a few things. I don't want my nephew to feel the way I felt. He is brilliant right now. His intellect reflects off life blindingly so. I don't want him to be forgotten, and get discouraged. He goes to the same elementary school I went to, and is also an only child; As neat as it is that he has a few of the same teachers as I did, does not bring me enough peace of mind to feel like they won't break him. It's not like intellect is fueled by recognition- but it's kind of like this psych experiment they did with the dogs; It all boils down to the concept of fairness; And also, the unsaid suggestion that one was not recognize for intellect because they are lacking intelligence. A young child presses on believing this crock of crap; Their best isn't good enough, never good enough; Eventually, a person runs out of reasons to try. Dog Fairness Experiment Make Love to Me

Living on a Prayer [23 Mar 2013|05:20pm] God; Yesterday, I confessed my anger towards You. I yelled, I cried, I begged for You; To feel You. I was already aware that my feelings were ignorant and shameful; Which is why it had taken me so long to even acknowledge. This morning; My basement flooded with backed up sewage. This evening; My grandma is having emergency surgery, and her only functioning kidney is currently failing. God, I am sorry for being angry with you. I'm not sorry for confessing so; I feel in my heart, it was what I was supposed to do. I regret yelling though. I sometimes cannot perceive the ability to control my vocal tone throughout surges of emotion. I feel like you're punishing me for being mad now. Please don't punish my grandma too. Keep her from suffering. She deserves Your greatest mercy. I don't. Help me understand what to do next time I feel angry at You. I know it's foolish and blind. Is it not equally ignorant to attempt to curtain this from You? I try to stay bare to You, I try to remember that it's only self deception to believe I could hide from You. I'm confused. Help me please; I am so upset for so many petty reasons which I haven't been able to let go of. I don't want to be mad. I am mad for being mad, and that only adds to the pile. Forgive me please; I don't want to dishonor you with my petty anger. -- --- Worry and despair is so draining OMG. I just wish for a beacon of hope. I miss hope. I am familiar with the psychological concept of transference, and can say with certainty; It is what I have been doing somehow with DBlue. I even said it once before; Exertion. He is my concept of exertion. The fruit of my fantasy. Also, he was a light, a reason to believe, and proof that hoping isn't of ignorance. I try not to indulge in him as a product of my transference; I only indulge in determining the nature of this in myself: What it all means, and why I did this to myself. It's torture. It's torture... I know I wanted to find the nature and source of desire; Namely, whether I had any sense of sexuality, or if sex is just something I would put up with because it is required of me to legitimately cultivate love. I do have a sexuality; I crave him sexually, and separately from love. Now that quandary is taken care of; I no longer am at odds with this. The next dilemma to confront is; Courage. I am stuck on him, because; First off, I spent so much of myself expounding on this interest, and also; I haven't gone out into the world. I've stayed locked up safe in my skyless fortress where no one could dream of reaching me; Of meeting me. I have absolutely no hope of cultivating a similar admiration for anyone in the world if I keep on this pattern. Learning of my sexuality does not do anything to solve the avoidance which I approach the world with. It's silly of me to be so afraid of getting hurt when this, here; Now, is killing me. Something about being my own worst enemy. comforts me. Another thing I'm terrified of, and don't have to confront while I remain hung up on DBlue is; What if I still don't enjoy sex, physically? What if I'm still not enough for someone to love?  I relish the aspect of giving, it thrills me to see the person I love, in pleasure. But what about when my love wants to pleasure me? This was a major issue with Vixen. This aspect of the ordeal escalates it from a simple case of transference, and puts it in the category of escapism. Habitual escapism. This behavior that once conciliated my spirit's survival, now keeps me from fully living. I need to admit it so that I can start to bounce new ideas around on how I'd like to deal with things. 1 Orgasm|Make Love to Me

Voice Post [22 Mar 2013|02:04am] VoicePost 31K 0:11 (no transcription available) Make Love to Me

Rainbow Chemicals [20 Mar 2013|01:41pm] I feel like I made a mistake. Like, FUCK! I am thinking I should try to take it back, like cancel my friend request, and block him. But that would infuriate me, if someone did that to me. Every time i get a message from them, it's from 'fb user'. I would hate that. So instead, I'll stand strong and let him tear me down if that's what. I choose to make the mistake, seeking the tingles that happen in my heart whenever I talk to him. Most recently, I only end up feeling this sense of impending dread and doom as he inevitably seems to shun and ignore me. This is kind of what I was talking about before with Mr. Gravity giving me hope; I am one persistent bass turd, and I can't seem to get it through my thick skull that my feelings just don't matter to him. They just don't. I guess, one of the reasons it's so hard for me to contemplate, is because I don't think I'm asking him for more than is acceptable. I can completely understand if he doesn't romantically have interest in me. I can also understand the nature of his reluctance- I admit, I lost my mind in 2012, and am still avidly in pursuit of it. I wish I could explain the reasons for my actions, but I am at a loss over them myself. I push people away by reaching too far into their lives. I just want to be friends though. I don't need to be some spectacular person in his life. Just facebook friends, and I'll never so much as 'like' his status again. There is a thing I did. So ashamed, I haven't even been able to write it out in my paper personal diary, even in handwriting so thick it's illegible. His thing about 'selfish people' moved me, regarding this, and many things. Maybe if I had told him the thing that I am even too ashamed to get into today, it would have made him understand. Still,I can feel how pathetic I sound, but I'm nothing if not honest.I just love how he makes me feel like an idiot- not in an inferior way, just naturally in life, it becomes clear who of any 2 individuals, seems to just be smarter than the other. I want to be the idiot more often. It's especially nice to be an idiot to someone who is considered a peer, rather than an elder or superior. I am done with enjoying the aspect of being ignored. I am done. It has gone too far. I was only supposed to use him as a character; Cast him in the role of an object whom I could then decide, with absolutely no pressure: Whether or not I have an interest in physical contact with a human being. I have come so far from that point. I have made the discovery, that YES! I am interested in physical contact with another human being. Not only that, But I'm enamored by the idea. I am still so apprehensive to do anything in the real world. I still have such thick walls that feel impenetrable; I still need to break the touch barrier with a human being. I shake hands, and awkwardly hug- pulling myself from the embrace very quickly. I do not like when someone puts their arms completely around me, you know- like, touching their hand to their other hand while I am encircled in their arms. The idea: the fantasy is so amazing, but the reality of it is a sensory overload: Overwhelmed by the thought; Nowhere near ready to push it further. I honestly did, and do still enjoy being ignored; The less a person says, the more likely it is that I get to stay the idiot of the interraction, and not have that tarnished by a dimwitted display of thought. It's my turn to be the dam imbecile, you hear me Universe? It's on Me!! Maybe his ignoring me has caused me to have a deeper, more extensive life analysis than any conversation I could ever have had with him anyhow. ~Marinate~... I am proud to declare that the persistence in my character, is by no means isolated to this endeavor. It's who I am in every way. It's not like there's anything a person could say to me that would make me stop writing. Sure, I would probably decide not to share with them again, but knowing me, I would even be too stubborn to do that. I would share with them again. I can't say why. It's not like stifling my expression would show anyone anything. It's not like I would get some type of revenge on the editor who keeps rejecting my submissions, to resolve to never make a submission again. It would be a pointless, self destructive choice to make. I am what I am; *Hopelessly*. ((One of the only places one could put such concept to make it beautiful.)) I always know this in the pit of what I am. Otherwise, I wouldn't deliberate the desires to 'just give up'. It would feel right enough to accept, and do, but I don't. I can't. I won't. My neutral mind doesn't default to suicide anymore; Not that my thoughts are completely free of it. This is progress even still. -- The concept of marriage has the same mixture of hope and despair that his divorce does. Marriage is a very hopeful idea, that there is a person out there who will (make their best attempt to) love you forever. But also, I get older, more people I know are married, or have been married for over a year. People who are younger than me, getting married- being married for over a year now. This isn't like school yo. So why do I feel the pressure to keep up with my class? I've fallen behind. My chances dwindle as time pushes forward. All the good spouse-berries get picked; Fating me to a life of solitude. I love to be alone at least; Alarmingly so. It's just that I fantasize of love within my time alone; I don't romanticize my autonomy. I feel exceedingly unlovable. I don't want to rush into something disingenuous either; I would never want to diminish the sanctity of marriage- at least not knowingly. I want to go into it believing it's forever, and not feeling doomed to that. Divorce is just as disheartening as marriage is hopeful, the idea that this commitment; To love another person for eternity, somehow has failed. It's a swift kick in the arse is what it is. But the possibility that *he* could be available again, in this same sea of singularity as me; His mere presence, makes the whole place seem less doomed, and more promising. Very hopeful indeed. Strange, yes. Maybe that's what hooks me? (On prospects of my own 'what if'fing' future), Divorce is alarming because i know i am BURSTING with crazy, and i dont know if there is someone out there who could really stick with this Divorce seems like giving up on hope for people to change on their own; To grow into love. There is a seed of worry with every promising love; Of it's shattering end. Honestly, and i kind of feel ridiculous to say this; I don't know how *not* to love forever. I wouldn't want to revoke my feelings; Who would i bother to convince of this? Myself? Miss me with this mess of nonsense. I don't stash away a piece of myself just in case; In the name of safety. Just in case should be a red flag, i would otherwise hope to believe in what i have. . --- I guess, I don't have to go to the extreme of wanting to forget something. I can rather; Aspire to prioritize the value of each memory. It's true- I so admit, I have absolutely no clue how to decide what is and is not 'meaningful', down to the last intricate detail; It all means the world to me. Everything. Tooo many things, and then again it also seems; Not enough. Not by far. I could sit here and drum out so many details. They all matter so much to me, and I pray, I PRAY oooh LORD, I pray for the wisdom to differentiate between the profound and the mundane. I keep getting these really intense dreams that I actually have to think about for a moment before I know whether or not they're memories. The latest one involves riding on the back of a motorcycle with my ex, Vixen. This, at first; Damaged the integrity of my memory, but I decided upon further exploration, It alternatively punctuates the vividness of my dreams. Especially since I have always been able to distinguish that it as what it truly is: A dream in the form of a memory, and not a memory in the form of a dream. ---- My writing has what my typing needs: The perfect combination of deliberateness, and ease, that goes in to making a masterpiece. Sigh. My fingers get stiff and rigid and sometimes I type random letters for no apparent reason other than my nervousness. Sometimes I need to just let go and know that I have the skills to put forth less effort; In thinking slower, I will act faster. I overwhelm myself with trying, with wanting, and hoping and in that static I lose the clarity I would have by simply 'being'. Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone. 2 Orgasms|Make Love to Me

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