I thought as much.
Nerdslut
What’s your sexual appeal?
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Thanks Bertie, for the diversion. Gawddamnit, I want those 5 minutes of my life back now, biyatch.
May 2003 Archive
It’s Official
In the Matrix
The four moods of Neo as enacted by Keanu Reeves.
1. Stoic/Kicking ass (sunglasses on)
2. Meditative (sunglasses off)
3. Confused (sunglasses off)
4. Horny (sunglasses and clothing off)
Alas, in the chase scenes, I couldn’t spot my car. Remember when I was an extra in it a while back?
Elsewhere in Nerderati
Fun new stuff.
Scott Andrew is my (other) nerdy/musical hero.
Check out BlogChatter pinging tools.
For the trully compulsive blogreader.
Exhausted
I am exhausted. Tired. Weary. I want to will the world to stop spinning.
I want the blood in my veins to stop racing. I want the cells in my body to stop breaking themselves apart and crashing to build themselves together again. I want to rest my eyes, allow a moment of sensory deprivation derived in absorbing only the thoughts that will mull every more slowly in my head in a very still bliss.
I want the hum of my computer to cease. I want my keyboard clicks to hush themselves. I want my finger tips to take rest.
No, I’m not taking a break from blogging. Been there, done that. I’m just feeling like there’s too much inside of me that’s rushing about that needs to sit for a moment To have slow, deep, breaths, and to allow myself a moment of just being.
I want to stop worrying about how negligent a friend I am for not emailing back to folks, or calling. I want to stop planning, and fussing, and doing, and griping, and grinding my teeth at the air that chooses to be more free than I, even from between my own lips.
I want to sit in my own cup of tea for a bit.
Stewing, from what I understand, is what folks refer to as my state of mind.
Perhaps, but that doesn’t sound quite right either.
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Thoughts on Family
So mother’s day.
It’s come and gone again.
And certainly not the least of my thanks and thoughts these days trips along the lines of family and the bonds that begin with genetics but supercede biology to transcend towards unconditional love.
(more…)
Your prayers are humbly requested.
Yeah. I’m asking you to pray.
(more…)
Madness
The latest in my dreamlife.
I woke up and put my glasses on. Went about my day. Not realizing that the right lense had been twisted in a flip and a half-knot over the nose with the bridge piece. With my right eye, I saw my internal impressiosn and judgements on all persons and incidences throughout the day. With my left eye, I saw reality. With both eyes open, I could not distinguish between the two and they vacilated back & forth. And it was a lovely sort of madness.
The computer was a solid medium for my words and expressions.
The computer was a portal that bled softly into the energy surrounding the monitor and wisped out in blue and grey, silky white threads.
The coworker was a woman who fiddled with her hair and talked on the phone too much.
The coworker was a demon who sucked emotional energy, inspiration, and productivity from those who crossed her path.
The phone was sitting there, in my purse quiet. Cracked faceplate of Hello Kitty on it.
The phone was taunting me. Giving me guilt trips. And sinking slowly into the desk as the person that I was hoping would call me became ever more inert & vaporous in the vision that I could see in a sketch of cloudy mist over the mouthpiece.
A flower was there in a vase at lunch. Red, with little yellow pistils that trembled as the waitress brought the meal.
A flower was there, a phsyical expression of ecstasy that called out for me and begged me to join her in blooming out my spirit to crack beyond my ribs and skin that held me back. I whispered to the flower that I feared being cut at the stem. She laughed and became quiet again.
This morning I wore my contacts and was glad.
Don’t you dare.
KB: “You heard, then?”
Moi: “Yeah.”
KB:”That sucks.”
Moi: “Don’t you dare kill yourself. Ever.”
KB:”Or what?”
Moi: “Good point.”
KB:”Gotcha.”
Moi: “You know you shouldn’t be funny about shit like that right now.”
KB: “I got one more, though.”
Moi:”What?”
KB: “If you kill yourself, I’ll make sure you’re buried in that old bridesmaid dress you hate.”
Moi:”Bitch.”
KB: “Just one who loves you.”
Moi:”That’s so not right.”
KB: “Yeah, well at least I wouldn’t reveal the story about that one guy you kicked out of your house because he said you were too smart to be Christian”.
Moi:”Thanks. Bitch.”
KB: “You know, you’re an insensitive bitch some times.”
Moi: “You’re one to talk.”
KB: “This is why they don’t let us talk to children or to the news.”
Moi: “Werd.”
KB: “Is it wrong to try & laugh about this now?”
Moi: “Not so much that we aren’t affected by it. Because we are. And maybe we’re in shock and just dealing with it like we deal with all distant tragic events & news items…like how we would the Laci Peterson … ok bad example.”
KB: “You’re so wrong, you know that?”
Moi: “Not news to either of us.”
KB: “So how do you really feel?”
Moi: “I dunno. Shocked. Empty. Surreal. Detached. ”
KB: “I wanna cigarette.”
* * *
KB: “Seriously though…”
Moi: “Yeah. He was a really good guy. I’ll miss him”
KB:”Me too. We weren’t that close, but he was always this amazing ray of sunshine and joy.”
Moi: “Good hugs too.”
KB:”Yeah. I could use one now too.”
Moi: “Yeah. I think we all could. ”
*sigh*
I’ll miss you Itzolin.
Floating like a fat kid.
I was dreaming again. In the dark, I felt slick like a lollipop that had been licked warm.
I was swimming again. Trying to catch the stars that were floating below me.
The biggest challenge was fighting my own buoyancy.
Living in the Shadow
Beloved
Too often I think I was born in the wrong time. I like to cry at the movies. I relish in the sensations of hiccupping with sobs when overcome by weighty dramatic moments in film or lyrical passages of prose. I hate the Lifetime channel but swoon over 19th century literature.
It’s just me.
On the same bookshelf I have a copy of Edna St. Vincent Millay and the History of Quidditch. I dont’ make sense and make any excuse for it.
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