Tags: chelsea

hair syrup curl

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October 16, 2007

It is grey and lovely outside and a leaf just fell and hit me on the head. I wonder at life.

I am worried a touch about my mood swings- As I was walking to the bus stop, I was both on the verge of tears and very content. I’m unsure why life happenes specifically the way it does. But I am happy to be in independent studies. It is good for me, I have finally realized. Go me.

I Feel like I should talk to my dad more often than I do. Perhaps I will now that he has instant messenger.

I need to find out chelseas schedule so I am not home while she is. She watched TV for the two.5 hours we we both home. Very loudly. I wore earplugs but they hurt my ears.

I love the feel of a pencil in my hand.
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Everytime I wash dishes, I find cathair in my sink.

I feel like I would love if my best friend showed up, walked through the open door, sat next to me on the couch and gave me a kiss on the forehead, and held me. It would be nice, but impractical, to be enveloped by loving arms. So I'm here. And the feeling now has passed.

I was at the sink washing dishes when my mom asked if I had paid my sister back the 20 dollars I borrowed. No, not yet. Why?
My mom nonchalantly mentioned as conversation, I guess, that when she took chelsea to the methodone clinic this morning, she had no money left.
She was given 80 dollars on wednesday, when my mom was going out of town, because she was making a fuss about how insulted she was that I was to be the keeper of the money for the week, like we didn't trust her or something.
Well Duh!!
Since she loaned me twenty, she had 60. This isn't counting all her tips from work. It was so that she could pay for the methodone clinic every morning.
Really, I don't know what she spent it on. She went to a five dollar movie on thursday, but thats it. Either she's just still really irresponsible, or she's started using again.
Well, this is why I don't like to let her have money. She needs to learn how to be frugal.. but I don't see how she will.
I'm really bitter about her use of money. Its not fair. Fairness is total bullshit, but it always seems to come up when one feels bitterness. Yeah, its not fair that I should be frugal, and she, who fucks up so much, should get to pretend that she isn't, like, 20,000 dollars in debt. Or therebouts. For gods sake, when your low on money, you don't buy new things, or go out to dinner, or take the bus all the time. You walk and make do with what you have.
It really, just, bothers me. And she dissapeared on a mistereous phone call. Shes been gone a while. She was gone al night on thursday. Ha, and I bothered to come home, so she wouldn't worry about me. Fucking irresponsible. She 26, why... So I guess I'll just wait for later when she claims to just be really tired. So I can be sad and probably not feel like confronting her.
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Cuddle, listen to you're thoughts, speak them, listen to my heart beat, and love me.

My leg hurts. Its lonely here. I hate complaining, but I started out in such a good mood, and was fine being alone, and got lots of visitors and felt loved. And it steadily got worse i guess. I was spoiled to early on, and then left alone too much. Might have been better to have the specialness spread out. Ah well I hate complaining. I opened to this page to try to remember and record a couple epiphanies I had today. They were short and perfect. Said simply and awesomely in their succinctness, which I don't remember.
But I'll start out with a side note, which is that my sister loves and cares about me. Sometimes its hard to stomach her shallow bubbly attitude, but she is loving. I'm her baby, her little sis. Right now she is making dinner. Trying to figure out what I'd like to eat. "I'm the mack and cheese boss." She just said. She tries to make me happy. She does it in the most ineffective way: through giving me things, but the will is there and I appreciate it. She brings me random gifts, like a frozen coffee drink from her work today. But I rarely have emotional interaction with her, I guess partly because I am unwilling to trust her. But then she talks about mundane things, and tries, to dress herself up to seduce people, god only knows why, and then suggests watching T.V. It makes me sad.

So to thoughts from the day. I watched Shortbus today. Its a movie. And after it I had a thought: Compassion. That sounds so corny, but compassion is what is necessary. In my opinion, the movie wasn't about sex, though there was so much of it, but it was about the importance of compassion, I guess, and how fake things can be. It can seem like you've got your life together: A good job, a husband, etc. But its not so tangible. It can be held together with strings woven of weak beliefs... That sounds corny. My point was that people don't really interact, and don't really exist without compassion (I can explain existence if need be, but I'd rather you just take it for granted for now). People can't truly feel compassion for one another without being open and vulnerable. So, Ok, entertainment, sex and all that is nice, but whats it worth if people don't take time out from it to experience each other and connect. Vulnerability is like taking off your clothes, and allowing someone to penetrate you. That analogy doesn't work so well when connected to the connotations behind sex. But compassion can be one of the most important gestures one has to you. Often, I think, opening up to someone spontaneously, allowing them your trust, and their responding with a well placed pet, or some kind of physical contact, or gesture of interaction is more fulfilling than a full bodied hug, a kiss, any amount of passion or sex. Because you know the person is interested in you. The person is connected to you. Your mind is much more tangible than your body. (the only thing you can prove exists is your own mind. Anything else might be a figment of it.) So, what I'm saying, is that with compassion, its not necessary for someone to hold you tight and not let go. With compassion you exist as yourself? That makes no sense.
I'll move on to my next thought, because my guess is that I don't have the scientific evidence to prove the above thought. I myself am left alone. I mean, I think its right. But after having that revelation clearly stated in a simple sentence in my head, I was very sad and wanted to hold another human being. I wanted to be wrapped up inside of someone. But alas, Both Genevieve and Bit were there. Bit is awkward. I was sadly not in an environment in which I felt I was allowed to be vulnerable. I think I had the thought because, in such a place as shortbus, I would have felt that i could do and be anything. I would cry, it would be allowed. Shortbus was a kind of club. I am so dorky, being affected by movies like this. But then again, whats the point of experiencing something if you don't take something away from it. (I usually try to avoid empty entertainment, unless it is allowing me to bond with a person.) I feel like in a place like that, I could get whatever kind of attention I wanted, even lack there of. Have you seen it? see it. You'll think I'm weird. But since normal obviously isn't healthy, what else can one strive to be. The best I can do I try to make my ideas the norm. Or at least, the good ideas of them.

The next idea. I was lying in bed, Genevieve and Bit on the floor. Bit was sleeping and Genevieve watching him. I was all alone on the bed, and I had this epiphany of singularity. Again, I don't remember how I phrased it, only how it felt. It felt un-lonely. I felt ok with being alone, because I wasn't alone. But I was aware of myself and the world around me in an unusually perfect porportion. Usually, when I am falling asleep, things get trippy and out of proportion, I tune out the world and drift out of my strange mishapen body to escape loneliness, depression and the world. Do you know the feeling? Your feet will be huge, then your hand, then your head... it all depend of what your most aware of. But there I was, lying as one body, simultaneously aware of all of my body. So my feet were the exact sixe the should be, and my hands and my heart beat. I was aware of where my bed was, what the sheets felt like, what my skin felt like, the feel of the wiond, the sound of the wind. I was aware of the position and sound of every one else in the house, and the exact position of all the brrier between us. The door, the amount of air. I was aware of the sounds of cars rushing past, and birds in trees, and wind in trees. This is nice, I thought. This is how to exist as one being without being lonely: be aware of the world around you in relation to you. Soak up its energy, so to say.... I don't know how to say it. Revel in the peice of space that you inhabit, and nothing is oppressing you. You are strong and whole, and your body function while the rest of the earth functions and moves. YOu fit in perfectly with it. The bit of space welcomes you, and you become it. That sounds corny, but I am bad with words; I think in images.
It was nice. I quickly changed moods again, but if I make myself think like that, I have ambition. Obviously the trick is keeping it.
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mrrr, my face hurts.

Its all big and puffy and firm, like I was attacked by botox. I worry that I'm not doing everything right. What if the bone doesn't heal? that would suck so much. If I am not supposed to sneeze, is snorting from laughter ok? Hell if I know. I'm young, I guess I'll be fine. I don't like that I am trusting my mom to keep track of my pills. I feel like she wont do it right. Shes asleep right now, and I don't know when I took my last pills.
Oh, well I'm not in a lot of pain, I am just uncomfortable.
Yesterday, I had a revelation that I forgot to write down or talk about, and I don't remember how I came to it, but I decided that pain is preferable to discomfort.

On another topic, my friends are lovely wonderful people. Freya called me at 11:30 this morning, so as to get me before I got bored. She came over a bit later. Then a little after that, Valliant came over. They both kept me company till around 6:30, at which point they tucked me into bed. The sweethearts, I love them.
An hour or so later, Laura Gorrin called... I groggily mumbled at her.
I woke up around 8, 8:30, and called laura. She said Her, and Harris Lappy, and Alex Quilter would come over and bring a movie (assuming I wanted, of course). The sweethearts. Well they did. They brought over the first half of Angels in America, and what a strange movie it was. All about crazy people and interwoven live, and hallucinations. They just left, at like 12:43? Oh, the lovelies, I love my friends, they are awesome. My leg was hurting, and my face was hurting, and even my back was hurting during the movie, but it didn't matter. I snuggled up to Harris and took note, mostly mentally of camera angels/angles and tried to not get confused.

I had people sign my leg. Freya wrote get well soo, Valliant write best wishes (after much deliberation), harris drew a cute orange explosion with a smile and legs, and Laura drew an orange... heart with a tail? or a weird pointy worm with one big eye, a tail, and little feel and I smile? I don't know, but I like it.

My sister snored through most of the movie while I poked her with my cane, but after my friends left she gave me loves and made sure i had everything I needed. I feel very loved today... but I'm thinking I should be resting more than I am. I'm not that happy, because my adorable puffy face is sore, but I'm doing fairly non the less.

Love Love Love.

Oh, I need to remember some of the other revelations I had yesterday. I don't remember my dreams, and I'm having a hgard time typing. Its ssooooo hard, god. Myabe its the drugs? I'm tired of fixing the typos though, thy are interestingly indicative. Am I bleeding still?
I've confused my self. I think I was going to note that apparently I left a very long drugged message on Freya voice mail yesterday that she passed around at dance and they laughed at it. I love my people. I am glad to be finally loved.
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Easter etc

It has occured to me that there is a different way for dealing with eveyone. So it takes a long time, but eventually, you figure out how to behave towards/ react towards your parents in a way that works for you. And inevitably, this'll bite you in the butt in the real world. So try as you may to anticipate this and react in a way that is neither the unhealthy behaviors of your parents, the coping mechanism to it, or, whatever you beleive is contrary to their behaviors (in a hopes to be healthier, but the polar oppisites have their own problems) you will still clash with people.
No matter how hard you try, thee'll still be something that isn't right about you, and annoys people/ is dysfunctional, because you really just dont know what to do or say.
Because no one does.

 It bothers me that women are more respected when they conform to style. For example, one ought to wear shoes that dont clash with her outfit when visiting grandparents, so that they think well of you.

A thing to say to end an argument: I am not going to argue with you about this because I dont feel that either of us are well enough informed on the issue to have a productive arguement.

I feel like a hooved animal in my little white church shoes. Like a deer or something. But this isn't good... I feel this way because I am walking funny to avoid them rubbing painfully. As it is, walking home from bart I rubbed the skin off my pinky toe.
They are my only pair of white shoes, period, not to mention my only pair of little white respectable dressy shoes.

I hate Easter. If I have to sit in one place doing nothing, I'd rather be sleeping. Why should I listen to my mom talk to someone, I dont (and neith did katie) need to hear about my stepfather's inability to get along with anyone. But I was supposed to be there, of course. Yay bitter tone! (yay sarcasm)

Sometimes, it seems there are too many things to deal with and I just want to sleep for a long time. Then I realize that is not what I want. What I really want is to feel ambitious and happy. Perhaps even peaceful. I assosiate that with sleep because sleep brings that... but only if your problem is lack of sleep.
I went to visit my grandparents today, because I want them to like me so that they'll leave me money in their will, and realize that I am a different person entirely thatn my parents. They do, I am. Unforchanutly, they have no tact. I realize I have half assed parents, and regardless of whether its ok to talk bad about parents to their own kids, they could atleast not do it infront of my brothers girlfriend. I mean, what does one do with that.
  My mom apparently tried to get the equity from my dads wifes house to pay for my braces, (I'm not O.K. with this in the slightest, for the reasons that: regina worked hard for that house, they need the money for a down payment when they move, and they have no money) and grandpa was going on about that.

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So I have to talk about this too with my mom now. Sometimes I feel its too much talking. Communication is hard, I don't think in words, so finding the perfect ones to express what I want to say peacfully and effectivly is... well.... draining. I don't really feel to energetic even thinking about it. And shes tired too.

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