I painted my nails blue and the thumbnails red. Feeling contrary, irrational... but supremely reasonable and languid. Ask me for anything.
Take me away, I'll go.
And I'll come get you if you thought to ask me.
Wouldn't it be nice if we were destined to be brother and sister?
If not for dreamish slander sweet that is mine
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Monday, August 10, 2009
today and the other one
One day, but not today, I woke up and it didn't hurt. For like fifteen minutes it didn't hurt at all. But today is one of the worst days.
I am wholistically ill, my cumulative convalescence is destroyed and my heart is still in pieces. Further chaotic shards, instead of arrangements of mosaics that were supposed to justify the shattering.
I just can't believe that my dream is dead in my arms, and how much it meant to me, and how little else there may be left with it gone. I look up when I can, but nothing in my sight motivates me to let go. I return to it, helplessly, and ask, 'what else is there?'
The whole world awaits.
And no one can take you alive if you're smart enough. Care enough.
Care is not happening. Today. And even the other one.
I am wholistically ill, my cumulative convalescence is destroyed and my heart is still in pieces. Further chaotic shards, instead of arrangements of mosaics that were supposed to justify the shattering.
I just can't believe that my dream is dead in my arms, and how much it meant to me, and how little else there may be left with it gone. I look up when I can, but nothing in my sight motivates me to let go. I return to it, helplessly, and ask, 'what else is there?'
The whole world awaits.
And no one can take you alive if you're smart enough. Care enough.
Care is not happening. Today. And even the other one.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
connected to dischord
Here at the bottom of the pit, I can see romantic love from a completely objective perspective and I have this much to say for it: sugary.
Sugary and hilarious. The most sleep depriving thing in the whole world, but also the circumstance wherein lies the sweetest sleep you ever had. You'll ever have.
It's a feeling of being constantly pleasantly surprised.
If True Love is anything like it, we're all doomed to matrimony.
And then there's the kidney stone of disapproval, crystallized malcontent and distrust that tear at the delicate dream of love. (Because that's all it is, until a perfect union.)
What do I feel.
Malcontent. Dark and portentous waters at my neck. The candy lifesaver within my reach but so bad for the teeth! Ha.
Sugary and hilarious. The most sleep depriving thing in the whole world, but also the circumstance wherein lies the sweetest sleep you ever had. You'll ever have.
It's a feeling of being constantly pleasantly surprised.
If True Love is anything like it, we're all doomed to matrimony.
And then there's the kidney stone of disapproval, crystallized malcontent and distrust that tear at the delicate dream of love. (Because that's all it is, until a perfect union.)
What do I feel.
Malcontent. Dark and portentous waters at my neck. The candy lifesaver within my reach but so bad for the teeth! Ha.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
The breakfast method / Me in Disgrace
There are, I suppose, many ways to make reparation to your father for completely obliterating his trust and authority. I like the breakfast method.
He's up about 6:20, on average. He'd better leave around 6:35-ish, so there isn't much time for a healthy breakfast despite his reputation as the Fastest Showerer in the West.
I'm in disgrace forever.
And I can't make a poached egg to save my life (which is at an end).
But I make a nice over-easy and toast is easy. Choosing a beautiful glass for milk is my specialty! Anyway it's the thought that counts!
SIR: "Good breakfast this morning, Milena."
ME IN DISGRACE: "I know. Hecka good."
SIR: "There are sandwiches to be made for lunch."
ME IN DISGRACE: "Surely. And mom makes them."
SIR: "You're making them now."
ME IN DISGRACE: "What is your opinion of the weather?"
SIR: "Show up bright and early or you're dead."
Even if I ran away from home to raise bastard identical twins who look exactly like TallDarknFrizzy, there is no way in hell (nor on earth) that I'm getting up to make sandwiches. That's wife work. And I've never even had a boyfriend!! Hell no. I am still a female human being with rights.
My plan instead is to find a woman with five kids and an abusive husband. I will offer her shelter in our basement, and give up my bedroom if they can't all fit down there. In exchange for their room and board they shall take over the housework. Perhaps some of her children can find work, and pay our gas bills along with the cellphone charges.
Then Sir will have nothing to complain about, as multitudes of people will be up at 6AM, poaching eggs and constructing sandwiches, while I text and relax in Ungatribe's bed (which she'll be only too happy to share with me).
It's easy to solve even the worst problems, including world hunger.
But not likely.
Oh well.
He's up about 6:20, on average. He'd better leave around 6:35-ish, so there isn't much time for a healthy breakfast despite his reputation as the Fastest Showerer in the West.
I'm in disgrace forever.
And I can't make a poached egg to save my life (which is at an end).
But I make a nice over-easy and toast is easy. Choosing a beautiful glass for milk is my specialty! Anyway it's the thought that counts!
SIR: "Good breakfast this morning, Milena."
ME IN DISGRACE: "I know. Hecka good."
SIR: "There are sandwiches to be made for lunch."
ME IN DISGRACE: "Surely. And mom makes them."
SIR: "You're making them now."
ME IN DISGRACE: "What is your opinion of the weather?"
SIR: "Show up bright and early or you're dead."
Even if I ran away from home to raise bastard identical twins who look exactly like TallDarknFrizzy, there is no way in hell (nor on earth) that I'm getting up to make sandwiches. That's wife work. And I've never even had a boyfriend!! Hell no. I am still a female human being with rights.
My plan instead is to find a woman with five kids and an abusive husband. I will offer her shelter in our basement, and give up my bedroom if they can't all fit down there. In exchange for their room and board they shall take over the housework. Perhaps some of her children can find work, and pay our gas bills along with the cellphone charges.
Then Sir will have nothing to complain about, as multitudes of people will be up at 6AM, poaching eggs and constructing sandwiches, while I text and relax in Ungatribe's bed (which she'll be only too happy to share with me).
It's easy to solve even the worst problems, including world hunger.
But not likely.
Oh well.
Monday, May 11, 2009
In which I repent at leisure.
DAD: Let's hang out. This is my fifth time saying it.
ME: Surely!
PHONE: *RRRRRIIINNNNGGG*
ME: Who could that be? Perhaps tis Wallace the Long Winded, in which case I should ignore.
Inwardly I know it could be JC, who got my number earlier that day, but it's like 10:30 at night. Why the hell would he call me at this hour to discuss his work schedule and set up a session?
Answer? He wouldn't. Isn't. OMG HE LOVES ME *hyperventilate*
I look at the caller ID and sure enough it reads yet another of my nicknames for him, names I've chosen in order to keep from having to say this guy's very boring real name to myself and others.
I pick up, with MAXIMUM phone voice. (People tell me my phone voice brings the dead to life and instantly soothes any crying infant within a mile radius. HELL yes.)
It works too... he seems into it.
"Just wanted to make sure you saved me in your phone. You know who this is?"
After I was just congratulating myself that we didn't have to use his dumb name.
He starts going into all this stuff that I can't even remember right now, because I have trouble believing a word he says. Everything that comes out of his mouth is either a line, or a suggestive pause. I hate him, if you really want to know the truth. But I am also attracted to him.
He said all the right things, things I wanted to hear. Unbelievable crap about wanting to hear my voice and how he's comfortable with me (but minutes later saying I've got him nervous! Retard.) and how about him as a boyfriend???
Throughout the phone call these two thoughts were a loop in my mind:
1) I'm so flattered a smooth-talking retard with muscles is trying to con me.
2) This is ridiculous.
I'm dying to be his friend.
I want him to like hanging out with me, as I thought he did, the few times we met at my work. I was myself, he was himself, and we had fun talk.
I like him a ton.
If he wants me as a girlfriend, I know our differences will be far, far too great. I could be a friend -- A HELLA FUN FRIEND... but maybe my attraction showed too much. And now we're destined to be akward after a few akward dates and phonecalls.
Anyway, I decided to be natural, and do what I want. Hope everything works out.
My plan is to be aggressive in my desire to hang out with him, and hope he's willing to let me do that at my own pace (aka stop trying to move us forward himself).
But most of all, I hate having to look good everyday. We're in different leagues, physically, and keeping up with him is tiring. To complement his "beautiful" I have to be "cute."
The thing is, he doesn't know me. If I no longer look good to him, we'll never have a chance to talk.
I hate him, you know. Did I already say that?
ME: Surely!
PHONE: *RRRRRIIINNNNGGG*
ME: Who could that be? Perhaps tis Wallace the Long Winded, in which case I should ignore.
Inwardly I know it could be JC, who got my number earlier that day, but it's like 10:30 at night. Why the hell would he call me at this hour to discuss his work schedule and set up a session?
Answer? He wouldn't. Isn't. OMG HE LOVES ME *hyperventilate*
I look at the caller ID and sure enough it reads yet another of my nicknames for him, names I've chosen in order to keep from having to say this guy's very boring real name to myself and others.
I pick up, with MAXIMUM phone voice. (People tell me my phone voice brings the dead to life and instantly soothes any crying infant within a mile radius. HELL yes.)
It works too... he seems into it.
"Just wanted to make sure you saved me in your phone. You know who this is?"
After I was just congratulating myself that we didn't have to use his dumb name.
He starts going into all this stuff that I can't even remember right now, because I have trouble believing a word he says. Everything that comes out of his mouth is either a line, or a suggestive pause. I hate him, if you really want to know the truth. But I am also attracted to him.
He said all the right things, things I wanted to hear. Unbelievable crap about wanting to hear my voice and how he's comfortable with me (but minutes later saying I've got him nervous! Retard.) and how about him as a boyfriend???
Throughout the phone call these two thoughts were a loop in my mind:
1) I'm so flattered a smooth-talking retard with muscles is trying to con me.
2) This is ridiculous.
I'm dying to be his friend.
I want him to like hanging out with me, as I thought he did, the few times we met at my work. I was myself, he was himself, and we had fun talk.
I like him a ton.
If he wants me as a girlfriend, I know our differences will be far, far too great. I could be a friend -- A HELLA FUN FRIEND... but maybe my attraction showed too much. And now we're destined to be akward after a few akward dates and phonecalls.
Anyway, I decided to be natural, and do what I want. Hope everything works out.
My plan is to be aggressive in my desire to hang out with him, and hope he's willing to let me do that at my own pace (aka stop trying to move us forward himself).
But most of all, I hate having to look good everyday. We're in different leagues, physically, and keeping up with him is tiring. To complement his "beautiful" I have to be "cute."
The thing is, he doesn't know me. If I no longer look good to him, we'll never have a chance to talk.
I hate him, you know. Did I already say that?
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Radetzky Marching
Well, well. This is the most reckless I've been with regards to my studies. I've attended every social function, every family dinner and done any little thing I felt like doing. Recklessly!
It's beautiful weather. The Radetzky march by Johannes Strauss plays over and over, just for me. I am a person in whom deception has driven so devastating a pike, I no longer fear the appropriate terrors. The truth about my character blurs to meaningless meshes in my mind.
A cheap price to pay to be happy... be unrealistically unphazed by your own lack of virtues?
I'm going to Michigan on the last day of school, to fight the next major battle for my soul.
It's beautiful weather. The Radetzky march by Johannes Strauss plays over and over, just for me. I am a person in whom deception has driven so devastating a pike, I no longer fear the appropriate terrors. The truth about my character blurs to meaningless meshes in my mind.
A cheap price to pay to be happy... be unrealistically unphazed by your own lack of virtues?
I'm going to Michigan on the last day of school, to fight the next major battle for my soul.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
in which I scan everything but the horizon
Feeling a bit buzzed, since I met Juan aka "Unicorn Man" again, finally. I was beginning to think we weren't meant to be! I guess he forgives me!
Did you know he's like, three years older than me? His face has him held back in a perpetual 18. But that doesn't give him the right to cut his hair hella short. HE HAS RUINED HIS LOOKS! That braid was his best--- *remembers the muscles* --- second best feature! I didn't even recognize him.
Would it be internet gossiping to say that we had our first friendly touch today? We considered a math problem together (adding mixed numbers and improper fractions, how romantic!) and I turned my head to the side, you know... considering. And I feel him leaning his on mine.
"We can put our heads together," he suggests.
It was mucho tingly. I hope we can progress! I wasn't on duty at the time so I didn't feel I was discracing the sacred workplace or hallow footage of academia.
Anyway, the point is I'm tired of scanning things.
I scanned stuff to PhysicsDemon in the dead of night. Then scanned stuff to BioPrincess. Then to ChemDarling. And now I'm working furiously to get my stuff all finished up so I can go home and scan two (hopefully three) more assignments.
I don't have time for the unicorndude hereafter referred to as Dapper Buff Tan Man.
But I keep daydreaming. ~
Did you know he's like, three years older than me? His face has him held back in a perpetual 18. But that doesn't give him the right to cut his hair hella short. HE HAS RUINED HIS LOOKS! That braid was his best--- *remembers the muscles* --- second best feature! I didn't even recognize him.
Would it be internet gossiping to say that we had our first friendly touch today? We considered a math problem together (adding mixed numbers and improper fractions, how romantic!) and I turned my head to the side, you know... considering. And I feel him leaning his on mine.
"We can put our heads together," he suggests.
It was mucho tingly. I hope we can progress! I wasn't on duty at the time so I didn't feel I was discracing the sacred workplace or hallow footage of academia.
Anyway, the point is I'm tired of scanning things.
I scanned stuff to PhysicsDemon in the dead of night. Then scanned stuff to BioPrincess. Then to ChemDarling. And now I'm working furiously to get my stuff all finished up so I can go home and scan two (hopefully three) more assignments.
I don't have time for the unicorndude hereafter referred to as Dapper Buff Tan Man.
But I keep daydreaming. ~
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