my eyes

can hardly open
anymore
a long day
long hours
spent
thinking of you

your soft skin
against my cheek
your smell fills my senses
even though...
you're not here

can i clutch tight
to these small tokens
things left
forgotten
in my room

hold them
feeling their
you-ness

nothing like
your soft skin
against my cheek
it is a stale scent
although welcome
plenty.

sigh

i haven't felt this way in a long time. baby, you have been a shining light in my life- i won't ever take you for granted. whatever happens, don't forget me, don't forget what we've done. i love you.

it is horrible

to see folks that I went to high school with on friendster/myspace, or really anywhere on the internet. y'know why? because high school was painfully embarrassing. And I was a fucked up drug addict in high school. I was probably absolutely horrible to folks and I might not remember any of it. And then I see folks that did messed up shit to me, and I wanna find them and beat the shit out of them. or hug them and tell them its ok. at least something emotional and restorative.

Hey everyone, I'm sorry I was a fucked up addict. I'm not anymore. I put my life back together, I'm healing myself- and i'm scared shitless to talk to most of you. so there we go.

Jordan, I'm sorry. Charlotte, you were awfully mean to me, but I'm sure I deserved some of it. I remember sitting in Jordan's living room, probably coming down or something as melodramatic, and crying about how it felt like no one cared, no one loved me. James looked at me and said, well maybe that's because no one does. I stopped crying.

i just wanted to feel ok, and drugs did that for me. for a little while. Just trying to get by. What did the other kids without mamas do? What did the other kids with overworked parents do? I dunno. This is what i did. Snorted and smoked meth. ick.

i just remembered

mitch. what a memory. we really loved each other, loved hanging out with each other, seeing each other, he loved me. he was the first person to really love me, i think. he was the wrong person, yes, and i´m glad we´re not even friends, but he taught me an awful lot. thanks, mitch. i know i never told you, but i want you to know. i´m putting it out there to the universe, and maybe you´ll be able to hear me.
wow did we ever client on each other, though. woah.

hello again

i think i realized that when i hang out with reed i feel like shit, because he holds me at arms length. i think that sucks. i think i am not going to hang out with him for a while. and i am going to be totally ok with that- i am going to put good, loving effort into some other folks for a little while. yeh. i have lots of other deep and meaningful relationships, and i can wait for reed to come back with some vulnerability. i hope he's not mad that i slammed the car door... i always get scared that someones mad. fuckit.
i like l. she's rad. i'm super into hanging out with her.

jeez

i am perhaps simply not used to being rejected. sigh. it does kinda blow. but then there are folks who want to hang out with/date me, that i am currently rejecting. is it all some fucked up painful circle where we just kick each other in the face? what the fuck.
hmmph.

i really

don't know. it seems like life is this funny little journey, and sometimes things are hard- super fucking crazy- or else it feels that way, so what are you supposed to do? constantly feel horrible? or just decide that things aren't all that bad?
y'know, it seems like maybe things feel bad even when they're good. in my life right now things are generally going well, lots of recognition for my hard work at school, i have a steady income, i have a great home, i enjoy my work, but for some reason it feels like i should be looking hard for love, like i need to be in love. i think that i have been in love regularly over the last five or so years. before mitch i was always in a multitude of relationships. after high school, i never really needed to be in a relationship, have a boyfriend, etc, partly perhaps because drugs did the deed enough for me.
Regardless, this seems to be a pattern i need to break. i have lots of great friends that i love, and that love me. i don't need to be in a primary relationship. it is nice to have friends whom i fuck- i like being able to have sex occasionally- although perhaps that is something else i should give up. you'd think it was fucking lent or something, with all this giving up...

oh god

this is why i hate smoking weed. i remember all the things about myself that i hate- and then i sit there in creative quandry, wanting to do something pretty and instead just sitting there.

am i looking for something too profound in life? or is my life profound in ways that i can't see? i want to feel challenged and fulfilled, am i simply not challenging nor fulfilling myself? once upon a time in my life i had occasional bouts of severe-ness, periods of time where everything felt so ridiculously too much that i would freak out. they happened very infrequently. now, they seem to be happening weekly.

what the fuck am i supposed to be doing here? i am not making connections with people lately, and it feels like maybe i don't need to be, i have too much else to do- WHICH IS WHY I WANT TO QUIT IT ALL. fuck it. am i living my life? what the hell is living? is it partying and dancing and freaking out, all things that i don't know how to do without alcohol? is it camping and hiking and meditating? is it sewing and talking to folks? is it writing bad blog entries? who the fuck sees this shit anyway?

i don't know what the hell i want. am i some fucking poser who pretends all the fucking time? it feels like i'm pretending all the time. i wonder if other ppl feel like their life is a fucking play, mine is.

it seems like

i wrote some other entries that are no longer here. i dunno.

why are people so damn squirrely? why, when you make yourself available to people, do they seem to sometimes shrink from it like you're offering something terrible?

i have to tell you a secret. i am so afraid that this past weekend in nc was some sort of giant booty call, and that once he got what he needed from me (sex) then it was over or something. oh god, it feels terrible. i keep telling myself that he loves me, he is one of my oldest friends, that of course he cares, but i keep remembering how awkward i felt around his friends, that i could never be as there as they were, that somehow he had much better connections with these men, i couldn't keep up with them, all my fears were realized- i walked into a den of men, another oak street, another trap, where i wasn't good enough to make eye contact with or funny enough to entertain folks or interesting/intelligent enough to make engaging conversation. jeezus am i scared that he has seen that part of me i thought that i had extinguished, that part of me that i thought i had proved didn't exist, some deep inadequate aspect lacking in humanity. i can't imagine my life without him, but what am i supposed to do if we don't have any connection other than a sexual one? what if all of it is gone? am i supposed to just keep going on- and let myself be reduced to this thing? is this all some horrible distress? am i just feeling all that shit that went down with us as kids? no responses to my call/text messages, etc. what the hell am i? i kinda want to just die. i want to run away. i want anything but this rejection, anyone else could reject the hell out of me, anyone but him. i know that's not true, but i have this deep tie to him that i love, and i remember that look on his face as i walked toward the airport doors and it was almost like "you're gonna get on that plane, right?" a skeptical look. god, i wonder how much i'm reading into this.

i don't know if i can do this r thing. it is so fucking hard. it is ripping my heart out. i am an empty fucking chest, open ribs, bleeding all over the ground. i can't get all "sure, we could fall in love again" and then deal with him running fast and hard away from me. it will fucking kill me. i love him too much. i'm gonna hide in my room, forever.

am i condemned to run in circles with these people forever?

the sinking feeling

i miss j. i wonder if i miss j, or if i miss what i wanted to have with j. damn. i was so in the middle of getting ready to be his girlfriend, like, for real. i had just decided to commit to him- and thought we had a mutual agreement to commit, and what the fuck, three days later he runs away. i was wrong; men don’t do the freak out after three weeks, they do it any damn time the commitment fear hits them hard. and you become the bad guy. or girl. or whatever. god, then he starts dating someone right away, it was like he needed to be with someone immediately, and it wasn’t me that he wanted to be with, what the fuck with all of the “i wanna be with you” and commitment-speak in the beginning, what the fuck with all of the super-wanting-to-hang-out crap, like all the time, jeez. i feel kinda used and abused. but then i remember his long frame stalking down the hallway toward me, his herringbone jacket perfect on his frame, his hair framing his face, and i miss the crap out of him.

i wonder if he was trying to hump the bartender at his fave bar the whole time, if he was like waiting for her to dump her boyfriend, or was just maintaining his little romance for when the commitment fear hit him and he could jump to the next new love. it's easier to be in new love than maintain a relationship. and possibly less scary. i understand that. i even feel that.

i wonder if he misses me at all. it sucks to sit and perhaps be the only one missing the relationship, but you know what, fuck it all. i don’t know what to say. i don’t know why he ran away, why he decided to judge me, i remember the look in his eye and the tone in his voice- who are you?- and i didn’t know what to say. i was wearing sweatpants, is that it? i looked tired and scared, was that it? i am SOO tired of wondering whether or not i was woman enough for men, that’s what i love about reed, that its not about me being grrly or femme or whatever but that i am sexy no matter what my gender presentation is, and with david too, i know that when i am strong and careful and even when i look like a big old dyke then i am still a woman, deserving love and care from men. i am bisexual. i am a butchy femme queer, and i want to love men and women, and i don’t want to have to be the typical female role for you to love me. And, I want to be dominated in bed sometimes. This does not contradict my butchy femme presentation. yeh, motherfuckers. what.

oh yeah- this is good-

that man i talked about below- the blind date man, the one who talked too much? the sweet one i met again at j's bday. he and my friend l went on a date, an un-drunk date, and he talked nonstop for almost 5 hours. heheh. that's kinda funny. i guess i won't be dating him at all.

talking about dating, i am feeling *so* unattracted to sex w/men right now. i don't want to even go there. there are two that i am sleeping with, three, kind of, but i can't help but think that really, what i want right now, is a woman. a girlfriend, a fun one.

i am getting a little bit

nervous. about going. especially after finding that my ticket was not reserved for the days that i had reported to n- i am particularly embarrassed. and soon i will be in an environment that might be a little rough for me to take sans crutch, aka, alcohol or something similar. i want to stick to this decision. i have decided, already, to do it. enough bitching and moaning about being afraid of it.

oh fuck, who am i? i am not the person i was six months ago, two years ago, five years ago. i am different, overwhelmingly so. hmmph. perhaps i'm overreacting. i tend to do that when i smoke.

did i tell you that i was/am a drug addict? Recovering, of course, after a long bout with methamphetamine. I wasn't the sort of dope addict you normally run across, not until the end, i had a boyfriend who had no idea for over 6 months. he went back to the east coast never knowing. i was good, thin, but not too thin, i ate food all the time, had *great* grades in high school, later maintained a *great* job, had lovers and lots of fun. but i was high the whole time. and now i'm *attempting* some sort of period of time away from alcohol. i have become someone very different, i have my eye on something, my future, i guess. i want something for myself, something rich and diverse and challenging.

twists and turns

are to be expected, i guess. i'm kinda happy right now- the party i had here last night was marginal, at best, but the sex i had after the party was pretty fucking good. with someone i did not expect to be having sex with. almost a year later... interesting. he's kinda romantic in bed, its funny. he kisses all tender and intimate-like, and i guess i didn't expect it. i don't really remember it being like that before, but my memory of that time is clouded with some fucked up shit.

I'm at home, all by myself, and there is no television or movie to distract me, and it is all quiet and still, besides the whirring of my space heater. um, i don't know what to do. sleep? i have no good books to read right now (damn it).

hmmph.

aw shit

i did not expect this to come back and bite me in the ass like this. at all. i had a great weekend, by the way, thanks to db- i like hanging out, being romantic and sexual and having no strings attached. i had a lot of great sex, great food, great drink, did whatever i damn well pleased and had great company for it. i came home afterwards and had a great dinner with r, then had great sex again. so, from all the looks of it, my life is pretty fucking great, huh? i get to do what i want, when i want to motherfucking do it, and answer to no motherfucker about it. Fuck it.

So why am i so motherfucking pissed off about this thing? it turns out that this toby person is real, she and j are fucking doing it, or something akin to that, and motherfucking j runs into my motherfucking BEST FRIEND, introduces her to this girl, she calls me, says that she saw him with toby, do i know this toby? my motherfucking heart dropped into my stomach.

i have one thing to say, j, and that is- fuck you, not for seeing someone else, i give a fuck about that, really- but for lying to me, and breaking up with me because you started seeing someone else and lying to me about it. And then lying when i caught you. Have fun, i hope that she is easier and more fun to be with than i was, i am a tough bitch and i know it and goddamn you and every other man who can't look into themselves enough to not feel threatened and fucked up by me.

or maybe i'm just crazy. i dunno. i tend to think that i'm ok. in real life, i think i am. and i don't want a real boyfriend right now, that's why i wanted to be poly anyway with you, freaked out. i hope that you are happy. I'm sorry that you didn't feel like you could tell me the truth.

well, fuck

if i start thinking about him, i get awfully sad. when i saw him this week he looked at me with those sad eyes, and we touched each other, and i missed him so fucking much. but i know that we can't get that original feeling back. its too bad. he's so nice and all that, but its important to remember that i was relatively doubtful through most of it. oh, it feels shitty to say that. i hate dating. no fucking more. no more broken hearts. my life for me.

there are

still images of me, a child, that people in my life retain in their minds. they reference these images, compare them to the present me, filter all my words and behaviors through that memory of a very small me. i can see them, i can watch them filtering- staring at me, astonished perhaps, that i stand in front of them- adult, completely now, without restraint.

my cousin met her husband in college. he would do funny things to her parked bike to show her that he loved her. they have been together for more than ten years. i am in college, i am late to be in college, i don't want to meet a fratty man aspiring to be an environmental engineer, i want to be happy with me- but there is a part of me that envies her, she's been in love for so long, and he's a good person, he loves her. she has two beautiful children, they are small and smiley, so cute. but she didn't breed until she was 32.

i will be done with my phd by then...

here's a question

if i decided to focus on liberation and movement building, instead of whether or not i was pretty/desireable/interesting/sexy, what exactly would the effect be? would i just know that i was ok most of the time, and focus on writing/organizing/meeting ppl/facilitating fun workshops/etc? would my amazing ability to be completely focused on a single task serve me right and would i shine again- rather than feeling fucking deflated, unfocused, etc.... yep. that's what i wanna do. no more getting all wrapped up in getting affection/etc. crap it all.

today was

good and bad, both. i had an easygoing morning, wherein i had a cup of coffee and did research whilst my students evaluated my performance this term. i had nice conversations with people i like. i had a great bike ride to the place where all this happened- namely, my school- in record time. 20 minutes! shit! i am a motherfucking cyclin' fool, for real. On the bike ride home, though, things took a turn for the melancholy- i saw j walking down the street, he said hi, i stopped my (great looking) bike, i looked like ass, he looked motherfucking good, i felt sad, talked too much, complimented his look, got no compliment in return, said stupid things, said goodbye, and rode away. He, of course, was tactful and kind. because that's how that guy is. and i may be kind, but i am dramatic and tactless.

aw, fuckit, may the dramatic rule the earth already. we're more fun, maybe, than the quiet alcholics- we get drunk, we get crazy, we invent situations to get mad/excited/sad about, we love to get riled up and all that. it kinda hurts, though, that so many people think i'm in crisis mode all the time. r used to say that shit to me, and it hurt, because i thought i was just being me. d said today that i seemed to be in crisis all the time, and j used to say that. really, i think that i may be:
1) depressed
2) some sort of manic
3) add
I present these options for a specific reason. d said that i have an uncanny ability to focus completely on a project- to be singularly consumed. this is very true. this is why i'm good at certain things- production, organizing events/etc. i have extreme emotional differentials. i go up and down like a motherfucking ferris wheel, and not all that predictable, either. i am super emotional, and when i'm feeling things i usually have to be dramatic about it.

it feels kinda poopy. but if i was a more even-keeled person, i wouldnt be the dynamic person i think i am now. somehow, i believe that i am a compelling person, and i think my intensity is an essential part of that.

i've been thinking

about whether or not to really share my blog. i'm not sure it matters anyway, but i'm contemplating it.

i am sworn off dating for a little while. no more. i feel bad when i let folks down, i don't wanna break hearts because having your heart broken sucks. feeling broken sucks. and i dont wanna feel broken again anytime soon. so there.

although the other evening i saw a nice young man at a party... he and i blind dated one time, i was totally turned off because he never stopped talking. seriously. i asked about his watch- wait, no, i just complimented it- and he went on to tell me about the four prior watches, how they came into his possession, things that happened while he had them, and how he lost them. it was very hard for me to be in the conversation, it seemed like he maybe didnt know i was there anyway. so i kinda blew him off, told him i was real busy in school and all that (hmm, sounds familiar...) He came to our house party a while later, when i had just started seeing j, and he kissed me at the very end- and i really enjoyed his kiss. hes respectfully impulsive, and it was ridiculously endearing.

at this recent party (j.s. b'day, yay!) i sat next to him and we made awkward conversation, attempting to hold down a marginally interesting conversation, we were mediocre at it. i caught him looking at me alot, and that was interesting. i kept imagining him naked and breathless and sweaty during our conversation, is that dirty?

oh hell yes it is. i have been doing that alot lately. i've been feeling the need for a good rough casual fuck, and i cant help but imagine my friends/the busperson/cashier/person riding by on their bike panting and naked. hmm. panting.

i'm still not dating, though, fuck all that noise, i'm not gonna do this shit. too much fucking stress already.

jeezus

i feel like shit. i just don't want to date any new folks. i want easy and casual things. you can feel it when something isn't going to be casual- maybe i knew it, the day after, when she called me three times and i didn't know how to react and i really like kissing her but i can't think about making a new relationship with anyone right now, i really can't, or it feels like i really can't, like it would overwhelm me and that i would start just hanging out with her all the time and i would forget again about people and that she would be over here all the time and me over there and i wouldn't do my work but for making out and fucking, and damn, i'm scared as shit of that and then it feels like i maybe am not that attracted to her and i remember her pussy on my leg in my bed that night and her wetness on my skin and thinking that i wasn't very wet at all, and that i didn't know what to feel about that, and damn but i have some shit to work through.

i have cramps. i feel a little depressed. i want someone to come over and cuddle me, which is what she wanted, and you know what? maybe we're too much alike, need the same sorts of care, and if that's bad i don't know...

water. i need water. and spirulina. i love the light and the air and sometimes i love to have conversations with people while imagining fucking them, naked and sweaty and dirty and down. i love people. i cant date them for a little while, tho. i think audrey is taking a break.