dad’s in the hospital with a TIA and blocked right artery.
i don’t know what else to say that i haven’t said already, and i’ve lulled myself into a kind of semi-dissociative feel-nothing state, which possibly isn’t healthy, but feels less like the whole world is caving in on me, so i’m not going to force myself out of it by elaborating any further on a blog that nobody reads.
i just. i want to disappear. i want to turn into a star. i want to shine light and beauty onto everyone and everything but not have to interact with anyone to do it. i’m tired of the pain. the pain never stops. every moment is pain. and just when you think it’s let up, something else happens.
i can’t take it anymore. i am not large or strong enough to hold all this.
I had a very bad dream…like a reservoir in a summer drought.
I don’t know how things got the way they are…but I hate them. I hate this. I don’t know why it’s like this or why nobody fucking talks to one another to fix things and I just…I hate it here. Hate it hate it hate it so much.
and i hate
and i hate
and i hate and i hate elevator music the way we fight the way i’m left here silent
I’m trying to write it out, to make sense of it, but the words are as caught inside like caged tigers, just like the tears. I’m so fucking tired.
at a low, low ebb, and not sure what i want to do with this blog, ultimately…or even if it’s in its right form. i think it’s in the right place, but it’s not very…typical-blog-esque. not very daily. not that i’m disparaging daily blogging/journalling at all (i in fact found it very helpful, when i was in the swing of it), but this isn’t it, it’s…thoughts. swirls. half-formed little curls of rose incense smoke twisting beneath raspberrypeach sherbet sunsets.
i bit off far more than i could chew in december/january, and now i’m exhausted.
i realised that i can’t remember the last time i had a truly, honestly happy day while here…because i haven’t. my last truly happy day was my birthday in ’21, before here. here is just…hate, hate, hate, hate. i hate all of it. i hate my body and i hate the situation online and i hate that i’m tired all the time and i hate summer and i hate and i hate and i hate and i hate.
five attempts, countless dangerous situations walked into without caring. scar tissue. hate that, too.
i’m so tired of crying.
i miss the snow boy. so much. i don’t know why.
he’d vomit in his mouth if he saw me now.
…most everyone who used to know me would, i think.
And the moon hangs above like a Valium pill And I say I’ll be fine, but I don’t think that I will But today I got work, and I like it that way It’s a case of a still life gone cinèma verité
And I still need the beauty of words sung and spoken And I live with the fear that my spirit will be broken And that’s the way I thought it would be…that’s the way I always wanted it to be.
[The elves] became sad, and their art (shall we say) antiquarian, and their efforts all really a kind of embalming–even though they also retained the old motive of their kind, the adornment of earth, and the healing of its hurts.
Arwen. (Or Kirryn; take your pick.) Actual elf. Seclusive bohemian, weaver of webs, rara avis.
basically...
dob - 15 March locale - Brisbane, Queensland, Australia image song - "Little Baby Nothing", Manics likes - music, dogs, Middle-earth, magical girls, sleeping, reading, poetry, red wine, static webdesign dislikes - summer, false niceness, TERFs, bad webdesign, Christian bigotry/zealotry contact - em@il (that's it)
currently...
working on - revamping the umbrella network + a semisecret project reading - "The Two Towers", J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Ghosts of Rose Hill", R.M. Romero listening to - Suede, Manics, and plenty of Enya (for chill/sleeping reasons) watching - nothing currently playing - also nothing, unless Unpacking counts wishing - It would stop raining for five goddamn minutes
favouritism...
band - Manic Street Preachers, Suede, BTS, U2 (bite me), The Moody Blues, BUMP OF CHICKEN singers - Tori Amos, Vienna Teng, John Farnham, Dar Williams authors - J.R.R. Tolkien, R.M. Romero, Francesca Lia Block, Yoshimoto Banana poets - Lenore Kandel, Langston Hughes, Shinji Moon, Simon Armitage book - "The Lord of the Rings", J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Pillow Book", Sei Shounagon
colour - jacaranda purple, sea blue