I don’t know anything anymore. I trudge on, I have all these damn emotions that I can’t seem to wrangle and it feels like they splatter on the people I love the most. I say the wrong things at the wrong time and I make it worse by rambling on about inane things. I wish I was the girl I used to be before I got married. I was strong and confident and more able to deal with all the shit in my head. I don’t see any of that girl in me anymore. I am afraid of everything. I hide behind this layer of giggles and stupid. I don’t know how to find the me I was or to become the me I am supposed to be. I don’t know what interests me anymore. I can’t create art. I crave it, but I don’t do it. Maybe fear of rejection or maybe fear of what my art will show me. I am 34 years old and I don’t know who I am. That is pretty pathetic really.

One thing that I do know is that I love. I don’t say it often enough and I ahahah don’t say it right, but I do. Fiercely. And loving that way can hurt. It sometimes makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry until it’s all out. I do need to find out who I am before that love can make more sense, but I will and then look out.

I think I’ve lost my way. I don’t know what I am doing anymore. I am so very tired.

/rant

I’m tired. I’m tired of wanting and wanting and not getting. I am tired of being let down by people. I am tired of even caring. I am tired of worry and stupid people doing stupid things. I am tired of going to school and not knowing what I want to do with the education I am getting. I am tired of being sick and I am tired of being tired.

I just want to go. I want to travel this world and see and do and fuck and sing and explore. I want to meet people who have never been to America. I want to learn new languages by immersing myself in them. I want to stomp in rain puddles in London and see the green green green of Scotland. Nairn, in fact. It’s a golf resort town. I don’t like golf, but I still want to go there.

I want him to whisper dirty things in my ear as we fuck. I want to come screaming under him only to start all over again after a few minutes of gasping. I want to break furniture and make the neighbors sigh with envy. The kind of fucking you need a few days to recover from. The kind of fucking that lays it all bare.

I want to paint and sculpt things from clay. I want to create outer manifestations of the results of all this fucking. Giant sculptures of metal and glass that make people shiver to look upon. Make their nipples hard and their lips tremble.

I want to not be afraid. I want to think that I am capable of doing these things and be fearless enough to try them.

The wind and Dr. Who

Today I am in a good mood. It’s actually a wonderful thing because I haven’t been in a good mood in a couple of weeks now. I have had the sads. No need to go into why, but they have been deep and all encompassing. To the point that my mother asked me no fewer than 4 times if I was alright. Today, I AM alright. It has been raining really hard for 3 days and today the wind is blowing hard. I am hoping for power outage so that I can go home and take a nap. Though I did get up an hour later than normal today because, apparently, I turned off my alarm. I am just lucky I always wake up and look at the clock at 8:05. For a few moments I contemplated calling in sick, but in the end I decided I needed money more than more sleep.

I love the wind. It makes me feel all invigorated to be out in it. Earlier I was standing out there and the wind caught the bun in my hair and it felt like someone was tugging it. It was odd and sort of great. Weather like this always makes me all tingly and wish I had someone to…tingle with.

The last couple of days, I have been watching the first season of the BBC show Dr. Who. Holy shit, I love it! I am mad for the 9th Dr., whom I just figured out only lasts until the end of season one. Sawb. I am assured that I will be mad for the 10th Dr as well.

I have had the urge to start writing again, lately. I have this story brewing in my head and it’s sort of been there for months. I worry that I wont do it justice. It has been many years since I wrote anything longer than a blog post. I used to write short stories all of the time. I feel like I need to get some more knowledge before I can write well though. I’ve been in this bubble of hermit that I am trying harder and harder to break out of. Also, I want to paint. I want to experiment with watercolours. I have been a horrible niece and have still not painting my aunt’s Christmas present. Horrible horrible! I need to do that. Just painting will help some of this residual shit in my head. Of course, when I am sad like that I don’t feel like writing or painting or crocheting, even though I have things I need to do and quickly. Time has been slipping away from me lately, though. Which is sort of very weird, because I am usually hyperaware of time. But lately, weeks can pass and I think it has just been a couple of days. It’s annoying and starting to get me into trouble.

Lady Stardust...

I am having a cranky, crappy day. Little sleep and lots of annoying people are contributing to this, but there is one thing that is keeping me from going on a killing spree. That is David Bowie's The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars album. I've had it on repeat since 8 this morning. I am surprised my coworker isnt going crazy from the repetition at this point. The song Lady Stardust has me all mellow and singing along in between spurts of irritation and foul language. Someone (Damon, I am almost sure) told me that this song is about Marc Bolan from T. Rex.

People stared at the makeup on his face
Laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace
The boy in the bright blue jeans
Jumped onto the stage
And lady stardust sang his songs
Of darkness and disgrace
And he was alright the band was altogether
Yes he was alright the song went on forever
And he was awful nice
Really quite out of sight
And he sang all night long
Femme fatales emerged from the shadows
To watch this creature fair
Boys stood upon their chairs
To make their point of view
I smiled sadly for a love I could not obey
And lady stardust sang his songs
Of darness and dismay
And he was alright the band was altogether
Yes he was alright the song went on forever
And he was awful nice
Really quite paradise
And he sang all night long
Oh how I sighed when they asked if I knew his name
And he was alright the band was altogether
Yes he was alright the song went on forever
And he was awful nice
Really quite paradise
And he sang all night long

For some reason David Bowie's music always gives me a fantastic sense of calm. It may be where it takes my brain. A sort of comfort food for my brains, if you will. *laughs* I'm a nerd, but I'm calm and that sort of rocks. Especially since I was in a fury just minutes ago.

Today has been a lovely day. It started out a little crappy. The other day I ordered a very expensive text book online and they took my money and then sent an email saying they didn’t have the book in stock any longer and were returning my monies. Well today they finally returned it and I went online to order the book from somewhere else and the price of the book had gone up so much that I could no longer afford it. So I was freaking out because the class starts a week from today. So I emailed my Student Advisor and told her the issue and she was all “How about I switch you from Math to Life Drawing?” I quickly looked up the books and the three books for that class together are cheaper than the one for the Math class. How fucked up is that? So I am taking Life Drawing and Visual something or another starting next Thursday. I love art classes so it should be fun. Though I suck at drawing so it may just be an exercise in frustration. BUT I would rather that than math.

Then a friend told me about something that was cool that I am not going to write about here because it isn’t my happy to share, but its really cool and contributes to my happy.

It’s raining really really hard today. I just want to go out and jump in puddles, but its more fun with a friend and I don’t really have any. I do really. I have some of the best friends a girl could ask for, but none of them are in the town I live in…in most cases not even the state and in some cases not even the country.

It’s 15 minutes until I get to go home and that pleases me greatly. I just want to be at home.

Hiccups

Today has been crazy busy, but suddenly it's quiet and I can breathe. The fucked up part of the busy has been that I have had the hiccups for two days and and talking to people is becoming increasingly difficult. I'm in a fairly good mood though. Which is sort of amazing for a busy monday when I has the evil hiccups of doom. I had more to say, but I cant remember what it was, so more later maybe.