Merry Christmas

Hey all

Christmas has come late to me this year, its boxing day and I still don't really feel it.

I guess it will hit me Christmas day, or boxing day... I hope it hits soon, I am back to work on the 27th. No rest for the wicked they say.

Still, Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.

Betrayal

I held my ground. I said to myself, I will not tell the "shared" friends what she has done to me. When those people hate her, it will be because she has taken them for granted/been cruel and disrespectful of them/hurt them, not because they have been influenced by me. When she is alone, she will have done that to herself.

I have some distance now, and I can talk about it somewhat objectively. At the time, I wanted to cut her out of my life because everytime I saw her she reminded me of the pain. Now I still want her out of my life, but because I can not trust her, do not need people in my life who treat me the way she did and because in the end this is better for her too, as you can not learn to respect and not hurt others if there are no repercusions. So that is my choice.

I will not say what she did. But I will say how it felt. When you have been friends with a person for a long time, there is an inherent trust there. You expect that person to talk to you about what is going on in their life, and you expect that you can reasonably trust them to act in your best interests, to respect the things you value. And when you discover that you can't, you die a bit. A part of you that trusts people, that expects others to be decent and honest is gone forever. You start looking twice at the people around you, expecting them at any moment to become raging monsters or dark shadows. You start crossing the street to get away from the whispering steps of someone walking behind you, and putting distance between yourself and tree trunk, dark alleys, heavy foliage, and large groups of people. You find nothing funny, and the laughter of others becomes a sound of treachery and evil. The ground seems a little less solid, the stars a little too close, and the buildings a little too angular.

She has always treated me badly. She loved to tell people all about how she had learnt to "tune me out" when I was "babbling". I knew even then that she needed me, the people who surrounded us were always friends of mine. And all too often she would ignore, or say spiteful things to any one of them. But no matter how badly she behaved she expected them to do everything she wanted. And no matter how badly she behaved, I forgave her, because we had been friends for so long, and it always seemed like not such a big deal in the light of that.

For every person, no matter how forgiving or how tolerant, there is always a line. No matter what you are prepared to put up with, there will be things that are unforgivable. Perhaps she thought I had no such line, perhaps I had been so tolerant in the past that in a way she thought I had given her permission to do what she did. But I have a line, just like everyone else. I have never been one to ask for much for myself, but I found something that I wanted, and then she tried to take that thing from me. I am not sure what she thought would happen, that I would give it to her as I had done before, that I would be so upset that I wouldn't notice what she tried to do, that I would never find out. I expect that she didn't think that I would choose this over her, that I would hold her accountable for her actions. Perhaps she doesn't know me as well as she thinks.

I expect that by now she will have twisted what happened until it comes out looking favourably to her, or at least till she looks like a bystander or an innocent victim. I know that she does that, I can tell you all about the stalking incident *cough* or the they-did-nothing-for-my-birthday fiasco or the "do you think I gave him the wrong idea?" situation or any of the other items on the nine year long list. What she did to me was worse than any of those things. She broke one of the few absolute rules of friendship. No matter how she twists it, I know what happened, I was there, and nothing she can do or say can change that.

Funnily enough I don't know that many people who read my blog will have any idea what I am talking about, though some can probably guess. Its just to document my thoughts really. I am scared that I may have lost a friend or two over this, people who I never told what happened, and who may have ended up with her side of the story, or no side and a lot of confusion. One person in particular seems to have "taken her side" and given that I thought that person had a fair idea of what happened, and I thought that person cared about me and valued my friendship, that hurts me more than I care to admit. But the beauty of it all is that time lends enchantment to the view, and this has made me stronger, and more determined, and has brought me closer to some people that I love, and made me value all the more that thing that she tried to take from me. When it comes down to it, I found happyness, and it didn't cost me anything I wasn't ready to give.

Nothingness

I had a thought. It's gone now. But I wanted to tell you all that it was there. I am going through a bit of an artisic slump, epiphanies are few and far between, even fleeting ones. So when you think you haven't heard from me for a time, its just because my sentances have set themselves free and skipped frivolously up onto a shelf that I can't quite reach.

Here are someone elses. Someone funnier than me anyways.
Wash (pilot, Firefly): "Everything looks good from here... (pan down : playing with plastic dinosaurs over his console) Yes. Yes, this is a fertile land, and we will thrive."
(as Stegosaurus) "We will rule over all this land, and we will call it... 'This Land'."
(as T-Rex) "I think we should call it...your grave!"
(Stegosaurus) "Ah, curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!"
(T-Rex) "Ha ha HA! Mine is an evil laugh...now die!"

"with a little help"

Ringo couldn't hold a tune, and John and Paul wrote a song that was basically only one or two notes, just for him to sing. Some people say that it was mocking, and some people say that it is a tribute to what a tonedeaf man can achieve with the help of his friends. Whatever motivated them, it was a yet another beatles hit.

In my life, I have been surrounded by people. Some of them really cared about me, and some of them used me for what I had to offer. I offer tribute to a person who is perhaps the best of all of them.

There has been only one person who heard me scream within my own skull over the babbling rapids of the world around us. There has been only one person that was prepared to listen to me talk when I had nothing to say, who stopped to help me up when I was knocked down in the rush. No matter what language I spoke in he heard me, no matter where I need to be he would take me there. And no matter how I fell apart, he was always there to help me put myself back together or at least take me home so I could mend in my own time. He made me laugh when I thought the world would end, and travelled with me to worlds of my own creation, when I could not promise that I knew the way home. He let me scream at him, ignore him, judge him, and he never looked at me as less. He filed the edge of my claws of rage, and let me air all of my grievances safely. He never looked down at me, and he never treated me as though I was unintelligent or unstable, even when I was those things. He helped me to find the song that is me. And then he let me go when I found my wings.

I owe a tribute to this man for the friend he has been to me, and an appology that this tribute has been so long in coming, when I should have told him every day how important he was in my grand scheme of things. Without him I would not be who I am, and I thank him for being who he is, despite any pressure to change. May your life be filled with love, my friend, you deserve nothing less.

Thank you Adam.

Serenity

Best movie of all time.
See it.
Better yet, come by my place and watch it. Then, once you realise that you love it, allow me to subject you to the tv series that it came from. You wont regret it.
Serenity. Firefly.
"Can't stop the signal"

Reasonable

First, because I do not see the point of making friends with her knowing that she will be gone again in 3 years time and the being friends with her will complicate that.

Second, because I do not want to hurt my friend, and I think it would hurt her.

Third, because I do not wish Him to think that I condone the way that he treats people. I will not just pretend that everything is ok.

I write this done so that all those people that think I am obtuse and confusing and flighty could see if they knew where to look that my "emotional decisions" are well thought out and logical.

Lack of a fairy godmother.

I wish.

I wish that I could not see. So I would not see the sorrow of others. He ends his relationship. He meets another girl, loves her all consuming. Then he decides he does not love her. He ends the relationship. He meets another girl. Would it help if I said - you should expect this from him, he did it to the one before you, he does it to you, he will do it to the one who follow you. He is a serial killer of hearts, it is his MO (modus operandi - way of doing things). Would it help her to know that he will be empty all his life, for he does not know what love is, does not recognise it, does not know that it is more than a feeling in his gut? She is still hurting. And he does not know what pain is, the pain of a love spurned by one who is ignorant of the extent of feeling. She feels at the edges, fully and freely, she knows complete joy and deepest sorrow, the searing pain and the soothing calmness. He knows nothing of this, he is passionless, he is ever at the emotionless middle.

He thinks that we shall be friends forever. He cannot fathom the contempt I feel for him over the agony he thoughtlessly plasters over the innocent faces of the strangers that I come to love.

I wish that I could not see. So I could not see him running in circles as a dog chasing his tail, and savagely tearing at the gentle hearts that reach to help him. So I could not see how she will stand tall, and walk on, bleeding and believing that she is dead inside but still walking. So I could not see how I have come to love and failed so miserably to help this proud little warrior.

I see that you are broken.
It has been done again,
He goes inside and tears you to pieces.

I am sorry.
I could no more stop it than the tide.

I can not heal you;
You wished for this.
And I;
Have no more duct tape.

I wish that I had written this about the afforementioned situation. It kills me that He is not the first of my friends that I have shed like a dying skin for the pain they inflict on others. That is the saddest part. Now I must choose a path, and no path that I can see is without blood or tear shed. Some one will hurt here. Even my inaction is not an easy option. None of this would have happened if He had a thought for the people around Him.

Do you think its unfair to ask someone to become a different person?

Illness

And now I am not well. My head pounds with the rhythm of a thousand drums, and swims through vast oceans of nothingness. My love tells me to rest, and I can only barely moan, " I am restless, how can I rest when rest itself has forsaken me". He is on the mend, I know only that this too shall pass.

It will soon be easter. And at easter I will go away with my family to a place where the wind sweeps the beach clear of any footfalls, and sweeps my soul clear of all the rubble that it collects as I go about life. Health and rest and wellbeing all come from this place, where life began, and begins always. I anticipate.

Heat

Yesterday rain poured from the sky like the dam of heaven had burst and was threatening to flood the plains. They must have gotten it under control though, as I assume they have access to an abundance of superman, MacGyver and Nightrider up there. Today there is no rain. Today the sun is beating down on bleached wood, and the sun loving insects and animals that bask in the desert are looking for a place to hide. I think the pants may have been a mistake.

My love is home from work today, feeling very sick and asleep in bed. I think stress is doing this to him. He got hit by the 'flu, yes the real 'flu not just a cold, the dizziness and nausea and exhaustion tipped me off, and he was off work for 2 weeks. Yesterday he woke up with a migraine and today he is still feeling sick. He is working too hard at work, long hours, and on top of that he is trying to complete his thesis also. I think its stress, but that doesn't stop him feeling sick now does it?

I miss my cat. She came along when I most needed a friend; she loved me and only me, and taught me about self worth. She let me cry, pour out my anger and neuroses to her and did not judge, or tell me that I was wrong or stupid. She let me grow, was an unchanging and immutable thing that let me always have something to come home to. And now that I am grown, she has left me. And I am hurting. You would have thought she could have come up with some slightly more tactful way of saying that I was old enough and ugly enough to look after myself. But I suppose if she had then I wouldn't have believed her. God I miss her so much, it is a raw wound that I can't seem to leave alone long enough to heal. She lived with my mum, its not like I was going to see her when I got up in the morning, but the thought of going there and not seeing her, of her just not being there, is something I can not comprehend.

Broken hourglass

I am feeling older, and less like I have a voice. Once my words soared on the wings of giant, sun-loving birds; now those birds are extinct, driven mad by the endless chattering of my thoughts, when there was not a meaningful sentence among them. This is sounding a little disillusioned. Let’s move on.

I am frustrated by the online world that I visit regularly, because within it there are so many children. I have a guild, and that guild is torn and rent asunder by 16 year olds who feel they are on par with gods, and yet have no sense of responsibility and management and purpose. I feel like a very old person who repeats over "these days the young have no respect, or responsibility" like some twisted kind of clock that mocks the minutes as they flee. When I was a child they told me that this kind of thought was in my future. I knew everything and did not believe them. My god, what else were they right about?

Mostly I am just old, which saddens me, because yesterday I was a child, and I am hurt and insulted that old would sneak up on me and surround me and envelop me and BECOME me, without letting me know what I was in store for. It was rude, and I would have no part of it.

Don't listen to me.

I am having hard days, because I am job hunting and I hate doing so, it makes the world move slowly and everything dull and dreary and uneventful.

I am also having hard days because my writing frustrates me. I know that I can at least write, the well is questionable, but I can communicate my thought. But I put pencil to paper and nothing happens. Not for lack of hand wriggling either. The realm that I am trying to capture is not imprinted with the crystalline clarity of new age imaging. It is words on a page, and they do nothing for me.

Its the length that confounds me I think. Make it more than a few pages and it is boring to me. And then the age old question comes to me - Anyone can write a poem, but it takes talent to write a novel. I don't always believe it; look at some of the things on sale today. But I fear it, because I fear to be talent-less at doing the thing that I love.

Ah, my fragmented thought spread across the page for the entire world to see. And as always when I am see a future in which I am vulnerable, I wonder if it is a mistake.