Friday, November 25, 2011
Answer him
Ianto Jones. Coffee-maker extraordinaire. Wearer of three-piece suits. Persistent and dependable. He loved hopelessly and helplessly and truly. He kept a mechanized girlfriend alive in the basement, trying desperately to keep her alive, to fix her, to save her. He fell for Jack, who refused to say the words, "I love you," even when Ianto lay dying in his arms. He deserved so much more than being the errand boy, the extra agent, the casual fling. Ianto Jones. He needs a song.
Worn out
It feels a lot later than it should, somehow. Perhaps getting up at six thirty this morning has something to do with that. Maybe I have done more today than I have the rest of break together. Maybe I'm still just stressed over things that are not getting done. Either way, today feels like it has been extraordinarily long.
I'm saying lots of silly things because I have nothing else flowing from me at this point in time. I'm all worn out emotionally from Torchwood, for which I wept bitterly.
I saw friends today that are still friends, but not very close friends. I don't talk to them about the most important things which shouldn't be the most important things, but they are. We talk TV, but shows that aren't tied to the center of me, my core self. We saw a daft movie, at the end of which I sat laughing until I nearly cried, it was so awful and amazing. I like retarded movies that don't mean to be retarded. If you're trying to be stupid, I'm irritated. If you think you're being cool, but failing, I laugh. What sort of person does that make me? A cynical, sarcastic, awful one, I think. I think the failure of others is more amusing than their genuine attempts to amuse me. Hmm. I liked the movie. Going to leave that thought there.
Having a style is one thing, but reusing words or phrases bothers me. I can't even reuse a distinctive word in an entirely separate post. I remember that I used it somewhere else, and it's no good. Been used; goes in the trash bin. I have no recycling bin for words.
That was a random rant, and I haven't the foggiest idea where it came from. Oh well.
I'm saying lots of silly things because I have nothing else flowing from me at this point in time. I'm all worn out emotionally from Torchwood, for which I wept bitterly.
I saw friends today that are still friends, but not very close friends. I don't talk to them about the most important things which shouldn't be the most important things, but they are. We talk TV, but shows that aren't tied to the center of me, my core self. We saw a daft movie, at the end of which I sat laughing until I nearly cried, it was so awful and amazing. I like retarded movies that don't mean to be retarded. If you're trying to be stupid, I'm irritated. If you think you're being cool, but failing, I laugh. What sort of person does that make me? A cynical, sarcastic, awful one, I think. I think the failure of others is more amusing than their genuine attempts to amuse me. Hmm. I liked the movie. Going to leave that thought there.
Having a style is one thing, but reusing words or phrases bothers me. I can't even reuse a distinctive word in an entirely separate post. I remember that I used it somewhere else, and it's no good. Been used; goes in the trash bin. I have no recycling bin for words.
That was a random rant, and I haven't the foggiest idea where it came from. Oh well.
Black Friday
Standing in line.
Read a magazine. Investigate sale fliers. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Text a friend. Pick up useless items. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Check phone for texts. Read an article online. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Grab a candy bar. Check phone again. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Put down useless items. Change ringtone. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Answer text. Hide the candy bar. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Look for Mom. Choose wrapping paper. Get to the front.
Let people pass.
Let people pass.
Let people pass.
Let people pass.
Standing in line.
Wait for Mom. Wish for coffee. Still in front.
Mom's here.
Checkout.
Read a magazine. Investigate sale fliers. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Text a friend. Pick up useless items. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Check phone for texts. Read an article online. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Grab a candy bar. Check phone again. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Put down useless items. Change ringtone. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Answer text. Hide the candy bar. Get to the front.
Go to the back.
Standing in line.
Look for Mom. Choose wrapping paper. Get to the front.
Let people pass.
Let people pass.
Let people pass.
Let people pass.
Standing in line.
Wait for Mom. Wish for coffee. Still in front.
Mom's here.
Checkout.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Impotent tears
Why would you do this to us
You offer them up
Make them breathe
Teach us their names
Tell us their stories
Expose their souls
Let us love them
We build them homes in our hearts
Accept their flaws
Cry for their pains
Fear for their safety
Laugh when they tease
Yearn for their happiness
Then you take them back.
Why would you do this to us?
You offer them up
Make them breathe
Teach us their names
Tell us their stories
Expose their souls
Let us love them
We build them homes in our hearts
Accept their flaws
Cry for their pains
Fear for their safety
Laugh when they tease
Yearn for their happiness
Then you take them back.
Why would you do this to us?
Accepting what I can't change
I like my family.
I carry on as though they are heinous and ridiculous and sometimes they are, don't get me wrong, but I do like them.
Things get awkward when they ask me about my future or my cousin treats me like I'm 15 instead of 21, but I guess if I want to be taken seriously as an adult, I need to answer their questions and lose the acne.
We are a strange bunch. Dry, almost undetectable humor is the order of the day, and most of the time it could be mistaken for outright stupidity . . . and I am considered a bit slow on the uptake because I don't understand when my uncles are trying to be amusing. Am I supposed to 'get it' when they act like they've lost their minds? . . . oh well.
My younger cousins are brats to the last child, except for one, and I find him more corrupt each time I see them. His transformation saddens me.
Aunts are more demanding than uncles. They want opportunities to brag about their own children to each other, so they grill me on my future plans, hoping to trip me up with something they can use against my mum. I hide in a corner with my phone. They can think what they like.
I like my family. We are judgmental, arrogant, selfish, and irritating. We are intelligent, amusing, sarcastic, and strong.
I think I'm okay being one of us.
Thanksgiving
All the food in the world is in me.
Or so it feels.
I ate so much starch today. Ick. Yum. Some complex mixture of the two.
PUMPKIN PIE.
Just pie. And potatoes. Lots and lots of potatoes.
These are just words and fragments of phrases that are trying to tell you what day it is today.
Or so it feels.
I ate so much starch today. Ick. Yum. Some complex mixture of the two.
PUMPKIN PIE.
Just pie. And potatoes. Lots and lots of potatoes.
These are just words and fragments of phrases that are trying to tell you what day it is today.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Today, if no one is interested
I have experienced this level of mental, physical, emotional exhaustion very few times in my life. I blink mistily at the screen because I'm not sure what I'm typing, actually. I am a blob. A lump. A thudding great heap of silence. I cannot move, but I refuse to sit here any longer. I begin to fuse with the chair. This is a wrong thing to happen.
I know I am not the first to experience this sort of hell on earth, and it's a hell of my own making, but today was awful.
I woke up at 6:15 to drop mom off at work, came back and accidentally fell asleep, so there went at least an hour I should have been using. I spent the next 2 hours pushing through a report and three page paper project that I should have started three weeks ago. Needed a shower. Showed up to class long enough to turn it in. Then I sat back down at the computer and began trying to type up the last bits of a term paper due at 2. I did part of it, then tumbled for a good hour. What is wrong with me? By that point, I had about 10 minutes to stuff a few things into it that were supposed to be references before I went to choir. Still needed a shower. Went without. I went to choir, sang, came home, researched and typed and cut and pasted frantically until 2 . . . and then after 2 . . . and I got to class 45 minutes late. Still needed a shower. Once that was turned in, I went home. I got food, watched some TV. Finally took a shower right before I had to work for two hours. I remembered to my dismay that I still needed to revise and send a second draft of an essay that I had fudged my way through the first time, so it needed a lot of work. It was also due at 2, but it was a bit late for that now. After work, I came back to the computer desk from Hades and finished going through the essay. I sent it. I remembered that I have to do a bibliography for another term paper.
I do not care. Tomorrow.
I know I am not the first to experience this sort of hell on earth, and it's a hell of my own making, but today was awful.
I woke up at 6:15 to drop mom off at work, came back and accidentally fell asleep, so there went at least an hour I should have been using. I spent the next 2 hours pushing through a report and three page paper project that I should have started three weeks ago. Needed a shower. Showed up to class long enough to turn it in. Then I sat back down at the computer and began trying to type up the last bits of a term paper due at 2. I did part of it, then tumbled for a good hour. What is wrong with me? By that point, I had about 10 minutes to stuff a few things into it that were supposed to be references before I went to choir. Still needed a shower. Went without. I went to choir, sang, came home, researched and typed and cut and pasted frantically until 2 . . . and then after 2 . . . and I got to class 45 minutes late. Still needed a shower. Once that was turned in, I went home. I got food, watched some TV. Finally took a shower right before I had to work for two hours. I remembered to my dismay that I still needed to revise and send a second draft of an essay that I had fudged my way through the first time, so it needed a lot of work. It was also due at 2, but it was a bit late for that now. After work, I came back to the computer desk from Hades and finished going through the essay. I sent it. I remembered that I have to do a bibliography for another term paper.
I do not care. Tomorrow.
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