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life stuff i guess

So apparently there's this thing called the calm before the storm. It's a saying or a metaphor. A cliche. Whatever it is, I can attest to its validity and truth. Somehow though, I've completely missed the storm and am now straight in the middle. Caught in the eye where everything's being trashed around you and you're standing still and calm, dead centre of it all. I'm leaving home. Or I've been kicked out. But really, but it doesn't mater either way because in the end, it's pretty much the same shitfest. I'm an unemployed, 19 year old, college dropout with 90 dollars to her name listening intently to Rachmaninoff trying to find hidden meaning in the music. There's something beautiful in his piano concertos that speaks of romance, fairytale and new life. All the while, there's the biting edge of something darker. A depressed man without meaning when not creating music. It's his saviour and my comfort. I recommend Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, the Moderato but all of it is beautiful.

I don't know. I only want to talk about the music because it's the only thing that can feel right now. I just feel numb and sort of void (calm like I said) while the music has all this passion and life, history and meaning. It's more beautiful than me. It's worth talking about. Even the static humm, the white noise just underneath the notes, probably from when it was ripped from a vinyl record, comforts me. Or maybe it's that. Maybe it has nothing to do with the music, maybe it's just the empty white noise in the background that's allowing my brain to listen and not think. It feels like I'm the extra in my own play, not a very original simile I know.

I want to write more since writing's always been very cathartic for me but all I keep on typing is 'I don't know'. I can't think of any different words. My new mantra is just surrounding me, filling every stray synapse so that I feel like I'll never lose this feeling. The fear that follows those words will pave and cement themselves along my brain and I'll be hard-wired for the rest of my life to fear the unknown. Now that I'm getting to the end of my tangible thoughts all I can feel is a weight on my chest, right in the centre even though I'm laying on my stomach. A hand around my throat, clawing at my vocal chords and windpipe. I'm being suffocated from the inside out and the static is all that's keeping me sane. The silent breaks and pauses between the music is too much. The people around me are oh so very different and yet, the same. I have nothing to say but I can't stop typing because what else am I going to do. What happens when I stop and shut my laptop off. What happens to me. I'm going to be swallowed whole by the world and all that'll remain is a minute digital signature filled with a few scared words.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better. I really fucking hope so.

p.s. I'm really sorry for the shit use of tenses. Really, it's like continuity doesn't even exist anymore.
I've spent the day in this room in this house with the window open.

There was a thunderstorm today and the wind blew the rain in through the open window to soak the carpet at my feet. Afterward the air smelled gorgeous, tangibly clean as if spring had come in and scrubbed away all the smoke and grime left over from winter. The sun's setting and I'm finally excited in what feels like a very long time. Summer's coming. Summer's heat and opportunity and change is just over the horizon. I've never been excited for the New Year's, it was always just an arbitrary day in the middle of the shitfest that is 'the year'. But the summer was always brilliant.. No matter what happened throughout the year, summer was always just around the corner. Whether it was spent working, hanging out with family and friends or holed up alone in a room in a time far from here, summer was always a reprise. A break from the harrowing cold and effort of winter. The summer sun gives me a stronger reason to get up before noon than any class, alarm or event out there. The cool nights spent swimming, drinking and smoking always more interesting when spent in the company of the sounds of nature. The grasshoppers and moths and flickering lights of airplanes and stars.

I once spent a summer up north in Whitehorse with family and the sun would set there at 11pm sometimes 12am and rise again at 3 or 4. Although I hated the hiking and the fishing and the camping and the musquitos, l loved being able to always feel summer. The definite proof of the world turning and changing and the differences between places on this earth. I would think, just like I am now, that somewhere else in this world I'm handing over the responsibility of winter. That on the other side of the world people are just beginning to forget what it feels like to have the sun all day. That for now, it's my chance to be optimistic and start fresh.

I've made it through another year by sheer force of will and obstinacy. My refusal to give in wholly to feeling nothing. Because as much as the summer's beautiful, it's the winter that puts it in perspective for me. My ability to keep going on despite the fact that even as I try to hold on, I'm also breaking everything around me. That despite the fact I'm now an unemployed college dropout with 14 dollars to her name currently living at home, I can still look forward to the summer; to a new haircut, barbecues, new job, old friends and the fucking mosquitoes that just can't take a hint. I'm looking forward to having my window open all day and letting in the bees and moths and the wind they fly in on. I'm looking forward to therapy and the passage of time. I want to work and get to a point where I feel tired because I did something that day, not because the world is overwhelming me. And right now, that feels possible. That I can work to better myself in the next four months. That by the time September rolls around I can accept the burden of winter and enjoy the snow and cold for what it is, just the passing of the seasons.

I've got one last cigarette left and a doctor's appointment tomorrow to talk about quitting. I'm listening to my happy music playlist. I'm writing and reading and applying for jobs. There's an add for a porn shop and although I'm probably mixing porn and reality again, I think it'd be funny if I applied.

Feel free to ignore this

People say the best way to get things off your chest is to write them down. Or see a psychiatrist. Since I can't afford a good psychiatrist at the moment, I'm going to write them down: my feelings.

One, I have many feelings. That seems almost asinine to think and feels genuinely stupid writing down but it's the truth and the only place I could think to start from. And it's not always apparent at first what I'm feeling. As if your body goes one way and your mind another and only after a while does your brain catch up to your body but by that time your mind is off somewhere else or something like that.

And I'm a crier too. It really fucking sucks but there's just something in my hormonal response system that opens the tear glands wide open in stressful situations. Half the time I'm just really fucking angry and I'll still end up crying. I've tried a lot of different hings too to clamp the waterworks. Pain from biting my tongue or cheek (my nails aren't strong/long enough to dig into my palms), blinking really fast, slowly breathing in and out, thinking of cute, little fluffy things. But no, all of them seem as ineffective as controlling the faucet as a sketchy plumber you found for cheap at the back of the yellow pages. You know the kind, the ones that look like they got into the business by watching too many 70s pornos as a kid. The only thing that on occasion does help a little, is to zone out. Not think about alternate dumb things but literally think of nothing. Imagine it as being somewhere between comatose and really fucking high. The problem with that is it gets rid of all the other emotions too. Suddenly you come back to the situation at hand and realise that you really don't give a fuck about the argument. Which is good in some way because I'm guessing that's how most people view arguments after the fact. It really does suck for in the moment though, because the other person is still all riled up and now you're just indifferent.

It also means there's a lot more passiveness on your side just so you don't have to be in the conversation anymore. So many times when I'm dealing with difficult conversations I feel like it's all one-sided. I just can't muster the energy to actually state my opinion because it's just easier to lie and agree so that I don't have to be there anymore.

I's interesting how something so biological as crying and the societal character flaws that come with the stereotype of a blubbering female have influenced the way I act in arguments and dealing with highly stressful situations. I don't want to be the girl that constantly cries when things aren't going her way. Instead, I just bottle it in and try not to care. Not the healthiest thing to do. *sigh*

I signed up!

HEY. HEY. YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE REALLY AWESOME? IF YOU ALSO SIGNED UP AND WROTE FIC AND DREW ART. THAT WOULD BE PRETTY COOL.


Click the banner to sign up

THANK YOU BODY. NO REALLY, CONTINUE.

So apparently my body has decided that as a present for April fool's day it needs me awake for the whole day to experience it fully.

I haven't slept at all.

Which would be fine except it's not because I'm really tired and would like to sleep. Please.

ALSO, I would really like to sign up for the Dean/Cas BB but I've never written more than 6000 words for a single story and to be completely honest, it might have really just been 6000 words of porn with the premise of plot in order to get more porn in (hint:it was).

AND, Fuck April fool's day. By 9am I've already been had like 4 times and I haven't even left the house yet   -__-

ON THE OTHER HAND, this is awesome: http://www.therandomact.org/
Click it. You won't regret it. Well, maybe a little but it's the nice kind of shame.

SO.

Hello One and All

This is my first entry so bear with me while I try not to fuck shit up too much.

I've decided that for my first entry I'm going to post a poem that I wrote that I kinda like but think it could use some feedback. BE WARNED: I like alliteration far more than is necessary and spell things the Canadian way
Here be a Poem called WordsCollapse )

........
So that's that I guess.