PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

i don't need any glasses just to have a drink

Friday, Dec. 27, 2002
I have a few things on my mind and yet I donít feel like talking about being ignored. Paybacks are hell. Thatís all I can say. Why is it that the guys you arenít interested in insist on being interested in you? And then thereís only one person I am interested in and I always feel like I have to fight for that. I just hate how that always feels like thatís how it really is. Even if its not. I said hello twiceÖthatís one too many. Fuck it. Iím not interested in that anymore.

I got a different bracelet. I donít know how I feel about this one. Itís pawnable and thatís always a good thing. Pawnable and bankable and nothing I would pick for myself. And yeah Iím ungrateful and pissy about it and so what.

I think Iím going to move, get a new address, a new isp, a new phone number and say fuck all. I am so full of anger and resentment and bullshit feelings that I need to hole up in a room alone somewhere for a long long time and spit it all out onto blank pages and hollow walls and morph back into something that resembles normalcy.

AngerÖitís the biggest emotion I have right now. I want to smash things, and lately I have. I watch glasses shatter across my tile floors so often that I am now buying cans of drinks because the glasses are outnumbered by my anger. My shelves are bare and my heart is barbed wire. Anything and anyone that gets near and does anything questionable or wrong..makes me want to spew forth hot lava words. I want to scream and rant and rave and rip off the limbs of anyone that comes close to me.

Someone asked me tonight if he could hang out with me and I said yes. I looked forward to it, just buying someone coffee and talking about something that had nothing to do with my shit circumstances. And then he bailed. He had a change of plans, a change of desire, something moved away from his wanting to talk with me. And this shouldnít have mattered. If you donít want to talk to me..so what, who cares?? I doÖsadly I always do. I have to learn to not care.

I am me. Iím pretty fucking amazing. I have tons of wonderful things to give, tons of pretty thoughts, a vast viewpoint on the world, and I am more than anything that has been taken away from me.

And I donít want my back rubbed by someone that not only have I never met but someone that is supposed to worry about being my friend. I donít want anything like that from anyone if truth be known. I want my skin to remember that we were happy once being virginal and alone. I want to find that peace within. I know that I need to find these things before I can ever again find anything worthwhile. Because right now I just want to rip someoneís face off and spew acid words through their brain. I have to get past this anger somehow. Itís so much bigger than me.

I pity the next person that tells me Iím having a pity party, because Iím not. This isnít me pitying me. This is my finally letting myself feel angry about the shit thatís gone down in my life for the last 3 years. Iím now finally not hurting about it. I am fucking angry. And from what my former therapist told me, I will vacillate between these two and then one day I will be resigned and move on. Fuck I canít wait for that day. Right now if I had Bernie the Therapists phone number Iíd call him and ask him why my vacillation is like a see saw on a crowded playground. Heíd talk to me about his bird analogies and Iíd start to cry and heíd tell me we were progressing and at least I wouldnít be hammering out a bunch of bullshit into a diary read by people Iíve never seen. Oh what a weak and sad existence I sometimes have.

I just walked around the corner and looked at my son sleeping on the marshmallow couch and yeahÖok Ö.Iím going to go download some more Leonard Cohen and call myself lucky again.

Donít even try to talk to me; I am exercising my strength in not needing you, and I'm doing it with silence.

-PoeticaL
1:05 a.m. ::
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