2004-07-19 - 6:12 p.m.
Into the sun we climb, climbing our wings will burn white, everyone's strapped in tight we'll ride it out, I'll be coming home next year...
The last four days have been utterly bizarre in one way or another, to the point where I wouldn't be unhappy to have a lobotomy and lie down in a dark room somewhere, occasionally muttering "..bizarre.." to myself.
Actually, I probably would mind that. Last night a fuse blew and our house was a cold and dark place. I felt like even the house itself had turned against me, and in defiance I spent a good six hours hiding under a blanket, thinking.
Of course today I have the proverbial nada to show for it, which may be just as well, unless you were particularly lusting over some echidna metaphors.
Homelife is eating me alive is all, and no matter how hard I look I can't find any other options but to let it happen, try to be zen about it, hope that when I reach a point defined as over there'll be enough of me to ... start again, keep going, whatever.
I've been thinking about taking some sleeping pills, just to get some rest. Or drinking before bed. Not that these are healthy habits, but maybe the ends justify the means. But I won't. I don't trust myself. Plus there's still a decent part of me that demands that whatever pre-sleep brain trauma I incur is somehow earned, thus deserved.
God, I have to stop screwing myself over. There are certainly better uses for my time. I'm so fucking rational, it's bizarrrrreeee.
Into the night we shine, lighting the way we glide by, catch me if I get too high when I come down, I'll be coming home next year...
If I could protect you, I'd do it. In a heartbeat. I know this at some deep molecular level, it resonates so loudly that I can almost hear it ringing in my ears.
Which is probably laughable, all things considered. I can barely protect myself, but then, I'm not so frail anymore. Funny, isn't it. The well-meaning overzealous parentals still practically fall all over themselves trying to protect me from the big bad world.
I haven't the heart to tell them it's too late. Not that they'd listen. I know the big bad world already, not all of it of course but enough. It's tainted me, and I like to hope that I've tainted it back in some minute way. We're not enemies, but I've learned enough to know when to be on my guard, learned how to grow claws and spine and teeth when necessary. I'm still here, so that must be proof of something right?
I... don't know. Maybe I'll figure it out tomorrow, maybe not. I've yet to figure out the reason for this sound in my head, so maybe I'll do that, and maybe I'll get some rest.
The last four days have been utterly bizarre in one way or another, to the point where I wouldn't be unhappy to have a lobotomy and lie down in a dark room somewhere, occasionally muttering "..bizarre.." to myself.
Actually, I probably would mind that. Last night a fuse blew and our house was a cold and dark place. I felt like even the house itself had turned against me, and in defiance I spent a good six hours hiding under a blanket, thinking.
Of course today I have the proverbial nada to show for it, which may be just as well, unless you were particularly lusting over some echidna metaphors.
Homelife is eating me alive is all, and no matter how hard I look I can't find any other options but to let it happen, try to be zen about it, hope that when I reach a point defined as over there'll be enough of me to ... start again, keep going, whatever.
I've been thinking about taking some sleeping pills, just to get some rest. Or drinking before bed. Not that these are healthy habits, but maybe the ends justify the means. But I won't. I don't trust myself. Plus there's still a decent part of me that demands that whatever pre-sleep brain trauma I incur is somehow earned, thus deserved.
God, I have to stop screwing myself over. There are certainly better uses for my time. I'm so fucking rational, it's bizarrrrreeee.
Into the night we shine, lighting the way we glide by, catch me if I get too high when I come down, I'll be coming home next year...
If I could protect you, I'd do it. In a heartbeat. I know this at some deep molecular level, it resonates so loudly that I can almost hear it ringing in my ears.
Which is probably laughable, all things considered. I can barely protect myself, but then, I'm not so frail anymore. Funny, isn't it. The well-meaning overzealous parentals still practically fall all over themselves trying to protect me from the big bad world.
I haven't the heart to tell them it's too late. Not that they'd listen. I know the big bad world already, not all of it of course but enough. It's tainted me, and I like to hope that I've tainted it back in some minute way. We're not enemies, but I've learned enough to know when to be on my guard, learned how to grow claws and spine and teeth when necessary. I'm still here, so that must be proof of something right?
I... don't know. Maybe I'll figure it out tomorrow, maybe not. I've yet to figure out the reason for this sound in my head, so maybe I'll do that, and maybe I'll get some rest.
