to be a less a frayed

the BBbb, t and '' keys on ttthe keybbboard of tttthis old lapttop stttick

i'm ttired of editing everytthing so intttensely so i''m' leaving it for now y''all can deal.

i have been dreaming again, almostt always ttthte plot is ttthatt i have moved ttto a new aparttmentt or my apartttmenttt is somehow differentt and wrong, in ttthis dream i watttched paralyzed as my cattt dandy fell off tthe roof and when i gott tto her her littttlte leg was broken attt wrong angles. tthen someone cutttt off thtte heads of bothtt my cattts, butt like tthtat tscene in princess mononoke tthe deer god's head survives and reunittes and i knew if i could save thte heads i could have them sewn back on, i kept tasking my mottther tto help me butt was ignored, i put jauffre''s head in a bowl of icy water and saw thte wide yellow eyes frozen, ttthe other i finally gott sewed and she seemed tto recover though slightly damaged and not fully connectted
then i learned in thte dream tthatt upon completttion of college the next sttep for me was somehow to go back tto freshman year of high school, like, that''s just how it's' done, didn''t you know, and i was sitting in the classroom panicking that i'd have to do it all over again and oh god the vauge cloud of misery that represents high school in my memories, i could pass all these classes in my sleep i did it once already plus, plus now i got trainin' (the t key stopped sticking cool)
sarah palin was in my class and laughed broadly at my surliness. she had a giant piece of something on her teeth and i did not tell her, smug cunt.

i am just today obsessed with the notion that my life is made extremely difficult by the imposition of my own self-hatred.
it is like how we insist on peeling bananas from the bottom when the nubby bottom end is really the top you should peel. can you flip your mental image; i cannot

negligence

things seem to keep going wrong; last night i thought to myself "oh be careful don't spill the soup on your computer" just one second before the rim slipped my fingers and i spilled soup on my macbook pro. i want to blame the moon or a wandering curse rather than my ineptitude. the macbook is drying much less quickly than my hope, which is a desert indeed. i am on the old powerbook g4 now and she is like revisiting an old friend, the metal casing more silken and comfortable, the weight and warmth on my lap and a screen big and matte that i want to fall into like another world's sky.

something i think that is true about myself is the closeness with which i clutch my emotional deck. i have done a whole lot of moping on the internet, though, so this is where i come. surrogate realities aren't supposed to be healthy but i have been here for awhile and the rest of the world only journeys further in; enter one of my life's major dichotomies: a religious reverence and passion for nature with the other foot firmly planted in pixels.

it feels good to write on this keyboard, the keys are softer on the edges though they require more robust fingers; i imagine this is how another generation found typewriters

i don't know how long it has to be this way; my vision is blurry i am so tired and my tongue is tethered to secretary-speak. i don't know if i'll ever be strong enough to go back to school (financially), the more i feel like i am failing myself on all of my potential futures out of rabbit-fear the more i feel like a big old cliche
i find it difficult to stand up for myself because it's less painful to shut it away; disengage. i bought jeans on ebay and when they arrived they were clearly counterfeit, didn't fit, and had a broken zipper. the seller charged me $12 to ship it in a $4.75 flat rate envelope (i know these things because i ship a lot of legal documents in flat rate envelopes). i wrote a very polite and frank refund request to send back with the jeans and it's sitting next to me just making me ill, confronting someone who is clearly a random asshole trying to play me for a rube. it makes me feel so darkly bruised; deeply embarrassed, to think i may make someone feel ashamed or resentful toward me. i recognize that i "should not"' feel this way.
i don't know how to be more brave in the ways that matter

yellow times & home love

got to get back on this pony

gonna do it

also i took down that last post because i guess even with a disclaimer sometimes people don't like when you write "whore" on your own face and then you can't decide if everyone's laughing at you for being a fat retard or not
it's cool though

Last night I dreamed that I moved to a new apartment on a whim, because it seemed kind of cool, but then the sudden loss of my old home crumpled me to the floor and i woke up in an emotional pain, relieved not to have displaced myself.

Soon I'll be going to my job, which is about all I do lately. I feel that I work hard, but it and a combination of other things have given me a recent fear of putting myself out in the world. This kind of sucks and I'd like to get over it.

i am sad

my dog died is dead

well maybe it is just that time of year

or maybe it's the time of man

i don't know who i am

but you know life is for learning

we are star dust

we are golden