Look at this woman's beautiful photographs. Here They are so scary. She made them between 1970 and 1981 and then jumped out of her window to her death at age 23. Bloody art. So dangerous.
So what's the deal? Hardly any blogs this week. Shall I be honest and boring or make something up? There's just been nothing really. On the one hand I've been settling into a comfortable contentment that I haven't felt in quite a while. Had housing problems since I moved to Montreal that have always kept me on edge and seeped into all other parts of my life. Finally, at our new place, we can live in peace. I shudder in superstitious fear just typing it, but it's true. T and I are slowly unfolding into our human selves again. Living and being with the T is the best and happiest thing I've done. With a peaceful home to be together in, it makes life seem like it has a beautiful point to it. Yet, at the same time, a nasty chemical cloud of depression and anxiety is knocking about in my brain. Such an odd mix of feelings. It's like an unwelcome visitor that you know will just show up whenever it wants and won't leave until it's ready and when it comes, you let it in and try to carry on as normal until if fucking decides to leave again.
I write this as if it were a personal diary. What the hell though. I've always been a huge fan of truth. I love to hear the truth. And what else will I say anyway? I'm not a writer and I can't invent.
Here's the thing; I should not communicate with the world during PMS. Look at this blog entry! In the olden days, instead of publicly ranting about my insanity I would use the phone to work out all my heaving emotional issues. Can I get a "HEY!" from my girl peeps on that one? Calling up some asshole to show him/her a thing or 2 and winding up cementing the image of "psycho basket-case" that s/he had already pegged you for. Or calling some other loser, all weepy, begging for the care you deserve only to realize 10 minutes later that s/he's a complete moron who is AWFUL in bed and why in god's name are you lying to him/her by pretending to love or give a rat's ass about him/her when really, you barely even like them but you just want some validation for craps sake! I'm even tempted to call a few of them now to inform them that any attention they got from me was from a place of complete and utter self-loathing and could I, I would remove that portion of my life with a knife and light it on fire.
Ha ha. I just deleted an entire ranting paragraph about people I have previously known (male people) and what I would like them all to know about our times together. It wasn't friendly or pretty and even though I deleted it, it's darkness is still looming in the ether somewhere, bringing evil wherever it drifts. Don't you hate when you think about people you wasted precious time with and all you feel is an overwhelming desire to have a 4 day shower to clean the icky-icky memories off. Uh....
So my parents are coming to visit tonight for the the weekend. Lucky them! Hopefully I'll have kicked off some of the brain-stink by then. What a mishmash of genetic randomness hath sprung me forth. And now, I'm speaking in old english.
I think that's the signal to stop."Really?! You figure THAT'S the signal to stop? Good call trainwreck!"
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