a clean escape.

i repainted.  generally, this just means you're tired of the color.  for me, though, it was: "i'm tired of all the memories in this dusty, teal box i'm sleeping in."  i covered up holes where pictures or posters hung that were given to me by this or that person.  things i really just didn't want to remember anymore.  i didn't want to remember who helped me paint that dark cave of a bedroom, or how many people had been in and out, laying in my bed with me.  how many people i'd hurt or had hurt me.  i wanted out of those thoughts.

i wanted NEW.  i can't get new in this town, i know, but i can try.

tomorrow i'll be making flower arrangements for the men who will buy them for their wives or girlfriends or whoevers.  i'll think about how i won't be getting one of these brilliant bouquets, but i won't be sad.  i have a love/hate relationship with gifts of any kind, giving or receiving.  i've always been a good gift-giver.  to my friends i'm generous and thoughtful.  with relationships, though, it's always too much.  it's too soon.  it's too much love (for lack of a better word) poured into things i make or buy.
for me it is, anyway. i regret it a week later when my feelings change or dissolve.

i don't think i'm afraid to love;  i'm just too naive.

there's been a significant amount of times where i have felt love, but i couldn't tell you a damn thing about it now.  if i've felt it, as quickly as i have, it has dissipated into small particles floating around in the massive space that i have no interest in wrapping my brain around.  i have love moments, and only moments.  being IN love is extremely foreign, and maintaining love is impossible.

i'm not ashamed of who i am and i'm not too self-conscious.  i'm simply just cold from time to time.
it's just as much a mystery to me as it is to anyone i've mistreated.


in the middle of the night, i woke up panicking.   sleep paralysis happens at least once a month now, and it scares the ever living shit out me.  i know i'm not the only one who experiences it, but i still feel like no one understands.  i've never been so afraid to sleep.  it never used to happen this often.

also, my dreams have been increasingly more bizarre and vivid.

on a separate note, i have feelings that i can't comprehend.  they seem to be useless.  why can't i feel this way when it's important for me to?
i always want what i can't have.
unfortunately, i learned that from someone who completely destroyed who i once was.
funny the way that works.

I've said all I needed to say tonight. I think.
My strongest opinions dealing with the current state of my life and those in it have been expressed. Both to who needed to hear it and who just care enough to listen to my fruitless rants.

My heart broke, for a friend of mine. He is so dear to me. I am so fortunate to have the life I have -- so free of utter tragedy.

In another situation: I hate biting my tongue. I'm right. I will always be right about this, but no matter stubborn I am about this I will always get torn apart by those doe eyes and that compassionate soul. I'm selfish. I don't want my best friend to leave me. Especially not to chase a love that will only lead to a destructive, miserable life. Can I say that, though?
Absolutely not.

So, where am I?
Alone in a king sized bed, defeated, confined to a small portion so I feel that there's a reason it's only me.

I'm drunk, which is all too common lately.

It's all this magical idea we've been building up, I'm afraid.