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16 September 2015 @ 06:44 pm
things i won't admit to myself, september 2015 edition  

  1. iterating the drama of my own incompetence did not magically resolve it. dealing with this issue is going to take more work than writing clever things about it in my paper journal. fuck.

  2. dot dot dot

  3. increasingly certain i am drowning in myself.

  4. increasingly apathetic about this possibility.

  5. hello, apathetic stranger! the original occupant of this body is named judith. and you are?

  6. i seem to be deeply traumatizing myself with hunger. (see points 4 and 5)

  7. money is a problem.

  8. fucking maryland.

  9. my deep-seated belief that people fundamentally do not like me is causing problems in the basic formation and maintenance of potentially beneficial social relationships. and when i say “people,” i mean everybody. i mean eeeeverybody. my witches. my closest friends. my partner. my parents. why would anybody want to spend time with me, i think. why would anyone want to get letters from me, i think.


  11. methods i have tried to fix the ‘k’ key on ben’s fancy ergonomic keyboard that have not been successful: ignoring the problem, swearing at the problem, pleading with the problem, learning to work around the problem, rebooting the problem, attempting to faith-heal the problem. methods that would successfully fix the problem: buying ben a new fancy ergonomic keyboard. (see point 7)

  12. i wanted to love you, rose perfume balm. i wanted you to smell as heady and carnal as everyone in the smelly things forum that recommended you in 2011 said you would. instead, every time that i've tried you these entire four years that i've had you, you've combined with my chemistry to reek of scented feminine hygiene products from the early nineties. also, you do not scrub off, not even after four tries. rose perfume balm, i want to admit that you make me very sad, but instead i will put you back in my wounding perfumes box and repeat this depressing ordeal the next time i start to hope that maybe, someday, i'll be able to pull off a straight-up rose.

mood: not roses.
music: miles davis - he loved him madly
[redacted]elsewhereangel on September 16th, 2015 11:00 pm (UTC)
I want letters from you! Because you are interesting, darkly humorous and write well.

That said, I have much the same problem. I root it in my gaslighting shitshow of a family ... who I will be seeing in just over a month.
selva oscuraanonymousblack on September 16th, 2015 11:53 pm (UTC)
i think a big chunk of it goes back to my pre-k thru 12 schooling, especially, like, pre-hs bffs or, rather, those individuals i referred to as "bffs" who referred to me as "judy who?" if there were any other individuals in the immediate vicinity.

also i always AMBITION to write letters. with real stationary that i have and such. i haven't been able to do it since the early aughts, though, for reasons both sound and unbelievably stupid.

your turf or theirs?
[redacted]elsewhereangel on September 17th, 2015 11:12 pm (UTC)
Their state, they will never, ever visit me. It's ok -- I'm there to be in the area and when I do see them it's likely to be a public venue. I'm also only seeing them for dinner, which is acceptable.

My best friend from age 12-19 suddenly ghosted me. It was fucked up. I never speak of it.
selva oscura: [rs] poor mom!anonymousblack on September 19th, 2015 05:04 am (UTC)
Yeah, that's... what high school bff was doing to me in 2001, maybe without realizing it, maybe in retaliation for the way our friendship stopped after high school, which... was both of us, I think, but more visibly me.

I goofed the gaff of trying to break through the ghosting and renew our friendship. She came around, if only because she disliked confrontation almost as much as I do. It only led to a much nastier breakup further down the road, after we'd really had a good opportunity to stretch out and shake up the spite.

Has a good beat, but you can't dance to it for shit.

The nice thing about only seeing them for dinner is that when somebody starts to say things you don't want them to say, to you or in general, you can pretend to choke on an olive pit (the clever reluctant guest will keep a nice handful of kalamatas at the ready for just such an occasion) or drop a spoon in your tea and stir really loud. Recommended: a mug with thick sides. More durable and resonant.
Nevarra: tossed aroundnevarra on September 21st, 2015 07:10 pm (UTC)
I like you.

And I would TOTALLY hang out with you.

And share letters with you.

And lay on the floor or sit on a couch and talk with you.

And drink tea with you.

And try new food with you.

And share my hidden secrets with you.

And hear your hidden secrets and keep them safe.

And love you for you.
selva oscura: [cats tarot] lovecatsanonymousblack on September 21st, 2015 11:57 pm (UTC)
Nevarranevarra on September 22nd, 2015 04:54 pm (UTC)
Oh man.....you have NO idea how awesome that sounds and how much I wish I could. Teleportation! Come one science....get ON that!