I don't fall asleep. I get into bed in a snug, quiet room, and worry about where my life is headed. My thoughts alternate between fantasies of grand self-actualization and vague, sheepish prayer to a god I can't hear or smell anymore.
I love people. They're so mysterious. I can spend whole afternoons just watching people walk by on a crowded street. I guess I'm a little different from most people watchers, though. What I really want is for one of these strange women to stop suddenly, look straight at me and say, "I, too, am very lonely and looking for a soul-mate who enjoys Dostoevsky and Sloan." She never comes -- even when I'm humming a catchy Sloan tune or reading a copy of Crime and Punishment.
Being alone is quite a talent for someone as self-conscious as me. I spend 99% figuring out how I'm going to get into the next deep, soul-searching conversation with someone. There's some insatiable hunger inside for a human truth.
Human truths are irritating. They're contradictory and paradoxical. The only way you know human truth is when it smacks you in the face. They're actually very banal. Part of the reason I've separated myself from so many of my former beliefs is because they lack that accesiblity. What good is a truth is any old schnook can't grasp hold of it when he wants to?
Apathy apathy apathy.
Too much to think and feel so my brain has let in the grey foggy clouds outside to hide behind.
My head aches. In a numb and fuzzy manner, it pounds at me.
The fairies at the bottom of our garden flew off. Instead, there is a pole wreathed in bouquets at the bottom of the street. Two people were killed there yesterday. I drove past the car, crumpled against the tree, draped in a white sheet to hide the interior gore. Two people are really, truly and forever dead, but the scene was straight from a teen-angst poem. It even happened on a grey and windy afternoon.
is it the weather, that's eating at everyone's moods?
Everyone I speak to lately seems to be depressed. Maybe it's the time of year. Winter approaches the Northern hemisphere, and the east coast of Australia is more wintry than it has in months. My brother called at 1am the other night, just to chat. An hour later, back in bed, my mind wouldn't let go of that odd note in his voice. I called back. He will be ok, but is relieved that I checked.
There is a hollow core of sadness in me, from this morning's argument. I didn't mean to hurt him, but somehow we caught each other's jagged edges and tore out gaping holes. Normally I would be angry. Normally I would be breathcatchingly afraid of what it means for our friendship. Numb. Empty . There is an achingly sad worriedness somewhere inside, but it's untouchable.
Somewhere inside, too, is that cluster of cells that have gone bad. That resist all my mental attempts to probe them, heal them, even envisage them. In the deepest part of me they crouch, hidden in an inky blackness that I can't penetrate. I can't see what is happening. I can't see what it will mean. I know the statistics. I know they're in my favour. But they're diminishing. Last week there was a 90% chance nothing would go wrong. Today it's 50. I don't get sick. I am scarily, robustly healthy. Whatever happens, it won't affect my health too badly. But it may (such a little word, may) make me barren. I know this word is not PC. I know "infertile" is the accepted term. But it's so clinical, so sterile, so unreal. If I can't have children, I will be barren.
I think that this concept will frighten me, when I remember how to feel.
back | days | forth
Urgh
Drinking a lot of lager and eating a lush curry last night has left me a real state this morning. To cap it all, I have to work as well. In so many ways I want to be at home in my warm bed, dreaming of nice things. Coming back to work after a week away is not so nice when your desk has been moved and all your work is in disarray...
More rain and wind here in the UK, with even more forecast to come. Trees with broken limbs line the roads and leaves clog the pavement trying to hitch a ride into work on my boots.
10:40 GMT
Whatever happened to being dizzy?
I chose my nick because I never seem to be able to cope, I am always spinning from one crisis to another, especially at work. However, today (even with a bad head) I have sorted out problems with ease, and I am planning ahead! I don't know what is going on, how I am suddenly proactive for perhaps the first time in my life...
Let me sleep and I will feed you when you're hungry forever live inside of me Through the holes in the pockets of my clothes High, as high as an angel I will stand there beside you Love is all we need
People are asking me how things went last weekend, I answer with a soppy grin and they laugh and smile. Even distant recruitment girly was nice to me. Amazing. You can blend into the background of a workplace, thinking that you're ignored, then people cluster around you once the rumours about you spread. I'm happy with this attention, something I would have run from up to last week...
15:05 GMT
Sorry, Mark
17:10 GMT
Mark appears to be OK, but I worry about him. I feel guilty and yet I am more relaxed now. Well, some Mother therapy will help this evening, dinner and chatting about Dana and my Mum's impending spinal fusion operation...
More to come when I get the chance...
Morning!
Well, umm, last night I got certified at Apprentice level in Advogato.
Small wondering that I've been wondering about, regarding that one and the other things: I've been coding for a small eternity, I've been playing games for small eternity, yet I feel like I'm not really good at either - or anything, for that matter. Why? Am I doomed to be a newbie for the rest of my life?
Dammit, I'm at level 7 and I still feel like Just Like Your Average Noder, no one important.
I'm not Great at anything. I wish I would be. I'm not whining, but I... I'd need to. I don't like the idea I do nothing well.
Did three digital media excercises. Well, two, actually, because the new learning environment (called "Profiler") is apparently lazy when handing out new passwords...
The first excercise: Did some funny diagrams. The second: a few hundred PHP lines. Guess which took more time... =)
Other day logs o' mine...
Noded today by y.t.: Gregorian Masters of Chant (Thanks for reminding me, break... =) Sinder Updated:
*swoon*
I actually think she may have reminded me that my life really does have meaning.
I have never heard a more honest, more real, more poetic, and more inspirational person in my entire life. I actually started taking notes on what she said (yes, I do realize how sad that is), just so that, sometime when I'm falling (as I tend to do), I can remember exactly how I felt in the middle of her speech tonight.
Dr. Angelou reminded me that there is a beauty, a power, and a strength in each one of us - that our potential is limited only by the constraints we put on ourselves.
She reminded me that I can still feel something.
And that's a lot.
She reminded me how much peace I've always found in books and poetry ... because "poetry is something to fall back on and, in the the literature, you can find your inspiration and your strength."
I even want to write again - more than just a paragraph or two per node at Everything, but really, really write again.
I needed something this semester to remind me how to feel.
I got it.
If I was (crossed out)
You made this quite a Labirinth for me I don't know which way to turn I don't know if I'll ever learn they way out of you.
If I was Persephone I would never leave your side I would leave the world to hide in the shadow of you.
You and I write quite a tale You were always the hero You and I will be toldthroughout time.
If I was Hylas the Knave Your water would be so warm I would never want to bathe (crossed out)
in our last episode... | p_i-logs | and then, all of a sudden...
Several nodes are in progress, being written offline but not yet ready to be posted. Research for these future nodes made it clear that some of my existing nodes required clarification and correction.
Most of the changes needed were relatively minor, but accuracy is one of my principal goals here. In fact, if anyone else finds errors in any of my writeups, /msgs to me will be greatly appreciated.
However, in recognition that the primary responsibility for the accuracy of my work here rests with me, the following nodes have been corrected, clarified, or expanded today:
Babi Baha'i Shi'ih
Particular thanks are owed to ymelup, whose efforts to explain the differences between Sunnis and Shiites spurred me to improve the explanation in the Shi'ih node.
I'm eating some delicious and nutritious junk food at Carrols, and spot a man in a military outfit who looks exactly like Radar O'Reilly from M*A*S*H. I get home and log on to E2, and what do I see on the Random Nodes nodelet? Radar O'Reilly. I read a node about hummers and switch on the TV. What's on? Yep, stuff about hummers. Damn, sometimes I feel this place is hard linked to my brain or something.
At the moment we're trying to put together the gigantic IRC party starting tomorrow. Basicially that means figuring a way to get all out-of-towners to Jope's house alive and then let the chaos ensue. It's always a blast when the channel gets together, so I'm really looking forward to the weekend. Even when it means I won't get to wallow in loneliness and feed the systematic downvoters. Maybe next week then.
22:28
Ok, this ad running all day has got to be a joke. Gregorian monks singing rock'n'roll hits? What's next? The pope reciting lovely pieces of urban poetry by Eminem? An all-rabbi-chorus doing Marilyn Manson A cappella? Perl Monks switching to ASP?
The world can be a delightfully screwed up place sometimes.
Welcome back, Booyaa! :) Great to see him and Everything Snapshot back from the dead. Now this is what I call a day log!
This is my first day log for ages; I've been off e2 for a while, and way-hey! I'm now celebrating my return the other day. But enough of that.
Why does my life seem to be made up of several sets of experiences, groups of friends activities etc. which don't intersect? There seems to be no common theme, link or bond. I do something, then disconnect and go do something else; talk to somebody about one thing, and later somebody else about another - I wouldn't consider swapping people, or topics, around.
Why do I need to compartmentalise my life? Why?
Well, today I've not done much really. Turned up at a tutorial, in which I sat and tried not to feel too hung over, although I was. That feeling where it seems that your limbs are still saturated in alcohol, and are too heavy. Later I attended a tutorial which didn't exist (I hope, else I missed it somehow).
Later...
I'm nervous and excited about my date tomorrow night. I haven't really been out on a real date in over a year, maybe two. I've had sex in that time, but no real dates. I feel young and silly, but it's a nice feeling.
Glider rides are really expensive. But I might be going to a rave in western Mass on Saturday, anyway. The catholic schoolgirl might be going with me, I don't know yet.
The house is being sold. It's a pretty sure thing at this point. The buyer has 3 days to back out. She'd better not, or I'll be pretty pissed off.
The house we're renting looks pretty nice, and more importantly, it's three minutes from where I work and about a half hour from my old college, where the girl lives. Much better than the hour's drive I used to have. I just can't deal with that kind of drive on a regular basis.
Everything Day Logs Yesterday | Tomorrow
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JeffMagnus node count: 4033 (-15 new since September 4, 2000) JeffMagnus experience: 9648 (48 more since September 4, 2000) JeffMagnus experience to node ratio: 2.392 XP per node JeffMagnus nodeshare: 0.546% JeffMagnus node of the day: Lithium
+--------------+ | | | ,.+ -----+ | ,.~^ \ | | ,.~^ * ----+ twist here to adjust angle |,.~^ _,/ \ \ / \ \ _,^ \ \ / | \_,^ | | | +--------------+ | | | | }=============={ +--------------+ --leaf filter drainage
Today their inconsiderate behavior was even worse. I was intending on meeting with my academic advisor at 9; this would mean me taking a shower and leaving the house by 8:30 or so. At 6:45, I woke up again, and went to shower. No luck -- someone's using it. Well, ok. I wait. I read a book. I check again. Still in use.
Julia and her boyfriend were still in the shower, together, at 8:15, a full hour and a half after I first checked.
I'm as much a fan of showering with a loved one as anyone, but 1 1/2 hours? In the morning? Do they not realize that other people might wish to use the house's only toilet?
When they did finally finish, of course, there was no hot water left, which is why I smell like thefez.
</rant>
Almost as interesting was watching my husband's reactions. During the fight scenes, he would sit up; his body would stiffen, and he'd start moving his arms and hands and making funny little sounds. I don't think he was even aware of it. I've mentioned this before to him, so this time I didn't bother to spoil his fun.
"Nice day for a sulk..."
The sky is gorgeous. I just wish I was in the mood to enjoy it. I wake up around two in the morning and resign all hopes of getting rid of my accursed insomnia. Pieces of yesterday's lunch with a friend (which, truthfully, seemed more like a break-up than a conversation) are still hanging about my head, and stay there after I spend the next two hours watching Singles and poking at my beer. I then decide to take some hydrocodone to help me fall back asleep. I read old Tick comics until a narcotic slumber finally takes hold.
I wake up around eleven o'clock still foggy and unwilling to admit the world exists. The first person I talk to is my mother, who calls to yell at me for not paying my dentist's bill -- not my fault, seeing as how one of the local banks has misplaced my savings account, which is where the money was coming from. I hang up on her, then dig up my old bank records so I can e-mail them to her. She calls me back up to apologize, and then starts yelling at me: for not being able to make my sister's sudden wedding, for not paying the bill despite my lack of money, for generally existing. I hang up on her again, suddenly infatuated with my new found low shit tolerance.
I drive into town and mail off some things, then have lunch at Packard's. One beer. Turkey club. Two beers. Stress doesn't melt away like I want it to. I catch myself in the mirror by my table and see a fold of skin around my neck that belonged to my dad. I see my mother's birdlike features. I see nothing of my sister who, out of all of my family, I'm closest to. During lunch I think think about what my sister has told me: she has a 30% chance of losing her baby. I think to myself while picking a piece of turkey off my plate that 70% is damn good odds and that it's a good thing she's having the kid in Reno with odds like that -- my money's on the kid. I think to myself while chewing on a stray chunk of tomato that I enjoy tomatoes very much: the soft texture and sweetness of the centre, the resistance of the skin. I start thinking about things that won't amplify my angst: golf on TV, Miles Davis playing in the bar, the hops of the beer. Most of all, I try not to care. It would be nice not to care.
Apathy? Fuck apathy. As I walk off the beers, I look at each and every person individually and say to myself: you are dead. Bald man, you are dead. Cute baby, you are dead. Pretty redhead, you are dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. For some reason this is extremely comforting.
At a record shop I pick up the new Poe and an old John Coltrane album (Blue Train, if you must know). I talk jazz with the clerk for a bit and then take off. I've stopped acknowledging everybody's state of non-living. It's not that they're worth it or anything. I guess a simple conversation about Charles Mingus has cheered me up so much that I can quit being such a prick for the moment.
Back home, I watch Sixteen Candles for the first time in my life and decide not to do anything for the rest of the day. Laundry is piling up, dishes are in the dishwasher, the apartment is a mess, the kitchen could stand to be mopped, the toilet definitely needs to be cleaned: screw it. My couch is the only person I have to hold onto right now, and it has my undivided attention, even if it means I accidentally beat Jet Grind Radio and have to watch Hee-Haw re-runs all night long.
The Cure. Joy Division. Bright Eyes. These are bands that I need to quit listening to on the off chance that something brighter will improve my outlook on life. Viva cynicism!
It's not that I'm depressed, per se. It's just that I haven't had a really good reason to appreciate life in a long long time.
I evaluate my life.
There was a time all I wanted was to be a journalist. There was a time all I wanted was to have fun. There was a time all I wanted was to get run down by a car. There was a time all I wanted was to make the rent. There was a time all I wanted was anything different. Now I have everything different. Now I don't want anything. Except perhaps to speak to The Boy in my Philosophy Class.
Is this progress? What did I give up to gain everything?
I sense the things lurking in the shadows. Coyly waiting to go wrong. Another see-saw: common sense and paranoia. How do I stop the things I could never stop before? What power do I have over this life I've never felt in control of?
Conforming to fit my own excuses. I am at fault. I am at every fault. I am at the
