September 24th, 2002

Salt Precaution

Xmas list

I really was quite surprised when, upon entering the darkened house at around 1am, I was greeted by the very loud and deep barks fired at me by the large Dalmatian dog standing at the bottom of the stairway.

In moments, the entire house was fully lit and my grandmother and aunt opened negotiations with Hershey (the dog) in an effort to convince him that I was a comrade. Diplomacy quickly won over the animal, in whose eyes I perceived a gentle and noble nature.

And intelligent as well--as I put my things down in my room, there was no slobberings or scamperings, or any further barking. Hershey stood at respectful distance. He collected a few scratches on the neck from me before returning to the upstairs.

So now my aunt's living here which, as I said, is a good thing. She is, in fact, probably my favourite relative. I'm not much in the mood for discussing that at the moment now as I find myself in the midst of a sudden, unexpected bout of melancholy.

I'm not wholly certain where it comes from. It's just there are suddenly tears and feelings of futility. Maybe it's just the Morrissey album I'm listening to.

When I was on the way back to the college from the mall with a tea Trisa had sent me to get for her, I was listening to Elvis Costello's Brutal Youth album, specifically the track This Is Hell and it suddenly came to me rather forcibly how much I had adored that track last year at this time. How I'd listened to it over and over without ever tiring of it--how vivid was the memory, then, of bringing gingerbread lattes to Trisa at school in much the same manner I was now bringing her tea . . . I mean, I really could swear for a moment that I could smell the gingerbread latte. Don't they say that smell is the closest sense to memory?

Sometimes I feel like breaking blocks of cement with my head.

High on my list on frightfully common, seemingly insolvable, and almost indescribable difficulties I've had with other human beings in my life are these two; narcissistic self-hatred and unconditional hatred of me.

Am I unusual for encountering these qualities in so very many people I've been intimately acquainted with in my life? Or is it simply that these are just qualities that occur in the sort of person I'm attracted to?

I wish everyone in the world was dead, and I wish I could breathe underwater. I wish the seas were inescapably grey. I wish everyone's skulls would crack open so their brains could crawl out, quivering and sensitive. I wish someone would kill God.
  • Current Music
    The Smiths - Girl Afraid
Salt Precaution

Unk

Waiting for my hair to dry . . .

I wonder what I shall have for breakfast. I know I don't want oatmeal again, particularly since there does not seem to be any toilet paper in the house (prolly more than you wanted to know).

My horoscope says I should get some unexpected money to-day, which would be a very good thing since my exertions of frugality yesterday managed to preserve only one dollar of my twenty-three.

Oy . . . I feel bloodless.
  • Current Music
    The Smiths - William, It Was Really Nothing
Salt Precaution

Sex to death

A conversation at Trisa's journal has led me to be a little absorbed to-day in thoughts about my attitudes regarding sexuality. And having thought for awhile after posting my last bit, I've come to the conclusion that in fact, I sincerely do not know what's wrong with me.

Trisa's tired of the conversation so it looks like it's going to be a conversation with myself now, which is why I've carried it over here.

This reflection on myself found its impetus when I realised that both Cryptess and Trisa were at a consensus that I am "repressed,"

I think my first mistake in the conversation was not seeing what Trisa meant by this. I took it as if I had called myself repressed. Which has significant differences than if I were to try to figure how Trisa meant it from her perspective.

Under the perception I took, I took this to refer to that which I am most often consciously aware of suppressing in myself, namely my powerful attraction to Trisa. Or, perhaps the bigger thing was my repression in myself I exercise to not feel too acutely that which I want but cannot have. The fact that girls that I am attracted to enough to want to have sex with them do not desire to have sex with me. I should have realised it would be absurd for Trisa to be angry at me for such suppression.

I think the reality of what Trisa, and I think Cryptess, were pointing to was simply my lack of enthusiasm for engaging on general topics of sexuality in conversation. And it occurs to me that there are times when I have felt I ought to hold back certain racier comments for fear of insulting them or appearing vulgar to them. But as they both evidently enjoy such things quite a lot, I shall henceforth not restrain my discourse.

Hm. I think that's about the size of it. I'm glad I at least cleared it up with myself. Or maybe I haven't. Maybe there's something wrong with me that I cannot see but other people can.

Maybe I smell like pineapples or something.

Oh well. I guess I'll just have to trust my friends to point these things out gently . . .
  • Current Music
    Mazzy Star - Mary of Silence