Trompé Setsuled (setsuled) wrote,
Trompé Setsuled
setsuled

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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.
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