||[Nov. 1st, 2004|11:50 am]
|||||lugar de votar es 339 8th st.||]|
|||||crown me king- go to fucking hell, wendy darling.||]|
so i havn't said anything. but i've been having bad dreams in spades. i feel stupid about it; i don't know; my nightmare-space has been pretty temperate lately? there really isn't any explanation for my embarassment, though. jenny almost corralled me into talking about it, when on saturday, i, drunk, mentioned something about not keeping it together very well. look at all those commas. a feast of corpse-worms. that'd be the same saturday when everyone was like "lets go be fun!" i shot down, i was like, "no. my stomach hurts, i want to go home." & why didn't i just say that i'm all dissasociated? anyhow, instead i made some fucking noises about my relationship. why am i so ashamed of talking about my head lately? i have bad dreams. i feel like i'm not here. or like i am here, but like that is the worst thing. & okay- part of the mordicai religion is that being here is the worst thing. but i'm supposed to cope. i'm supposed to villian my way clear of self-pity. maybe that is it. admitting i'm still hurting is like admitting i'm bait. i'm wriggling on the hook, an impaled locust. & i mean, i won't have that. fuck that fuck that shit. i'm no kind of plaything. maybe, & here is me thinking about things, maybe i feel like to be broken is to be needy. & jenny has lately been in highly-independent mode. she hasn't had so much time for me. & so i have the part of me that wants attention, sure. so maybe thats why i feel like such an idiot for needing her? like, man, way to go mordicai. way to be a total drag.
anyhow, i've been thinking about writing a lot more. its been occupying me. so maybe something will happen.