Archive for August, 2014


Wednesday, August 27th, 2014

You know that saying about being kind to people because you don’t know what battles they’re fighting?

It’s so beyond truth that it’s impossible to describe.

Even the person who claims to be the happiest alive has something internal going on, a demon — no matter how tiny — that must be caged.

I guess it’s how you deal with these things that matters most. You try not to become numb; you try to put one foot in front of the other. It’s easier for some than others.

But needing comfort and a tight, squeezy, full-bodied hug and not getting either doesn’t help.

Rock On, Baby. Rock On.

Sunday, August 24th, 2014

I don’t know just how it happened.
I let down my guard.
Swore I’d never fall in love again.
And I fell hard.

Avicii - Addicted to You (Well, FFS. What is wrong with my wordpress right now? I can’t insert a link. Fucking fuckers. )





This Post Is NSFW Or For People With Sensitive Sensibilities

Saturday, August 23rd, 2014

I wasn’t frustrated or angry earlier.

It came out of the blue. And now my insides are churning and I want to lash out at somebody. But I don’t have a target. No, wait, maybe I do. It’s the goddamn, fucking universe I’m really fucking pissed at.

Yeah, I’m having the good ol’ “why do good people suffer” combined with “why can’t the universe just CO-OPERATE and let people be happy” rant. Yes, I know. You’re going to give me that bullshit about people having to suffer and make sacrifices and be in situations where they’re not really happy because that’s just the way life is. And because we have to put on our big-girl panties sometimes and just SUCK IT UP, PRINCESS. Because we can’t always get what we want. (Thanks for that, Mick, ol’ boy.) Because our hearts and our heads just can’t fucking communicate sometimes. And yeah, it HURTS. It’s a metric shit-ton of hurt. Right now, I HATE being a mature, responsible, considerate grown up. It sucks fermented turquoise donkey balls.

Well, you know what? I’m choosing this particular moment to throw a temper tantrum. I want problems solved. I want easy, painless solutions. I want rainbows and unicorns and sparkly, fluffy, pink-and-purple fucking clouds from which iridescent, crystalline raindrops fall and coat everyone with happy fucking feel-good juice.


I’d kick something if I didn’t want to hurt my foot doing it. :P

And yes, I know. I get it. I’m not about to do anything stupid about anything, but I just needed to scream about it for a minute. Life will go on. The sun will come up tomorrow.

And I will shed a tear, and make yet another fruitless wish, and put a fucking smile on my face. Because that’s what has to be done.



Friday, August 22nd, 2014


Words, words, words.

A giant kerfuffle, humongous mish-mash, internal cosmic muddle. I think we sometimes need a release valve on our brains to let the words out. Reduce the pressure. Take away at least some of the confusing maelstrom whirling around in the otherwise seemingly vacuous space.

Words don’t make sense anyway. You can’t DO anything with words. You can’t fix anything. All you end up with is a frantic spate of verbal (or written, I suppose) diarrhea that doesn’t really mean what you want it to mean in the first place. Who really listens to words? Properly listens? And, hell, when what you want to hear isn’t even said to begin with. Faugh!

We need Vulcan mind-melds. Or that thing The Doctor does to read people’s minds. Yeah, that. There’s no way to hide from that. No way to have anything come out other than the blistering truth — whatever that may be.

I need a highway and a fast car and Maroon 5 blaring out of the speakers so loud you can feel the bass vibrate the seat beneath you.

Would that make the world better?

Hell, yes.

Are You My Conscience?

Tuesday, August 19th, 2014

I laugh at Dory’s line in Finding Nemo every time.

It’s a good thing we have these things, consciences, isn’t it? Usually — if they’re working properly — they help to keep us from making fools of ourselves by saying or doing things that we (probably) know we shouldn’t.

(Oh, I know — they usually encounter glitches between the ages of 13 and 19, but that has to be chalked up to *shudder* learning experiences and we just move on from there.)

I find that they create almost a physical sensation, particularly when one is trying desperately to *not* say something. Blurting out something you know you shouldn’t might feel good, almost like a release of tension, but the aftermath and consequences probably won’t be worth it to begin with.

No, scratch that. They *won’t* be worth it. Better to keep one’s mouth shut as tightly as possible and shove the feeling as far down as possible. Maybe so far that it won’t ever even escape. Hey, it might be a pipe dream, but just imagine if it could work…!

So this is me, shutting my mouth, sitting on my hands, and scrunching my eyes shut. Nope, nope, nope.

Not a word from me.

Pull The Trigger

Wednesday, August 6th, 2014

I have a question for you, ye mighty Nets of the Inter –

How do you avoid places and things and scents and tastes that are triggers for your memories?

Particularly when you are surrounded by them. Okay, maybe surrounded is too strong of a word, but when triggers rise up at you from around many a corner, how do you deal?

Other than the really simplified, impossible answer of “Move away.” (’Cause that ain’t gonna happen anytime soon.)

Locking oneself inside one’s house isn’t really an appropriate answer, either. Because, you know, reasons.

(Although, tangentally, it did occur to me that with the right set of circumstances, I could stay inside the house quite happily, like the introvert I am, until the solitude does wacky things to my brain. But I digress.)

Maybe I need a Sherlockian mind-map sort of thing, where I can file such easily-triggered memories away, to be retrieved at such time as I really want to experience them again. Sounds like an awfully appealing idea, if you ask me.

Just — For The Love Of Pete — Say No!

Tuesday, August 5th, 2014

I learned quite some time ago that I am a stress eater. (And to clarify, no, that does not mean I can eat stress. It means that my way of coping with stress is to shove calories down my gullet.)

Thankfully, the rest of the fam finished off the potato chips that were in the house. But there’s still ice cream and gummy bears waiting to be eaten. And I am trying my DAMNEDEST to stay away from the kitchen. Even though my tummy is rumbling and teasing me with thoughts of sugary dessert-type items.


I want to LOSE some weight, not GAIN more. *headdesk*

For now, I have won this battle. Because once I post this blog entry, I am going straight to bed. No detours through the kitchen. No more calories will be entering my body tonight.

Tomorrow, however, is another goddamned day. And while today’s battle is over, there’s still the war with which to contend.

Give me strength. :P

Darkness Falls Across The Land…

Saturday, August 2nd, 2014

Nighttime is the worst, isn’t it? Left to your own devices, with only your thoughts to keep you company. Almost enough to make me wish that days were longer and nights were shorter.

Waiting and watching and thinking…

Not really the way to maintain one’s sanity.

Seeking Fortune Teller; Apply Within

Friday, August 1st, 2014

I wish crystal balls were real. Having access to one that worked would be a definite asset when one is faced with a decision or a choice to make.

Wouldn’t it be great if, when you got to a difficult crossroads in your life, all you had to do was whip out your magical, future-predicting crystal globe and ask whether Choice A or Choice B was the better one, and have the recommended path foretold for you?

Yeah. I know, I know. It doesn’t work that way. Life’s all about consequences and learning to deal with disappointment, suffering and loss, and growing stronger because of it.

That doesn’t make figuring out you chose the wrong path a long time ago any less easier to accept and be resigned to.

Hm. I just had a thought. What if you got a set number of chances — say, three, because it’s a common number in magic and fairy tales — where you were allowed to see the future and ask for direction? Having a finite number of uses would make most people think carefully about when and where they wanted to use it, wouldn’t it? (That has story possibilities written all over it…)

Again, I know. There’s no use wishing for something that doesn’t exist. It can’t happen, so it’s better to make the best of a not-so-good lot. *shrug*

Still, I’m keeping my ears and eyes open. So if you come across anything I might be able to use, let me know…