tweet tweet damn birds

...drool...

I guess they really aren't wasting the time and the money promoting this movie. I mean really. people are going to go see it anyway.

Other than watching that several times which was fun and yummy, I am pleased to report the reemergence of Big Blue Funk, and I'm annoyed by Time. I mean, it is only a dimension, like height width and depth, we should be able to move back and forth at whatever velocity we choose, just like we do space. But no... *snarl* Some days I wanna be that girl in that cheesy 80s show that was half alien and could stop time by touching her forefingers together, and then if she wanted company she could just touch someone else and they could do the whole existence outside of time thing. *shakes head* I watched too many syndicated sitcoms as a kid. I also wanted to be Vicky the robot. Boggling that the actress who played her is one of those rabid Christian evangelist chickies now.

Oh, is anyone else amused by the BigChurch.com ads on hotmail? I dunno, Christian dating services amuse me. I kinda wonder if there are equivelent ones for other faiths, or countercultural groups. I mean, what would a personal ad for a Satanist dating service look like? "MWPM, 5'10" ns, d/d free, seeks PW for LTR, blood pentacle casting and incantations. Am well learned in the book of Demon calling, UB2..."

meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh.

The everpresent whys

"Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly far away, far away from here."
-- Jenny, Forrest Gump

You know it's all well and good when the little voices in your head tell you you're a horrible person. People can very easily say, oh, ignore the little voices, they're just giving you bullshit.

Of course when you do something incredibly hurtful and stupid, and the person you hurt (either purposefully or unintentionally) confirms what the little voice have been saying all along almost verbatim, it's a little harder to ignore.

I wish this didn't hurt. It does. I'm sorry, but I know saying that means next to nothing. All I can say is I know I fucked up, and will try to make amends, once I figure out how.

Ah well, my own self opinion can't get any lower. There are 23 + emails from my mother I've managed to ignore since last month. I think I'm going to go read them now.

Update: 23 emails of nothing but love and support and concern. Christ, I'm a bitch.

Fuck it all. I can't fucking deal. I'm going back to bed and then I'm going away for a while where no one has to be around me. Everything I touch crumbles, everyone I love even a little bit gets hurt. I'm done.

Update again: and everything I try to make it better just makes it worse. fuck.

And then there is this

I got this from Amanda, my sister/mother/complicated relationship whom I love dearly...

( something got through the wall finally, I guess. )

Fuck, I feel so lost right now. And what's really scary is that the forks are starting to look massively attractive.

The thing I want to do right now is go downtown to Lucky's with the character on my icon in hand and tell them to inscribe it on my skin. Not on my lower back as originally planned, but on my shoulder, where everyone, everyone who could possibly, potentially love me and give a shit about me can see it and take warning. This girl is evil. This girl will hurt you. She's hurt others, you will be no exception. And where I can see it, and I can take warning for myself to be mindful of my actions, to never unleash the power I carry, to set free the distruction and hurt that nonetheless seems to follow me wherever I go. And I will sit and relish the pain of the needle, knowing it is pain for a purpose, and will leave behind a graceful admonishment to never ever do this again. I probably won't go today, though I want to very badly.

You once told me of a tattoo you wanted, a heart with vines twined around it, vines sprouting leaves that carried the initials of everyone that's ever hurt you. Mine are a.r.b. I'm sorry.

I'm going away now.

The last poll question.

Sorry this took so long, retsuko...

my three favorite sounds are windchimes, any of my friends singing (even if they can't - I used to live for the completely tuneless renditions of Happy Birthday at eclecTechs), and any sort of regularly oscillating white noise sound, like ocean waves or the swish noise of passing cars

we now return you to my regularly scheduled angst.

deep breath

I think I'm better, or at least slightly more stable than I was oh, seven hours ago. Naps do wonders.

I've got a lot to think about, and maybe now I can do it in a somewhat less hysterionic fashion.

Maybe I'll get out of the house tonight, I haven't decided. we'll see. But first there's a load that still needs about half an hour's worth of dryer time.

In the meantime, just for shits and giggles, stupid questions about canada.