Saturday, December 19, 2009

Someone to share this love with.

Sometimes I think I completely understand relationships and other times I know I have absolutely no idea.

I have no social skills but I love hugs. I like human contact. I like jokes with people and laughing too hard at things. I love when you're close enough to someone that tears don't make it awkward but can be shared and understood.

I am trying to navigate my way through the different sorts of humans you come into contact with in the different sorts of ways on the different sorts of days. Quiet people. Boisterous people. People who are talkative one day and silent the next. Or those who like you one day and don't the next.

Workmates. Friends. Family. Friends of friends.

I feel like I'm drowning sometimes when I'm too tired or inexperienced to know how to talk to people. Even when I'm treading water and getting along with people; I know that it's only a couple of words, the wrong tone, the way I look a little bit confused at something that was said...

How do you make it work? Find people to complete you and the person you're trying to be, round out your projection of self? I wish I knew how to feel secure around people but ultimately that sort of security is an illusion.

Improvement is the ultimate goal in anything in life so relationships have to be a part of that. Evolution of friendships is necessary, I suppose. We have to feel lost and unsure around each other in order for that progress to occur, in order to get closer or even to find new, better companions than those we can't seem to relate to no matter how hard we try.

I have to believe that feeling of insecurity has a purpose. Otherwise I'm just inept. I prefer to think this way, that love and friendship and understanding are achievable only through uncertainty and that through that uncertainty we can feel bonded with one another. Our angst and worry and little failures- with people and communication and relating to each other- all lead to a better future where we are happy and loved better for all of our fear and pain.

And if I'm wrong... well, I'd prefer that you didn't tell me.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

I am displaced.

When I was fourteen, I was older than I am now. I was someone who had done too much and hurt inside. I had learnt life lessons too quickly and I wasn't ready for that knowledge. Eventually, I buried it deep inside myself until I was ready to reclaim it and acknowledge who I am.

It was a strange year for me when I discovered things I was too young to properly comprehend. Love was the main thing but there were others. Life. Consciousness. Friendship. Acceptance. Innocence. Time.

I managed to distance myself from everyone who truly loved me. The people who could hold my hand forever and be comfortable in the warmth of us. Not the ones who were on fire and itching to keep moving and who burned me in their haste toward better things. But that's not fair. I was in a hurry, too.

I fell in love that year. I spent until now deciding whether that was true, and if it was, if I could deal with what that meant. I'm still not okay with the way I treated her or myself. We could only have existed as what we were, who we were, in that time. Our attempts since then to be around each other have always failed, probably because pain is the one emotion that never eases. It only gets submerged from time to time; still in tact, but sunk beneath the surface. When you're afraid of who you are, and what you've done, moving on feels impossible.

Which is why I retreated. I lost the friends I worked so hard to accrue. Or the friend, really. I became reliable, simple, pure. I ignored adolescence and focussed on being a unique blend of child and adult; at this I failed, miserably.

Having a breakdown at age fifteen is not great, but neither am I.

The entirety of "I" is a pretty big concept for a little girl. And I was very little, really. Being drawn to people who are bad for you, or who you're taught are bad for you, is the key to breaking your own heart. I did that so many times that my head gave way before my heart could. When my mind came to terms with how to deal with my self destructive behaviour, I was able to decide how to deal with the emotions that went with it.

My solution was to be boring. As boring as possible. Part of that was this; writing about these things like they're not real and I'm just a teenager prone to discussing their life online in a highly stylised way.

Some of my best friends, the ones who've known me since then, wouldn't believe the person that I was- or the things that I did- when I told them. Every now and then I feel my palms sweating a little and I know that it wasn't a dream and for a while that was the girl I was. But for the most part, I'm working to make that chunk of the past smaller, day by day. Because from a distance, even the whole world looks small; even my whole world at age fourteen. And I can see myself waving goodbye.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

With the venomous kiss you gave me.

Ash's LJ entry got me in the mood for HIM. Goth, adolescent angst music still appeals; so sue me.

There are so many things I could write about so I'ma pick whatever falls into my head as I go and everything else can get left out and just deal with it as best it can until it grows up and can afford the counselling sessions that'll help it finally recover emotionally. That was a longwinded joke and not a very funny one so I should probz just get right into the proper blogging, yes? Good, let's go.

My work had its annual Christmas party last night so that was bucket loads of fun. There was some truly awful, cheap alcohol being served all night along with the massive awkwardness of an "intimate" end-of-year party for a large company of people that is inevitably rather clique-y. However, even my rather aggressive and domineering negative side can't ignore the fact that I really enjoyed myself.

I finally achieved one of my- more recent- life goals and received a real hug from Allison. I really love that girl, from her accent to her stylish yet affordable boots. I also got to watch Annie down her weight in beer. I know she weighs about thirty grams but, still, she was going for it. And a whole lot of people who are normally rather reserved got royally sloshed and started chatting to me and everybody else about everything from travelling to high school bullying to wait staff with crushes on ... well, the object of their affection was much debated all evening.

So that was my Friday night. Saturday morning was far more subdued.

Julia and I went to market and purchased lots of things; among the more interesting of our conquests were a finger puppet, elephant-shaped keyring and a dress- gasp!- for none other than Hannah herself. Oh, and we had a friand with ingredients including, but not limited to; chilli, beetroot and belgian chocolate. It was a great morning and really needs no explanation other than; I love Julia, I love vegan food, I love quirky clothing, I love markets, I love Saturday mornings and I love hippies. This particular morning had all of these things in abundance and thus, I have had a really good first-half-of-weekend.

Oh, and before I forget (HA! Never going to happen, actually);

While at the market, Julia decided to go taste some hot sauces at one stall. This young boy was manning the place and his old man told him to warn "the lady" about how to pace herself with the sauces but the boy stayed silent for a minute or two with no explanation about any of the products. Julia tried one such item called "Dragon's Blood" with a heat rating of "10/10" - she ignored me when I suggested starting with the "2/10" range- and complained after having one or two drops that she needed more because it did nothing for her. So, a good dollop later, we discover that the boy behind the counter actually has a voice when he says "it takes two minutes to reach full hotness". Julia's eyes widen as quickly as a VCE student's waistline during exam period and for the next couple of minutes she gets steadily more teary eyed and starts coughing.

I am beginning to hope this guy is actually an adolescent descendant of a native American tribe where the men turn into werewolves so that he can reach full physical maturity, develop an awesome personality and confess a strong attachment to me and my weird emotional screwed-upedness; all so I can marry him today for being so thoroughly spot on with his timing. Then the kid just smiles, watches Julia take a swig from her drink bottle and says "Water makes it worse."

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

It's not faith if, if you use your eyes.

I thought after my last- very ugly- post (I read it back and wanted to cut off my own fingers to stop myself ever writing anything so vitriolic ever again. Ugh, it was bad. Apologies.), I might try writing about less... stupid? topics.

My life is nice and boring right now. Work and seeing friends. Every now and then I know I really am inhabiting my "old lady" moniker when I get really happy in my battiness.

I've started talking to the characters in the books that I'm reading when there's no one else in the settlement room with me. I giddily drink in the smell of pine leaves in buildings prematurely decorated for Christmas. And I lament my aching feet to anyone that will listen.

Oh, and just to be uber positive in this entry; here is an overdue quote for you (from last week).


"It's the awesome threesome!" - Amanda at work describing me, Annie and Allison. I do love those girls.