everything else is sandcastles

Winter is bearing on every space in this house, still - I am finding myself much more tolerant of the cold than I expected; still willing to stay up to the early hours if interest calls me for it, regardless of numb fingertips. I am at least partially equipped - and have spent hundreds on thermals and socks & other little tools we've invented to make the environment less smug about our hairlessness.

These last few weeks have full with development - I have been able to spend some time considering what it is I want of out of this life. Sometimes, if not always - there are only leads & clues; but with intuition & the most truthful outlook that can be summoned; the real ones take shape.

I am finding myself following dreams. One, in particular is four years old, I've thought of it nearly every day since. Related to this are a cluster of others. I am persuing them now, rather than before because I feel that it's entirely a choice; it's not immediately related to how much someone will pay me - or whether I will use it professionally. Finally there's a space in which I feel I can develop as I please - with no institution as my heavyweight safeguard.

The things I write here are often complaints, not the happy things in my world. These complaints are all momentary & generally completely solved within a half hour - and so; they're hardly worth writing about? Perhaps it is putting them to screen that helps them to be solved & dealt with so quickly. In any case. It's not all like that. After that last entry, I was laughing with my flatmate only ten minutes after writing it.

I woke up this morning; and after the customary - 'what 's the bloody day & what's the time?' - normally consuming many seconds of puzzlement - the thought dropped in my head of 'my world is going to change, and I am going to change it & it happens today.'

Some part of my dream world just gave me license to step forth in privacy & space & let go; follow my passions - and it feels so wonderful. I feel so free, happy & consumed with interest that my underlay is synchronised with me.

hiding out

life is the master of veiled despondence, she gravitates to the perfect image - feeling extreme beauty and anger all at once. I wait for her in the form of a man with some sense of emotional interlude. I suspect that this is waiting for the impossible. in denial. I wait for the one who can show me that there's some reason in all of that pretense. no one I am interested in is ever allowed. at least I've found somewhere I might be able to hide out for a while.

doctordoolittlegeek

holy
Originally uploaded by boxen.

I am feeling rather shitty today - don't think I slept enough last night. the weekend - while immensely productive, was solitary & lacking sunshine. my only point of social contact all weekend was doctordoolittle - who's informed me yesterday that he's flying up shortly & would like to catch up. went through the whole very-boring routine of nosexishappening - and I'mnotinterested - and it was all very okay until he mentioned someone he slept with recently who I knew a long time ago & totally did not like, and evidentally he liked just_enough to be able to screw - which made me wonder if he's just plain desperate.

While I have no interest with being involved with him on a physical level - as far as I'm concerned he's a slut; and they're no good to have around. he comes across as meek and mildmannered, and they're the most dangerous of all. I made it all very clear, as always. I really don't know why I maintain any hope in mankind. they're all so disappointing.

Now what may happen is one of two things. He comes here - we're bored with each other; which really could happen very easily. Or - it's very easy to not care as I trust in what he has said; and become totally carefree. Apparently the best way of getting a guy to be interested is to treat him like a friend (said with bitter irony). Then he will do all but propose & will serve me with a friendship ultimatum.

I so rang my ex-friend up and sobbed over the phone. I have neverever done that before. I just had a crap week full of morbidity and mortality. seem to have gotten a grip now - sometimes it's easy to realise that you haven't done what you wanted to do here.

I wish I wanted a family.

compartmentalized

actress chick is tearing the place apart in a very unfriendly way. funny - since I told her last night that I was gonna do this today, amongst so many other things. you'd think that since it's mostly my stuff - she's let me take care of it. I was in two minds about the style of the kitchen - sometimes it's good to be at home & have some things about - makes it homely. she's going fully minimalist. which is cool too; I dig that - but for fucks sake - all she had to do was say she didn't like it & it would have been changed. I didn't even know she wasn't into it.

I'm hiding out in my room now - which gives me the shits - because I had so much planned today. I do have constructive things to do here - it's just not what I planned. I'm not just talking a little - it makes my blood boil and brings tears to my eyes. leaving the room is really the best I've got. if there's one thing I can't tolerate - it's someone moving my shit around. especially when they pick things up & say "what the fuck is this?" it's mine, you know it is. you don't want it there - fine; but don't be so rude.

I am good at being compartmentalized and impersonal. so honey - you want it - you got it. coming down tonight - everything that's mine. no pictures. no nothing. I have my space, you don't come into it. fuck you. you won't know what hit you. just when we had this whole shared decorationscene going on. I no longer trust her around anything that belongs to me. not totally awful. some sort of separation of powers just happened for sure. I'm not the chatty girlfriend. I don't care. my life, your life. I'm sure it will be a whole lot more productive that way.

perhaps this has always been just part of the path in establishing territorial space.

thank god I'm getting together a new room out the back which is mine solely for the purpose of restructuring such emotions into something powerful.

I'm feeling really fucking pissed off.

wired like that

I discovered last night that I need a muscular form to be into sex. It's not like I didn't try, and I pulled it off - it just did little to nothing for me. Just as women are expected to keep petite, men are expected to keep well-muscled. It's such a transitory thing - muscles; they can waste away in weeks - just as women can get fat in the same time. I wish I didn't have this need; as I've got far from a perfect body. I suppose there's no hiding skinny bones under the fingertips, but fleshliness feels okay to push against - much better; be it fat or muscle.

It may be superficial, but it's even. I'm just not into skinny boys. They've gotta have pecs & biceps & triceps. Lats and traps not so important. Ass helps. I wish I could trade brain & bum; and bum does waste away - but I need bum. It's gotta be possible to have both.

It becomes increasingly evident every day that the boy and I have brains universes apart - and moreso the longer he spends away from the gym.