One comes on too strong,
One hesitates too long,
One is being eaten up alive.Good morning, my pouty little princesses, how are you? For my birthday I got a set of black Doc Martens to replace the pair my father lost when I moved, two dozen roses, a promise of a new pair of tennis shoes, a set of sheets for my bed, and those little elastic doodads you use to hold the sheets in place when you have rough sex. My parents also took me out to dinner, which was a fast trip to hell.
It wasn’t that bad, really, but my mother was concentrating a little too much on idiotic things, like the fact that my dad dropped his spoon. No big deal, right? You would have thought he’d hauled his ass onto the table and taken a shit on her plate. She mentioned the dropped spoon every 2 minutes. I started making faces at her to see if she’d shut up, but that just made her go on about how one day she was going to have dinner with adults who didn’t drop their spoons and make faces. I countered with, “Well, one day I’m going to have dinner with people who have better things to discuss than the supposed failings of others, but they’re not likely to pay for my meal, so here I am.”
It was one of those knife-edge moments where I either ruined the entire evening or made my mother laugh. She laughed. My father breathed a sigh of relief. My mother’s a little high strung.
Well, my pouty little princesses, I am pleased to inform you that it looks as though my band will be booked for shows through the rest of the year. I will put up a schedule of dates and locations once I get concrete information. I’m going to warn you now that the more burly members of Promythium will be at our shows, and our drummer is a Marine with rippling muscles. I won’t hesitate to have them beat people up if they get stalker-ish, freakish, or come to our shows just to piss me off. You know who you are.
But, otherwise, you’re welcome to come see us.
Oh, that reminds me, my pouty little princesses: my ex’s site for his band has moved here. It has the same putrid color scheme as before, and he hasn’t finished moving the files over from Tripod.
My friend Jade cajoled me into doing a chakra meditation. It involved visualizing my chakra points along with ‘grounding’ myself by tapping the earth’s energy. I visualized everything, no problem. I felt nothing, nada, zip, zero. No energy, no nothing. Then I woke up the next morning. I’ve been in full fucking kill mode since then. I don’t think this is the energy I’m supposed to be experiencing.
I want everyone to hurt. I want everyone to die. Even you, my pouty little princesses, are slated for death. This morning I thought of the perfect way to piss a couple of people off that have been very supportive. I’m hanging on my the tips of my fingers. I don’t know how to calm down.
I think I’m going nuts again. I don’t know what set this off, but I think I’m going nuts again. I see these people and I thought they could understand but I think they’re as mindlessly self-absorbed as everyone else. They don’t know it. They’ll never see it. I can’t make them see it but that’s what I’m supposed to do.
They said that I can be the bridge or he can be the bridge, but if he can’t meet the ideas halfway; if he can’t understand or hesitates too long, they have no problem with driving me out of my mind to make me the bridge the entire way.
I’ll be back when I’ve figured out how to make this stop.
"There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away.
– Tool, "Schism'
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting
I've done the math enough to know the dangers of our second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication."
