Things I May Not Believe In.

[greenstorm]

This has been a very long day. A little earlier, I thought to myself, "wow, all this keeping busy has paid off. I can think, 'look, I only have one thing to do this evening' instead of 'wow, I've got something to do this evening." I can only do that two days out of three. The third day, I default to many activities of the unscheduled nature-- things like eating, and shopping, and catching up.

Lately my world has been haunting me. It's been very present, very there, sweeps of prescience and deja vu and inevitability shimmering in the corner of my eye everywhere I look.

Tonight CrazyChris called me (many people called me, but still) and I got this song from him. This song is an accurate portrayal of stuff. It also makes me want very badly to dance. Dancing is something of a challenge, and I'm pretty good. Dancing to this? That would be a good challenge level. I'd need to work up to it, and it would be wonderful. I should really make arrangements to borrow someone's livingroom sometime for this.

http://s5.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=12JEOGH2Y58EX3VD4LBMEGGZQ9

Tomorrow evening is family dinner. I'm cooking. I'm making Juggler's vegan chili, which has ingredients that are heavy to haul around late at night. Tillie and Patti, you're both invited. Mom will be there, and hopefully my brothers. I'm going to see the poetry dude afterwards. He's my favourite spoken-word poetry dude anywhere. Devon should be there, and other people may come with me. You (yes, you) are welcome to join us. It's at the Anza club.

There's a lot of growing up in my recent history. It's so very strange. We climb and climb and climb and don't really notice, but every time a heel slips fractionally back down it sends the adrenaline racing. I'm learning, I think, to accet the slips-- not forgive them, but the thing deeper than that, to see them as somethign that doesn't need forgiveness. I've been living for awhile in the air up here. It's different. I keep saying these things, over and over-- I'm happy now, I have control over my life, I know where I'm going and what I want, the things I want will happen (as long as they are not Angus making me a pie, which is a lost cause), etc. And... it's getting boring to write. It's too true to bother with putting words to. I do grown-up things: I clean counters and do dishes. I go to work on time, and I go home on time, instead of sitting around having sex and talking philosophy until it's too late to do my preplanned activities. Sometimes I sleep on my own, and sometimes in a bed with other people, and I like each of those. People call me when they're sad sometimes, and I say the right things and everything's fine again. I take out the garbage and vacuum my floor. I make a dinner for my family, inviting them to my house, and pay for the ingredients. I introduce people to each other based on their tastes and interests.

I love this music. Now it's this, which also fits so completely.

http://s5.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=3EJ4YRMOG6WWL1H1RQY1RR3V7M

I am eccentric in personally pleasing ways. I wear makeup that I enjoy, I have hobbies that I enjoy and that are extremely diverse in nature, I like living things, and I have quirky food preferences. I wear the pink princess dress for fun and pruners for work, I look at myself in the mirror when I'm in work uniform because I think it looks sexy, and I keep begonia bulbs on the floor in my room. I take home plants from work-- they are sometimes worth a significant fraction of my paycheck. I'm never home, and yet sometimes I spend all day sitting on the side of my bed on the computer directing the actions of a sadistic, brutalised teenage alien. There are pounds and pounds worth of tomatoes sitting in my greenhouse waiting for someone to pick them up off the ground; I give them away when I think of it.

When I listen to music, it makes me feel correct and proper. When I speak of myself, I am happy and right; the words I say about myself are the words I wish I could say about myself, and they are for real. My spine is made of steel, even when I whine. I can walk away from people I love, not run, not sneak, not hide; just walk, when they are not right for me right then.

I leave things to the last moment, but more often than not, I produce the goods.

I love things. And, finally, there's an I to do the loving.

Love you guys.

Comments

[khamura.livejournal.com]

I do grown-up things: I clean counters and do dishes. I go to work on time, and I go home on time, instead of sitting around having sex and talking philosophy until it's too late to do my preplanned activities. Sometimes I sleep on my own, and sometimes in a bed with other people, and I like each of those. People call me when they're sad sometimes, and I say the right things and everything's fine again. I take out the garbage and vacuum my floor. I make a dinner for my family, inviting them to my house, and pay for the ingredients. I introduce people to each other based on their tastes and interests.

And that, right there -- isn't that a good life? :D Not a good life as opposed to a bad-evil life. But a goodness-filled life? If that makes any sense to you. It's so hard to appreciate the goodness in the small things sometimes, I find. They're so quickly labelled 'rut' or 'routine'. So what? I have had some of the best talks, worst fights, and most amusing conversations while doing dishes with chili_power. As much as I dislike having to do dishes, and as much as the actual act makes ma back ache because the counter and sink are too low for me and I have to bend down over them, I wouldn't want to miss those evenings.

[greenstorm.livejournal.com]

I agree. That something can be repeated-- that's the biggest magic there is. So much is gone forever, when it is gone.

[khamura.livejournal.com]

I hear you.

But of course one can't deny that there's something to be said for sitting around having sex and talking philosophy all day long. Not necessarily in that order, or, in fact, implying that either can take place only once. :3

But the grown-up way of doing these things is doing them when it is their time to be done. Or so I've found.

[kurrs.livejournal.com]

instead of sitting around having sex and talking philosophy until it's too late to do my preplanned activities

Humm, methinks I was guilty of this one, although probably not as much as some...