only you understand me explodingdog

i swear. i love explodingdog.com the artwork is fun and interesting and i am routinely amused by it. my wallpaper is almost always some piece or other. it's good stuff.

but lately, it's been more than that. the work is always accompanied by quirky titles that sometimes have nothing to do with the imagery, but have an eerie way of echoing what's going on in my life. especially lately.

a few examples follow...

it is enough to know you are out there

i'm afraid i will lose my faith

i will follow you into the dark

i am going to miss you

i hope you miss me too

sleeping to dream about you

i dont think you meant to do that

everything i touch turns to stone

love songs make me cry

i just cant stop

you have learned nothing












i regret everything

my life in cartoons....

hmmm

twitter is over capacity. and so am i...

i feel so exactly just like this right now i find it almost hilarious. i have a host of little birdies trying valiantly to hoist me out of the sea of tears i might drown in else.

thank you birdies. you know who you are.

You're my best friend!

i've been wondering lately if the notion of a "best friend" endures into adulthood. if you'd asked me this question a year ago, i would have answered with a resounding,
"uh-huh!"
however, the person who filled that role in my life since i was about 17 and i haven't even spoken in almost a year, and so now i am no longer sure.

the common wisdom tells us it becomes more difficult to make substantial social connections as we age. that intimacy becomes harder to establish, new friendships less likely to endure.

the way we forge connections changes radically as life goes on. our life circumstances, personalities, ethics, preferences, and degree of emotional competency take on distinct texture and permanence as we age. proximity is, then, no longer the defining characteristic of friendship. the accessibility of a playmate, once the cardinal trait of friendship, becomes largely irrelevant. our sensibilities evolve with our interests and we learn to make alliances based on hobbies, political leanings, fondness for drink, and countless other considerations.

and though these might seem to be a more sound and enduring basis upon which to form a lasting social connection, there are constraints presented by our maturity which can hamper the evolution of the emotional connection of the intensity and scope inherent to the "best friend" role. no longer can we hope to be as unaffected or vulnerable as when we were children. our actions are moderated and mitigated by our experience and politesse. the fear of revealing too much, or pressing upon the tolerance of another. we no longer possess the glorious insensitivity to the effect of our unbridled self upon others.

to my mind at least, it is in many ways the drama of our adolescence that makes the profound and enduring emotional and cognitive impressions upon us that allow us to feel as though we really, really know someone, deep down at their core. it is unusual to encounter a relationship, not romantic in nature, that can (or should) generate this same type of intensity once we are out of those tumultuous formative years. and perhaps if we don't emerge from this time with a person who has run this gauntlet beside us, they cannot really know us; cannot appreciate our evolution and our constancy.

not to forget the logistical and practical constraints of adulthood. we don't have time on our hands to devote to just being around to discover or communicate every damn thing.

and all of this being said, i have to admit, the conclusion i come to is that while it may be possible to have a best friend as an adult, it might not be possible to acquire one if you wrecked or lost the one you already had. and this makes me sad and lonesome and wistful. because that's what seems to have happened. and there doesn't seem to be anything i can do about it.

Please: No Mo' Emo Ro Co

k? it's been a bit of an ass kicker lately. and i mean, i'm used to sad. sad is manageable. sad is familiar. it's the whipsaw back and forth from giddy excitement and joy to anxiety and dismay i'm having the most trouble adapting to.

as much as i have courted chaos in the past, i think i need him to mount his storm-grey steed and ride out of my life for at least 6 months. even if what he leaves in his wake isn't necessarily the most ideal scenario as i'd envision it, to be able to rely on a little emotional consistency would be a great relief to me about now.

or, barring that, knowing full well it is more than i have any reason to expect, the whole serenity thing would be okay. that which i cannot change and so forth. i have actually begun to actively court the notion that i need new ways to self-soothe, since most of mine require the intervention of someone else. and breathing and mindfulness can only go so far. soporifics and comrades can only do so much. wrapping up in my blankie and reading my favorite book for the 14, 236th time has a limited power to soothe me.and this tends to make me feel vaguely lost and small. it's nice to lean on people who love me when i can, but sometimes, i just can't. sometimes i am profoundly alone and there is nothing to remedy the situation. as such, i need means to comfort myself in those moments. i wonder, sometimes what other people do, to ease their fears and sorrow. and i know the timbre of pain is as singular as each person, but i have this vain hope that someone might have a suggestion i can make my own.

i am a fan of the litany. i'm trying to create one for myself for these days.... and there is always my blankie.

things that go bang in the night

not that you perverts.

i've always been a lousy sleeper. i have to read or listen to a podcast in order to fall asleep in the first place, since i have a tendency to chase myself around in my head at night. i wake up at the drop of a hat. if there's any noise, or light, or persons, in the vicinity, i wake up.

someone suggested melatonin. i was skeptical, but since the suggestion came with a free sample supply, i decided to try it. pro: i did actually fall asleep quickly last night. con: i woke up about an hour later. i decided that i wanted to take a bath to warm up and hopefully drop off again quickly. well, that didn't quite work out as planned...

i live in a plex where there are many common walls. the plumbing is fundamentally interconnected. and i know full well that when i take a bath, my neighbors can hear it. i know this cause i can hear their showers. so when the banging started, i thought "finally all that screaming and moaning has driven them over the high side and they don't really want to listen to me bathe at 11pm. so i turned off my tap. but the banging, which was loud and persistent, went on well after i turned off the water. i could feel the vibration of the concussion vibrating the tub. and for some reason, this scared the shit out of me.

i got out of the tub, went to my front door, checked that it was locked. checked on hodie, (blissfully asleep; a freight train in the living room wouldn't wake her) and crawled cowering into my bed. somehow, i knew this banging was directed at me, and the source had a malevolent intent. i almost started crying. it paused briefly after about 10 minutes, but then resumed as loud and insistent as ever. finally i cranked up the air purifier to full blast to drown out the sound of the banging, pulled a pillow over my head, and prayed for sleep.

eventually i drifted off, but woke up several more times during the night, even though the noise had stopped. i was so wound up from being inexplicably afraid that i just never managed to relax in full. at about 5am i finally gave up and rose for the day, but with that malaise that seems to come with the clinging bad dream. you know what i mean: those dreams that linger and persist in bothering and distracting you long after you have woken and begun your day.

for some reason, i just could not shake off this feeling of unease and apprehension. it went on all morning. i finally had to resort to asking my co-worker to hug me before it would dissipate. and this bothers me. because i like to think i am a rational grownup person who can explain to herself that what was most likely a random plumbing problem does not represent a threat to me in any significant way.

and perhaps in the dark of the night, when senses fail to pierce the shadow cast over them, this can be excused, but in the full light of the afternoon, it just feels like a character flaw.

Its only fun to be a maniac if you are an exotic dancer/welder in an 80’s movie

Its only fun to be a maniac if you are an exotic dancer/welder in an 80’s movie
Current mood: anxious

which, as it turns out, i'm not.

yesterday was a doozy. despite many deep breaths and attempts to avoid jabbering relentlessly at everyone in my vicinty, i had a bit of a spaz day. at one point i was trembling so hard my co-worker wrapped her arms around me and then made me go outside to sit in the sunshine. it helped. but still. i only like to tweak when i set out to do it on purpose. this kinda caught me off guard.

and there is no sleep. ok, technically, there are about 2 1/2 hours of sleep. per night. for like 5 days. and i can't really eat. and the only thing i have an appetite for isn't as readily had as i'd prefer. and yes, my house is immaculate and my journal is up to date for the first time in forever, i'm feeling a little overclocked.