The tide that left and never came back is on my mind tonight, cause it's a small town, and it misses you, my love.

I guess I miss my old friends more than I like to admit. Not all of them, mind you. I just dreamt that I found a way to connect to one of my old friends (who was a nicer person in my dream) and she covered a wall with obscure song lyrics, cause she's like that. That was one of our connections. We both loved lyrics. Well, I used the past tense but I'm sure she still does. But she picked her friend. I will not allow anyone to watch me be treated like dirt and then keep calling him/her my friend. It doesn't work that way.

I know what my biggest bone to pick with the society we live in is. We like killing ourselves slowly. We like denying what we really need, whether it be physical or emotional. There is too much that is fake. Fake is not beautiful. Yes, I realize that I'm typing this while in a room with not one but three bouquets of fake flowers, but that's not what I'm talking about. I mean the fakeness of pretending you love someone when really you are only out for yourself. I mean the fakeness of acting polite and friendly and then throwing daggers as soon as someone leaves the room. If I don't like someone, I do my best to avoid him or her. I don't like small talk. I don't find it necessary to make sure that everyone likes me. Honestly, there aren't a lot of people who really get on my nerves, but the few that do I refuse to pretend to care about. That's just lying. I hate lying. If you aren't going to be honest to my face, then get away from it. This isn't directed at anyone in particular; it's just a random rant that applies constantly. Maybe that's why I could never bring myself to love my stepfather. Maybe because deep down, and not-so-deep-down, I KNEW that he was a slimy asshole. That's it. I've cut myself off. No more two-faced jerks. I can forgive a lot of faults, but I've got to stop with that one. Acting is one thing, lying is another. If you are so insecure about yourself that you need to roll around in fake smiles and meaningless chit-chat in an attempt to get people to like you, then I'm sorry. I'm sorry if you don't have the confidence to let people dislike you. I'm sorry that you aren't able to really connect. I'm sorry if you can't respect anyone. Cause that's just sad.

In other news, I miss my boys. I miss them talking about cars all the time. I miss the easy energy that they have around them. I miss the one who moved to the mainland in particular. I want to search through the buy & sell with him, I want to go looking at cars with him. I need to remember to call him tonight.

My body is a cage/That keeps me from dancing with the one I love/But my mind holds the key

Today I accomplished small things. Small things like buying underwear and a lamp and fabric to make pillowcases. Small things like renting "Batman Begins" instead of "Batman Forever." Small things, like spending time with just my mum, buying her dinner. Small things like figuring out what model of car caught my eye as I drove by, so that I can research and find out if it's worth looking at more closely. I feel a lot better just having accomplished these small things.

It's the feeling behind the act that means something. This holds true for the simplest acts of kindness, the smallest signs of affection. If you love someone, it means something to kiss his/her cheek. Without emotion behind it, the most graphic acts mean nothing the second they are finished. It's all based on the importance your mind puts on it. It's all perception. It's all in your head. Several days ago I was reading an article on pajiba.com, which is a movie-review site that is often scathing and accurate. It was a collection of top monologues, accompanied by a youtube clip of each one. They were mainly movies that I hadn't seen, but I enjoy reading stuff to waste time sometimes, so I read most of the article and watched the clips. The one that had the most significance to me was the one from "Chasing Amy". I haven't seen this movie, but I'd probably enjoy it, and the clip made me more interested in it. Silent Bob gave a monologue about an ex of his, a woman whom he was in love with. He made the mistake of asking about her exes and found out that she had been in some menage a trois and other stuff that made him feel uncomfortable and inadequate. The thing was, he explains, he didn't realize at the time that she didn't want all that stuff. She was looking for someone like him. It didn't matter what she had done before, she wanted something more meaningful. But Bob couldn't look past his own self doubt and so he dumped her. And he regretted it ever since.

We change so much over the course of a lifetime. We do so much. We love so much. We feel so much. And that is the most important, in my humble and unorginal opinion. I know who I miss, I know who I don't love anymore. And I can always tell who I could love, given the chance. I just don't know how to get there. My instincts need to be sharper.

Peel me off this velcro seat and get me moving. I sure as hell can't do it by myself.

Honestly, I've never felt more like "Longview" (only substitute the masturbation for tv watching). It's awful. And also my fault. I realize it, and yet I still am unwilling or unable to muster up the motivation to go out and do SOMETHING. This is total crap. I'm ranting about something that is all my fault. It's my own laziness that has snuck up behind me and brought me down. It's a rut. And despite knowing all of this, knowing that it's my fault and everything else, I still won't do it. Can I make it another two months in this state? I doubt it. I'm in a ridiculous predicament of not needing a job to survive. If I did, I would have been right out there getting myself one, no question. But I think I'm letting the easy way take over. I'm coasting downhill with the clutch in. I'm bored as hell and I hate myself for ranting about my own stupidity, but there it is. There is nowhere I want to work, there is nowhere I have to work. Laziness and boredom together create a special kind of loser-creating miasma. I'm in it and so far I'm not bothering to get out. This is bad for me. This is self-pitying nonsense. This is stupid and lame and uncreative and weight-gain-encouraging and blah. I feel aimless, pointless and purpose-less. Without purpose is better English, I know. I just liked the flow. With all this stasis, I'm turning into a cat. I sit, I nap, I eat ocassionally. I don't purr, I don't wash myself with my tongue, I don't look cute. I waste time. I'm not learning anything. I'm not actively earning money. I'm not dressed because I want to be; I'm dressed because a man came to replace my mum's broken window today. What the fuck is going on here? Why have I let myself do this for so long, and why don't I care more about it? If I had a more addictive personality, I'd be turning to weed, alcohol, and probably sex. Instead, I've watched a total of 4 seasons worth of shows, about 4 movies, and lots of regular tv with a bit of Pokemon thrown in for good measure. And yesterday I went to the library, so I have 5 books to read. I know there isn't a magic button to press to get myself motivated, but right now I sure wish there were. It would beat having to get up on my own. I suck.

To me you are the light from a light bulb that breaks sometimes and the tender warmth inside is released into my life.

That was a rather good weekend. I could have done with more sun, but that is out of my control as usual. Had an old friend stay for a visit, which had a few hiccups (such as she found out her debit card was missing) but all in all was really fun. Sent my father a free e-card because I didn't bother mailing a real one. I feel no guilt. Watched a lot of Firefly and other shows. Watched "The Pursuit of Happyness". And I'll probably watch "Batman Begins" today. Seeing as I don't have a job. Arg, I'm a lazy bitch. It's getting to me, though. I guess I need to go out and apply somewhere.

I also developed a theory about my cat and farting. She seems to fart the most when there are other people in my space. My theory is that she expels extra stink because she's jealous. Hopefully this will wear off. Quickly.

I'm not lying, not asking for anything. I just want to be there when it happens again...

I was a bitch tonight. I know I was. I am reaching the end of my rope, the end of my patience. I'm having a really hard time with continually dealing with this whole situation. I feel like my independence is being squashed yet again. I wish I could start my separate life again. I loved being out in the "real world". The way things look right now, I'll get to move out by the time I go to finish my degree. FUUUUUCK. He's still doing it. He's still ruining my time with my mother. He's still being a controlling asshole. And she's still surprised! I feel unshockable at this point. I just don't want to hear it. I snapped a lot at my mother tonight. I can't handle this incessant invasion of talk about him, what mean thing he did this time, what the judge said. Tonight I'm sick of being a pillar. So much is still wrong. I'm tired of always being in fight mode. I'm tired of battling, even in my dreams. I can't figure out how not to be pushed aside.

Tell me that you're alright, and everything is alright.

I get all Fridays off next year!! I've never managed to schedule my courses so that I have a day off. This is very exciting. I'm taking the three theatre courses each semester, as well as Writing Short Form Scripts, Principles of Anatomy and Physiology, Literature and Film (hopefully it won't be boring), and North American Popular Culture after WWII. The Biology course is online, so that's a big stress reducer, as well as being a class that I hopefully won't be required to write essays for. I think I have one night class per semester on one day a week, which is do-able. This should be good.

In other news, had an amusing little dream. Well, the beginning wasn't very amusing because it was basically me yelling and screaming at Helge and then punching him in the balls. Writing it down makes it sound funnier than it was at the time... In the next part, I was packing a bunch of weed into a large ziplock baggie and putting it in my clothes drawer. I then started folding laundry and stuff, at which point Ray Barone (you know, from "Everybody Loves Raymond") came into my room (he was a cop) and told me that the cops smelled marijuana around the dining room table, and smoking it was ok but having it wasn't, and did I know why I could be arrested for possession? I said, "Because then I could sell it." And that was the right answer. So I ended up folding laundry and lying to Raymond that I had smoked the weed already (he had no idea how much I had, which was a LOT) and that I didn't have the roach because I threw it and the baggie away, and I didn't even have my pipe anymore. It seemed that he was a friend of the family and didn't want to bust me for possession, because he didn't even search my room at all. He would have found a huge bag of pot if he had even opened the one drawer, which is pretty funny. And Raymond isn't even the cop in the show, his brother is. I'm taking this to mean that I miss weed? Or that I need to never watch "Everybody Loves Raymond" ever again. That show is not funny, it's just annoying. And disturbingly like my ex-stepfamily.

As I'm talking my words slip to the floor and they crawl through your legs and slide under the back door, rendering me freakish and dazed.

I know there's no point in worrying about this, but I can't help it tonight. How do you know when to push something and when it's wrong? I know, I know. The only thing to do is go for it. But I hesitate. I guess I'm no good at pressuring people. I guess I need to start. I must be onto something: "Freakish" just started playing. It's hard being right all the time.

In other news, I get to register for classes on Monday! Holy shit, it's June. Holy shit, I still don't have a job. Holy shit, the divorce isn't done yet.

Wesley

I love clone high so frickin much. i'm bored of being joan though. pffffffft.

Jesus Christ, I'm alone again. So what did you do those three days you were dead? cause this problem's gonna last more than a weekend.

The thing is, we always know. We trick our deeper selves into thinking everything's ok, but we know. We know. If we only listened to our instincts, our thoughts! We know so much that we gloss over with complex social relationships. The truth is going to come out. Might as well be now.

I'm telling myself, I'm telling anyone who reads this: listen to yourself! You know what's right. Don't push it away. This goes for everything, from "Should I buy these pants even though I feel sorta chunky in them" to 'Should I marry this person even though something doesn't feel quite right?" Listen to what you need. And then act on it.

Or I'll just hug you to death. You're so wonderful, too good to be true

I seriously lucked out with this cat. She's beyond amazing. I gave her a bath today and she barely even struggled, then just crouched there and let me shampoo her. I didn't even get a scratch. She pretty much comes when she's called, too. And purrs ALL THE TIME. Which is my favourite thing ever.

I love animals because you always know where you stand with them. No grudges, no mind games. No flirting or mixed signals or confusion. If they don't like you, they stay away. If they really don't like what you're doing, they show it. I don't understand why people play mind games, and I feel bewildered and insecure and inexperienced lately. Well, not just feel. I AM all of those things. I don't like being vulnerable. I've been hurt and consistently let down by every important male in my life. Fuck, this would be so much easier if I were a lesbian. Then I could be a man-hater/distruster without feeling like I was missing out on a large piece of life. And I am, I know. But I don't know where I put the "lower guard" button. I should definitely find it soon. This is miserable. Not to mention frustrating.

Marlowe.

Marlowe is fabulous, friendly, and loving. And amazingly quick to adjust.

Beyond awesome = pigeon.