Empires and revolutions.

Hi we painted my living room toom toom tonight. Tomorrow, the bedroom. *flutters eyelashes*

We're alike. We'll have a lot to talk about because we're both on the losing end and we're both good friends. No matter what we try, there's nothing we can control, and it's sad, but we'd both do it all over again because we love love. I've got this silly dyke mantra running over and over in my mind for when I slip into feeling sad, about how I'm so great and it's someone else's loss because I'm sweet and hilarious and loyal and absolultely loving and the best girlfriend ever (given the CHANCE). Maybe it works though. When the grumbling black cloud creeps into my peripheral, I find myself running lines over and over in my brain until I'm no longer plagued (at least, for that moment). I won't share that, in this case, mostly, because it'll be coming out of that mouth, which I'm thankful for, which has saved me at some of my guarded moments. Oh, just give me a chance and I'll become it.

Somebody’s in-between girl.

Neko Case was so transcendental last night that I even forgot for a little while how you don’t love me no more.

Red-headed Stranger.

My day was littered with searing, painful moments of doubling over and holding back tears. Last night in the shower I wanted to put my fist through the tiles and didn’t care if I would end up hurt. I keep wondering when I’m going to become my own person, or when I’m going to realize that I am my own person. A person with interests, tastes and morals of compassion. What’s it going to take? Is this apartment going to do it for me? Do I have an overwhelming feeling of lonliness waiting for me in there? What is it?

Listen. I’m hurt and embarrassed and I wish I could stick my head in the sand or hibernate or go into a coma and let things blow over. I can’t help feeling like a fool. I don’t want to be a fool for love over and over and over. I don’t want to cheat myself. I don’t want to be a spinster.

So now I’m always desperately searching for something to escape into.

My father asked if I wanted to join him at a meeting in his hometown, Kings Mountain. Yes. I drove.. I dropped him off at city hall.. and I went to the cemetary where my grandparents are buried. I sat on the ground in front of my grandmother’s, whom I’d never met because she died when my dad was thirteen, grave and talked to them for a while. I don’t pray, but maybe felt like I needed to. I didn’t want to waste their time on my idiot men troubles so I told them that I wanted to be a good person and I wanted to build a happy life and work hard like they did. Lord fucking knows. I explained how difficult it is to live in these times of convenience and finding out terrible secret things you didn’t want to know over the internet. I know it’s the most naive thing, but I wished for a time where I could use candles and be more imaginative and pure. There was a butterfly.. a breeze.. ants.. maybe Carolyn and Baxter were there with me, maybe they weren’t. But I felt a little better and that’s why I sat there for an hour on a beautiful day.

I had it in my head that I would write about this day much more beautifully but I’ve failed because I’m mentally drained from wanting to cry all day long. I hope someday someone can be honest and loving towards me, and share in my excitement of digging though bug carcasses to find treasures to take home from my Paw Paw’s garage. I’m tired of people, not able to be good to one another. I want goodness. I want my lifelong headache to end.

I accidently wore Juliette’s headband home in my hair last night.

It's hard to keep reminding myself that I don't owe anything to anyone, and also that I am now, for lack of a less harsh word, single.  Weird.  Shouldn't be because, most of my life, I felt single whether I was with someone or not.  I'm sure it's because it wasn't that serious to me.  This was serious… ?  I felt like it was. 

Today I had one of those good movie moments.  You know, the one where you're in your bedroom wearing a bra and the sun is confettied all over you from the blinds being half open and you're looking for something to put on the stereo and you happen upon these two really sweet mix cds your old boyfriend made for you a week after he finally fell in love with you and you pick them up and stare at them, then you put one on and look at yourself in the mirror during the first song and imagine that the girl being sung about is you because that's why he put the song on there in the first place since he can't say it to your face very well.  A movie moment, one of those. 

 I get nervous but I cover it up with nonchalance.  "Fuck people."