Reading today:"Les memoires du queteux ecrivain" by A.S. Fortin
Tuesday, Oct. 21, 2003 - 6:42 p.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Whiny Idiot Savante/ Quizzes galore
tension in my back.
I know that it is stress. Working, getting up earlier, being more on top of things, would cure it. Not a massage or "relaxing". I know that.
I wonder if I am so dismissive of my career and what I have in life because I am not doing the thing I was meant to do. Or if I am just this way about whatever I do, judging myself harshly and comparing myself constantly to those who do more, better.
Would I be happier if I dumped it all and did something completely different? Jumped in with both feet... sold the house, bought something with a smaller apartment, but space that could be public: have a dropin center, a coffeeshop, a space for perfomances and art that I want to support. A place where I could teach, and support those I admire.
Maybe get a space with a room for a child. Allow myself to be judged by an agency as to whether I could adopt or foster a child. Allow myself the risks of changing my whole fucking life... change my schedule to accommodate others, give up my freedom which hangs around my neck like a wet feather pillow.
I have so many ideas. And feel so stymied by the way I have set my life up around another dream that did not happen. Too much space and not enough of the right kind of space. Too much responsibility, but not the kind that brings me fulfilment. Too much time off, but not time that fulfils me.
Feeling spoiled and overwhelmed with "good" things. At the same time, feeling self-pitying and starved, needy and empty and sad.
Must change something. Either my attitude or my life.
Exhausting and daunting. I need a direction.
I swear I am happier making a loaf of bread than a drawing. I am happier serving a coffee to a cold person than listening to accolades about my talent. I value other people's art more than my own.
I am lonely. Lonely AND alone. In a sea of people, I have a lifeboat that seats twenty to myself, and it doesnt make me happy.
I want a hug. From someone I love. I want someone to love.
I must work instead.
I feel like a whiny idiot. A whiny idiot savante.
Not Much Later:
Things I am beating myself up about:
Well I am running out of steam. I am sure there is more. I am writing this, cuz I am sure it will be totally hilarious in a while, such as a similar list I wrote in 1985 was. Well, I WILL work now. bye.
I really wish more people who read this stuff would at least leave a comment saying "hi", or "liked such and such a link". I feel like I am writing in a vacuum, and then when I go on other diary sites, I can see they get 3-15 comments a day. hah. There I go comparing myself again. aaagh. Today is not the best of days. I wish I were 10 years old and my grandmother was here baking bread and would call me to supper soon.hah.
11:58pmYes, once again it is LATER. Thank god I called my friend Bylis, it helped get me out of the super doldrums and into a bit of a better mood. It did take her intervening twice and saying "did you call me up to rant?", when actually I called her up to hear something, anything nice about myself (and that i rant at people nonconsensually is not helpful), and to listen to someone else's life so i would get out of my spiral of thought. Well, it did work. Now I feel motivated to write up some questions that I could use to interview infertile women for possible upcoming book I'd like to write. (This would be a good reason to get a laptop, non?)
Also I ended up doing this goofy quiz on the Relentles Divas website and boy oh boy, they think I am:
Ah, a genie in a box mustve told them. I must admit I prefer doing quizzes I cannot immediately guess the outcome of.
Ah, here is a better outcome, this time to the quiz "Are you Crazy?"
Now, for the flower, first I got a "rose" urk, so I changed a couple answers and got this:
You know maybe I should just do like most religions and give myself ONE day a week to DEFINITELY NOT WORK, and I can just goof around like I am now, taking quizes on the internet and not feel guilty about it. Here is my death test results:
Well, I did their Best Friends test, and I got:
Well, isn't that chastening, once I read down past the nice friend thing.... 52% of people are more trustworthy than me. Wow. Revelations and revelations. I guess cuz I didnt say I would give up my love, my pet and my life for my best friend (ie wouldnt go to war or swim in a shark tank to save them... heck no point in us both dying, eh!)
Please do my two new surveys, called "Sexaddict", "Dirty Laundry" and "Breakup", okay?
0 People have left cute, callous or caring comments on the wench's wordiness!!
ps, you'll need to email me for a username and password
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily