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2005-08-03 - 10:06 p.m. holy shit dogs. holy. i just keep getting good orders. and the pr firm that wants to represent met my silly-liscious financial offer. i'm devilioushly afraid. afraid to take on the expense. and it might curb my ability to move for a while. but then again, it might help with sales to the point that i can move in a larger way when i can move. i wrote this earlier. i needs sweets and i need to work. :*)
A certified repub.
Yes me. me who is on several fbi�s most watched lists for uncontrollable activism and underground acts of political expression. Like keying hummvees. I�m just sayin. It was a magical kiss though. It just goes to show you that what happens between two people is more about chemistry than about the details.
Remember the kiss was instigated upon the notion of my shyness? Last night I texted him, �your not leaving the country until you help me with my shyness�� to which he replied, �r u going to b shy after I leave?�
double ouch. A realist. Realism really works my last illusive nerve. Can�t I just be left to my desfunction of constant fantasy and the pursuit of those who simply can not really be here with me. he falls perfectly into my dateable category of, �leaving the country within months.� Aaaa the ache I�m gaurenteed, oo the yearning, the pain. Luscious luscious wanting.
So I replied, �maybe i�ll be cured.� then he said, "i am shyer than you." then i said you weren't so shy last night. then he bantered about me removing my political sticker from mine auto. then i said okay tough guy, you come and remove it. :*) waiting for reply... Today someone called me psychotic. I beg to agree in fact. A couple of days ago this guy nearly hit me with his auto which startled me into a temper. So I turn engine red and tell him, �slow the **** down. I�ve lived in this neighborhood for 7 years and you don�t do that in my neighborhood, they are children that run around here.� To which he slams his breaks in a fit and says, �I don�t see any kids,� just as he hits a man on a bike. To which I can�t help but laugh and thank the random gods of coinscidence and karma. To which he says, �well if you wouldn�t have been mouthing off!� forgive me jezuz for instructing you with a vivacious fervere not to hit me with your freekin car. So today he rides by and belts the first word his ever so challenged synapses could fire, �psychotic.� At first I wanted to be offened and dump months of cat litter on his place of stay or tell the gym he trains at that he�s a lunatic prick and start a get him fired campaign. But then I did what my poppy has said on the rare occasion he didn�t flip the bird to an offending vehicle, the best revenge is sometimes a smile. If I act the fool, then fancy that, I am the fool. If I go batty on him he�ll either be frightened into remission or he�ll be armed with ample ammo from which to call me a whole myriad of adjectives, that is, if he could come up with that many different words. Yet if I simply toss a laugh and a, �hell yes, I am psychotic,� his way, then everyone is disarmed and we can all just move on. You can only play tennis if someone volley�s back, if I let the balls fall then the game is over. But it takes a really fucking good mood to let balls fall as opposed to wanting to cut them off with a blunt knife. It takes switching from five esspresso shots to a even kealed green tea.
It�s difficult. This energy thing. Because for two months I felt like a lump of clay. And yes I was calmer than I�d ever been in my life, and more sedate. I didn�t throw my temper around like confetti at the parade, but I couldn�t stand the loss of verve. Spunk. Speed. Just between you and me I�m terrified of �slow�. Terrified of exhaustion walking up a flight of stairs. Afraid that slow and quiet feels too close to depressed and fallen out of lvoe with life. so I crave all things fast. Triple scheduling myself, changing clothes while driving, sipping coffee and making calls. Caffiene, deadlines, infinite expectations. And now the �universe� has played this sick joke on me by removing from my body the very gland, although I prefer to call it an organ for effect, that produces the bodies supply of energy. Yes my energy center has been hyjacted. My friends have said that they took away my super hero powers, when I started napping and shocked that this was a normal human occurance that happens in daily in certain countries and regularly on weekends in others. So for two months I dipped to dangerously low levels of energy. This wasn�t mental, all of the sudden I�d want to sleep at ten, nap at six and forget the world by nine p.m. my life requires 60 hour work weeks, minimum. and my iimpulse for socializing soaks up the rest of any waking hours, pressing into those few moments I steal for some solid winks. Maybe I�m afraid of the silence. I�m certainly afraid of normalicy. Of dinner everynight at eight, of waking to the same human being every morning. Hwo the hell do people ddo that?? So I levitated five inches from the ground beneath my life. I spin, and when I crash and land, it can be fierce and ugly. And to be quite honest with you, just recently, after the two month slow down, after gaining seven pounds in a matter of weeks, after flirting with depression, I�ve secretly been taking more of the hormone pills than I�m allotted by doctors that claim to know best. don't bust my balls, it's working for me at the moment. i finally feel myself again.
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