 ©1999-1999 ICFTP What're you, kidding? |
23 October 1999:
"One of these days, I'm going to cut you into little pieces!"
Well, at least that's what Roger Waters (presumably) says. Sounds like the DEVIL'S WORK to me!
Apparently, Satan is a chainsaw-wielding homicidal maniac with a pumpkin for a head, who was born on Halloween. Hmmm.
Well, Carrie, looks like that's what you get for trying to sacrifice a cat, ya stupid bitch. And what self-respecting altar has only four candles? Sheesh.
Coupla' things I wanna talk about tonight.
For one, why is the version of 'Money' on 'A Collection of Great Dance Songs' so different than the one on Dark Side? Anyone know? Not complaining, just wondering.
Two: It's been a few weeks of angst here lately. I don't know why. I thought that after this bone marrow transplant thing, I was gonna be Mr. Strong and Able To Deal With Anything You Can Throw At Me, Ya Rotten Bastards. That's how I felt at the time. I felt focused. Hell, believe it or not, I was happy. All the sickness shit was just the physical, the pain was transitory. At the emotional and spiritual level, I felt solid. I don't feel so solid anymore.
One thing that's REALLY been bugging me is how difficult it's been to write in this friggin journal. I started it with the intention of being honest, always. I really like that idea. I didn't (and DON'T, dammit) have anything to hide, and all I wanted to do was share my experiences and thoughts with anyone else who happened to want to read this crap. My dad went batshit when I started writing, and hell, I knew I was doing something right. If it was buggin' him so much, it must've had merit. :) But I've gotten away from that. So many people use this page as a way to 'check up' on me that I've been more and more conscious of WHO was reading it, and how they might feel. I certainly don't want to hurt anyone. But hell, this is my LIFE we're talking about here. How can I reconcile having things to write about, that I WANT to write about, but feeling like I SHOULDN'T write about them? Ick, that feels so wrong.
So look, folks. This page is going back to being me, straight forward and straight up, ok? You don't have to read it. Mom and Dad, please don't bug me about things that you read here that you really don't like (like the fact that I haven't been taking my medicines regularly, like I really should. Well, I HAVE been eating my cyclosporin, but I've been kinda slackin on the other stuff. And yes, I KNOW I should be eating them, thank you kindly, but godDAMN it feels good to write about it!)
So this angst thing. What the fuck? If I look at my life right now in a completely objective sense, it looks great! So why am I fucking miserable? Not at the moment, thank God, but I sure have been. Basically, ever since I got back from seeing Beth. Nothing's wrong, and the only thing I should be doing is taking things one day at a time. It's gonna take me a little time to get my life back in order, and I KNOW this, but I am so impatient for it to happen. It fucking wears me out to work full time, eight hours a day. I don't have the energy to come home and work out on the weight bench I bought. I haven't had the energy to work on this page, and when I did manage to sit down, I couldn't find anything to write about. When saturday rolls around, I sleep until early afternoon. At night, all I want to do is come home, maybe eat something, smoke a few bowls and sleep. Is this because I'm still fucked up from the BMT? Probably. Shit, I'm not even supposed to feel 'normal' for a YEAR OR TWO after the procedure. But here I am, friends and neighbors, trying to jump back into my admittedly hectic life and go full bore. Shit, what else you want me to do? This is how I want to live.
So here I am, white boy in the south, feelin' good at the moment. Damn, where did THIS come from? I'm not complaining! And this day started out fucked up, too. Ever since I've gotten back from seeing Beth in Atlanta, I've been screwed in the head. Well, hell, that's what falling in love is supposed to do, right? And I am in love with her. I don't particularly LIKE that I'm in love with her, cause after all I'm me, and I have no earthly fucking idea where it's going, but what's wrong with that? We've been crazy about each other for months. We got together, in person, for the weekend a while back, and it was great! So of course Trey comes home and freaks out over it and pushes at her a little bit and basically acts like his dipshit self when confronted with love. Stupid. So let's see if I can just take it easy and dig things for a little while, ok? If I really am in love with her, and she really is in love with me, y'all think we might get together again sometime? Yeah, me too. Hell, even if we don't, I love the girl, not because she likes me, but because she's Beth, and that's not gonna change.
So back to the question of why I feel better right now than I did this morning. Part of it's that I'm actually WRITING here. (Trey makes big production of wiping his forehead in relief!) Wow, I still can! I was starting to wonder. Today started all angst-ridden, like yesterday, and the day before, etc etc ad nauseum. Late this afternoon, I called up a lady-friend, thinkin' that some afternoon lovin' would be awful nice. She was agreeable, and I headed over. Now, lovin' and sex and love and cuddlin' has been on my mind for weeks. I haven't had an orgasm, with someone or self-induced, for a week or more. So... Trey shoots like a kid before he can even get started. Ok, this is NOT the way to make yourself feel better when you're down in the dumps about your love-life. So let's have a big round of applause for feminine understanding and compassion here, ok folks? Instead of an afternoon of hot sex, I got a long slow afternoon-darkening-into-evening of gentle cuddling and talk.
Which do you think I needed more?
:)
Well, Christy can tell ya that I think better, and am far more creative, immediately after sex (however short lived it may be). Add a nice tall iced coffee to the mix, and you get me right now, my body shaking steadily for the last half hour, and smiling because it feels SO FUCKING GOOD to write like this.
So let's see if I can hang onto this mindset. It feels right, feels like ME, if you can dig it. This journal has become a sort of rudder for me, I think. As long as I'm being true to it, I'm being true to myself. I think I'm better off when I lay myself open here. That way I have to be honest with myself, I can't hold onto the crap in my head and just dwell on it in my own little personal universe of misery. Who wants to, anyway?
"Daddy's flown across the ocean... leaving just a memory.
A snapshot in the family album
Daddy, what else did ya leave for me?
Daddy what'dya leave behind for me?
All in all it was just a brick in the wall.
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall."
Damn I love this song. :)