:: 2004 8 October :: 1.40 pm

&time or something
How long was I in love with Corwin? Can you even call it love? Is anything I do worthy of the moniker "love"? A year and a half getting over it, I don't know how long before, a week in between [hahahaHAHA. so. pathetic.]

I should stop giving out advice.

myxomatosis

:: 2004 8 October :: 1.32 pm

Yes, dear girl. It hurts. It hurts like a bitch. [I know you're not reading this. Maybe I'm writing it for me.] But you can't give up. [Hypocrite! You almost did.] You can't close yourself off, curl up into a little ball and hope that everything good will leave you alone. The temptation, it'll always be there. The hope, it'll always be there. The break in your heart which is now so vast, yes it'll close, yes it'll stop throbbing, yes it'll eventually dim until it no longer occupies so much of your perceptions. But that little crack will always be there. That yearning . . . despite logic, despite possibilities, despite even your own eventual feelings on the matter, will always be there.

I talk like I know anything. I'm a fucking infant. A larval mass.

But there is change within this chrysalis.

myxomatosis

:: 2004 7 October :: 2.36 pm

How many months?
And . . . jebuz. The parallels. Poor girl. I know, I knowIknowIknowIknow how badly it hurts . . . almost makes me wish I weren't coming at it from the other side.

Maybe.

Fucker says he wants to marry me . . . or rather, that such a thing is financially/spacially/realistically possible. When he gets his black belt. [Hold to that, in case it's all destroyed. Remember that emotion.]

He's changed me. So much.

So's Shillowe, but one plays off against the other. What Shi taught me to be [I love her all the same] must forever be beaten into submission by that which desires to hold on to him. Always.

And that stain, that mark of what I've done, who I was, who I could too easily be again . . . it'll always be there too. The pain that I caused him will always exist, I'm not sure if he realizes that. I'm not sure if it'll poison things.

I could easily spend what remains of my life with him. I could just as easily fuck it all up again. Or watch impotently as he finds and loves someone else.

I don't know. I'm . . . cautious. Perhaps overly so. I'd been prepared to accept being his friend and nothing more for however long we could stand to talk to each other. That bittersweetness of being love with your best [fuck, only] friend . . . I've been there. I could deal with it.

And I don't know if I want to get my hopes up again. In a week, in a month, by the summer, is he still going to care?

Although frankly it doesn't matter. He could kick me to the ground time and again, and as long as he still let me hang around, as long as I knew it wasn't somehow hurting him by doing so, I'd follow his ass around concievably forever. Just to see him smile.

Sappy little bastard.

myxomatosis

:: 2004 29 July :: 4.29 pm

Wow. Wherehave and whenhave, why? Running back to the old and the cold . . . so this is where all the rotten stuff went, all the mold along the walls all the delusions all the . . . neverland. Neverland neverland neverland. The red walls will never match up to the grey.

I've got to archive this shit. I read it and can barely remember writing it. Details washed away in weeks of being someone else.

Who is this Chesh? What does she mean to me? Does anything mean anything anymore? I can feel him squirming under the surface, but still. One day to crash and then I'm right as rain? Am I just waiting to explode, or . . . too many questions.

Tell you this. I don't believe in love. And if I did, it would scare the shit out of me.

Boy, you best stop with that shit. I'm trying to do for you what God did for me. Don't turn it into something special. I'm an enabler, maybe, just this once, but I will always walk alone. I will always walk with her.

You know who I mean.

2 in | myxomatosis

:: 2004 5 May :: 4.46 pm

RUN RUN RUN
you know, fuck it.
Oath pt. 1 DOESN"T WORK
never has never will i can't keep myself away from it.
Oath pt. 2, however . . . mmyes.

But on the other hand there's just, you know, the Source being the Source, it makes my brain all a-tingle. Thingthingthingwhatever. The worm gets all huffy because it wants neverland to be this cool too . . . but it's too vague, even effigy knows that. I can't tell a fucking story to save my life.
The worm screams. [behind its mask.]
the fool, it does not seek your advice. your advice is flaws unlimited.
i would call it a glitterchild but it would not know what that means! oh!the pity.

and effigy says: if you call it a fucking glitterchild.
what
do you call
YOURSELF.
[idiot.]

but i don't want to think that hard about it, ego is a killer of joy.

myxomatosis