I haven't been too chatty lately. For the past week I felt I was losing my rockers. My Dad is having a quadruple by-pass, tomorrow they say it will be now. It was going to be Monday then he had some more heart attacks and they had him on a nitro drip. So then it was going to be today but now I hear it will be tomorrow. They told him he had 80% blockage. You don't get that by living sensibly. Is it cruel and insensitive to say he deserved it? I am his daughter. Who can be cruel and insensitive if not your daughter?

He has always been stupid about his health. He eats garbage and he loves to yell and spaz at us. It's definitely cruel to say that some part of me is saying "nah, nah, nah" all the time in the back of my mind. I once wrote about calling the men in your lives 'bastard!' and I know I was thinking of him as much as my ex-husband. I'm not sure who I was angrier at then. Now the ex is fading into the past. But, my Dad is always lurking around. Ready to snap at me, blame me, tell me what a loser I am. Anyway, nah nah nah! Bastard.

Yes, it's horribly rude, cruel and disgraceful of me. But, there you go. I never aspired to perfection. Being perfect would be boring and lonely and far too much work. So I will happily be imperfect and partially messed up.

I can live with it.

He might die. We don't know anything for sure. I don't wish for him to die. But I admit I do like the idea that he is going to get a little misery back for all he has inputted all these years. I wonder what will happen next time he tries a spaz attack. Usually his eyes bug out, his face turns red then purplish and his voice blows hot wind over your general environment. Pollution, the pollution of years of violence suspended. No, he seldom hit me or us. But the verbal abuse was more than enough pollution. I can't fully get over it. No matter how much I tell myself nothing he said matters, that he never got to know me so his opinions carry no weight. Still, it all sunk in too deep too long ago. I can't get over it or around it and I can't seem to get past it.

I don't know if you can make yourself believe in yourself just cause you say so, to yourself. It does seem there has to be someone else to back it up. Not even that. Cause anyone who tells you how good you are gets qualified. Your brain is geared up for qualification so well, it can do it on auto pilot. Tell me how well I write and I know I'm only faking it, or I'm not getting paid or I'm really not even putting my full effort into it. So, how well am I writing really. Qualifications make the grrl drag on. I don't get things done, I procrastinate cause I'm afraid to even start to try.

It's all so silly cause I know I can do it. I know I can write. I love to write. I love watching my words take shape on the keyboard. I love the sound of my own words as they fly out on the page. I love words and I love writing them, giving them order, purpose and style. My style!

So, what holds me back. I'm not always sure. Fear of failure, fear of having someone confirm that I really am just a phoney after all. For, once someone does that, there will be no hope at all. How can I overcome someone confirming what I've been afraid really is true all along.

What a lot of words on a page. Isn't that the whole point of a journal? A chance to let your brain stop holding back and just release the hounds! Let them see what they can catch today. So the hounds were out there. I don't think they caught much. But it will be interesting to see what kind of soup it will make when it all gets cooked up.

Happy day!

PS- Today I found out that I did get the days off to meet Eric in Ottawa! Great news. Now I can start being happy again and planning the trip. :)

Why does any one person need or have so many blogs and journals? I don't know, don't even ask me.

I'm cold tonight. It's like all my ghosts are standing behind me blowing, soft chilling breaths down the bacl of my neck. They are there, ghosts I mean. Not spooky, white sheets. All the ghosts. The people who came into my life, were reflected on my mirror and then sank back into the shadows. Never seen again, but thought of once in awhile.

Karen Pownell, where are you? Lately it's you I've been thinking of. Do you remember the nose picking song? Probably not. You had so many friends and I wasn't even one of them. If I had just been less worried about what everyone thought of me we would have been great friends. I still think of you but lately I've been thinking of you more often. Whatever did you do with the rest of your life? If anyone is about my age (39) and lived in The Rouge (Port Union in general) in the east end of Scarborough send me a note. It would be great to hear from other old people. :) Who knew you really could get so damn old! I was a year back, everyone in my class was one year older than me. They're all 40 now! I still have about 8 months to be in my 30's. Just barely, but still there.

I am ldr (long distance dating) with Eric. I don't like it. I like him I just don't like being with him virtually. It's not enough. I decided to try again it seems only fair that I get that chance. I think I'm going to crack up on this long distance part. It's no one's fault, not even mine. Dating again is hard. I've been dumped every time or found out something that just proved I have no dating sense what so ever. You think you're smart until you do something really stupid. So many things spinning through my brain like lightening on the water. In the end I just come to the same conclusion, keep trying. Give it a chance. Not every guy or every situation or every decision I make has to be a bad one. Just because my track record with these things is pretty ugly... I want it to work. Yes, there are pretty huge details to figure out. Kind of overwhelming when I dare to stop and think. He once said he doesn't want to get married again. I don't want to be the ever ender girlfriend though. Do I want to be some kid's evil step girlfriend? I don't want to be disliked just cause I exist. Then, do I really want to be married again, go through that again, take that chance again? Eric isn't messy or dirty. It won't be like that again, but it still scares me. I never want to be there again, trapped and no one even really believing me. They thought I should have just tried harder. But I was trying my hardest. Trying hard doesn't matter. Some days were so bad and everything was my fault cause I wasn't doing enough, trying enough, being enough. Never enough. Just not enough of me. So empty. So nothing.

I still remember the road kill. It was like a symbol for everything. Road kill, the fresh kind, splattered and bloody and chunky. Or, road kill, the kind that has become plastered to the road, dried up by rubber burning over top of it. Little flakes fly up as the cars drive over. Even the maggots have left it to harden and crust on the road.

I've never looked at road kill the same. I never will. If I had just listened on the way down to meet him the first time. When he was still just a man on paper. All the way driving down there, over 15 hours, road kill was amassed everywhere along the way. At the time I thought it was strange to see so much road kill. More than usual I thought. But, I made my own fate. I didn't listen to the signs though I acknowledged them at the time. Later, there was always road kill. Even talk of road kill, eating road kill deer. Road kill was everywhere, like a theme. When I left I was road kill myself.

But I lived. Crawled away. Peeling myself off the tar. I'm not road kill any more. I don't know what changed exactly, how I fixed myself. I thought I was unfixable for a long time. I'm not sure now if I gave up or not. It was a muddled time. Pure satire that I learned to drive then and became someone capable of making road kill myself. I did hit a chipmunk at some point. There is irony in life.

Anyway, that's far more blab than I intended to get into. Actually, I was only going to post this quote:

"In every corner of my soul there is an altar to a different god." - Fernando Pessoa

Comments

agingyoungrebel

found out something that just proved I have no dating sense what so ever. You think you're smart until you do something really stupid.

Heh! Welcome to the wonderful world of dating, where nobody ever really learns, where everybody can (and probably will) make the same mistakes over and over and over again, and where the only way out is to make a gamble or a guess. Some are lucky, some are not, and, just like in gambling, some cut their losses (too early sometimes), some keep on playing they win (some are wise enough to quit if they win, some are not), and some keep on playing no matter what (and risk losing everything)...

In the end I just come to the same conclusion, keep trying. Give it a chance.

That's the spirit!

I wish you only the best, I think you deserve it.

me

I hope you find someone special too. You seem to meet so many women but haven't quite found one to tickle all your fancies the right way at the right time. Something like that. :)

Once you're labelled overly dramatic and too sensitive can you ever trust yourself and your feelings again? Is anything you feel real or is it all part of some self created melo drama?

Comments

agingyoungrebel

I can only answer that I wouldn't trust anyone who has no sense of drama and/or is insensitive. For what it's worth, and from the little I know, I would trust you...

me

I trust too easily. So I'm not sure what that is worth. But, I trust you too. :)

Anonymous - Anti-Mellow-Drama

Dramatic, but not overly so, I shouldn't wonder. I certainly like your style as is. Don't change, for heaven's sake. You are uniquely you.

You commented on 'the PBGs Path' so I came to check out your blog. The link you left took me to your backwash site. But I couldn't leave a comment there without registering. A quick Google brought me to theshedragon. From there, I found your livejournal. How many blogs do you have?? I want to link to your site, but which one? I jealously guard my links, so I want your highest quality (and most frequently updated) site.

Tim R., 'Columnist' of http://pbgs.blogspot.com

This morning Eric left to go back to Vancouver. I spent the whole day feeling sad. I wrote to a friend online and she told me how silly I was being (probably). Then I finally stopped being quite so silly and I went offline to check the phone. There were 4 messages from Eric while he waited at the airport to take off. Now I know I was being too silly for words today. I feel so much better, even my headache is starting to go away. :) Eric is a wonderful man. Yes, I know it's too soon and Yes, I know I'm not really sure what I feel but I love him. I don't just like him. I can't help it.

Take my hand. Let's travel life together... but let's take time to savor where we go.

We'll measure distance, not in miles but kisses. We'll pack our smiles and leave our cares behind.

Instead of postcards, we'll collect embraces, and I'll memorize your face on moonlit nights...

We'll leave the road for meadows, beaches, cafes, and secret places only we will know.

Life's too short for us to ever finish a journey that explores our heart's desires, so let's go now...

We won't regret one minute of traveling life together hand in hand.

Alarie Tennille