![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Faded memory
I was going through the files on my computer, cleaning out the old stuff when I ran across an old off-line journal entry. This was back in '03 when I was still at Ceed, the company a friend and I started. It's strange to read now, like it was written by another person:
My head, a hot ball on a pole of a neck, heavy and wobbly, wanting to be laid down to rest. I am a ball of worry. My company is falling apart. I’m broke and want to get drunk or walk for hours in the rain. I had to walk in the rain today and my boots leaked and my feet got cold and wet in the sloppy puddles and splashed up muck. I wanna be May Aberdeen, I am May Aberdeen* but no one knows my alter ego, my double my bitch double, but I’m becoming her more and more every day. My Saturday velvet whore. Look out, watch out she’s on the rampage. She just wants to do dope and get so high and wear that leopard coat of hers. My hair is getting longer. Donna said hi and my god your hair’s so long! Her hair was short. I like my long hair. Gonna have long long hair. Gotta get Kelly up here in Chi town so we can all go nuts. The first week of November looks good oh GOD I hope it’s good. My life has been sucked dry. I could be a dom, a top, but I could never be a slave, a bottom, a boot licker. I’m in the old room, the old Polish man’s room where he used to beat his wife, where she resolved to kill him one day. You know, she knifed him in the front hall and he fell all the way down the steps all the way to the front door at the bottom. So I called James last night and he was all weird and awkward on the phone and it made me feel dumb and like I shouldn’t have ever picked up the phone and called him at all, so today I sent him an email with my phone number and told him if he wanted to call me that was fine, so now I’m washing my hands clean of him because I didn’t even like him that much in the first place and I’m not gonna work like a stupid bitch to capture his retarded fancy. I’ve got bigger fish, bigger things on my mind to fry. Red and black striped shirts. I’ve got two of them, one long sleeved and one short. I walked for an hour and twenty minutes today. This weekend is Jeff’s birthday. I haven’t gotten him anything and I feel sort of bad, but I really just can’t afford anything so maybe I’ll get him a card? I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do about anything anymore. I’m just flailing around my life like a bird with a broken wing, spiraling down, crashing down through the sky. And the days keep streaming by, rushing at me. Wake. Breakfast. Walk. Work. Walk. Dinner. TV. Sleep. Nightmare. All my dreams are nightmares. James you’re a fucker a real mother fucker lead a girl on make her feel pretty make her feel special invite her to call you and then make her feel not special at all. So fine I don’t care don’t call me what do I care I don’t care at all. I could light a stick of incense if I wanted, light a candle. But I’m so tired I just don’t want to. Today we looked at my old apartment and it’s not dirty at all. I did a good job cleaning it, just like I said. Suka was like “I don’t know what Russ was talking about.” And I don’t know what he was talking about either because I mopped everywhere and cleaned the closets and the shelves and even under the sink. It’s 9:30pm now. This is my fairytale. This is my love story. This is my happily ever after. This is my waltz, my love song, my lullaby, my valentine. Right here, right now. A cold rainy night and a sick stomach and a hot achy head. When’s the fun going to start? When do things get better? I want to believe in astrology so bad but it never seems to work. There’s an eclipse in my sign in November right on my birthday. Maybe that’s when I’ll have a breakdown. Maybe that’s when I’ll give up. Give in. Give out. Blow up. Blow out.
*May Aberdeen was a character in a novella I was writing at the time.
My head, a hot ball on a pole of a neck, heavy and wobbly, wanting to be laid down to rest. I am a ball of worry. My company is falling apart. I’m broke and want to get drunk or walk for hours in the rain. I had to walk in the rain today and my boots leaked and my feet got cold and wet in the sloppy puddles and splashed up muck. I wanna be May Aberdeen, I am May Aberdeen* but no one knows my alter ego, my double my bitch double, but I’m becoming her more and more every day. My Saturday velvet whore. Look out, watch out she’s on the rampage. She just wants to do dope and get so high and wear that leopard coat of hers. My hair is getting longer. Donna said hi and my god your hair’s so long! Her hair was short. I like my long hair. Gonna have long long hair. Gotta get Kelly up here in Chi town so we can all go nuts. The first week of November looks good oh GOD I hope it’s good. My life has been sucked dry. I could be a dom, a top, but I could never be a slave, a bottom, a boot licker. I’m in the old room, the old Polish man’s room where he used to beat his wife, where she resolved to kill him one day. You know, she knifed him in the front hall and he fell all the way down the steps all the way to the front door at the bottom. So I called James last night and he was all weird and awkward on the phone and it made me feel dumb and like I shouldn’t have ever picked up the phone and called him at all, so today I sent him an email with my phone number and told him if he wanted to call me that was fine, so now I’m washing my hands clean of him because I didn’t even like him that much in the first place and I’m not gonna work like a stupid bitch to capture his retarded fancy. I’ve got bigger fish, bigger things on my mind to fry. Red and black striped shirts. I’ve got two of them, one long sleeved and one short. I walked for an hour and twenty minutes today. This weekend is Jeff’s birthday. I haven’t gotten him anything and I feel sort of bad, but I really just can’t afford anything so maybe I’ll get him a card? I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do about anything anymore. I’m just flailing around my life like a bird with a broken wing, spiraling down, crashing down through the sky. And the days keep streaming by, rushing at me. Wake. Breakfast. Walk. Work. Walk. Dinner. TV. Sleep. Nightmare. All my dreams are nightmares. James you’re a fucker a real mother fucker lead a girl on make her feel pretty make her feel special invite her to call you and then make her feel not special at all. So fine I don’t care don’t call me what do I care I don’t care at all. I could light a stick of incense if I wanted, light a candle. But I’m so tired I just don’t want to. Today we looked at my old apartment and it’s not dirty at all. I did a good job cleaning it, just like I said. Suka was like “I don’t know what Russ was talking about.” And I don’t know what he was talking about either because I mopped everywhere and cleaned the closets and the shelves and even under the sink. It’s 9:30pm now. This is my fairytale. This is my love story. This is my happily ever after. This is my waltz, my love song, my lullaby, my valentine. Right here, right now. A cold rainy night and a sick stomach and a hot achy head. When’s the fun going to start? When do things get better? I want to believe in astrology so bad but it never seems to work. There’s an eclipse in my sign in November right on my birthday. Maybe that’s when I’ll have a breakdown. Maybe that’s when I’ll give up. Give in. Give out. Blow up. Blow out.
*May Aberdeen was a character in a novella I was writing at the time.