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2003-03-08 : 1:18 p.m.
Anti-social dissention makes room for change...
Listening to: Anthrax...the very best of.
I've had a bit of the week of hell as it were... funny enough... entirely in my head... And it began equally as strong as the influx of feelings and sensations came over... upon my sight of Fletcher. But it's a lot more... see today...wouldn�t have been the best of week's anyway...for one particular reason I'll tell you about later... but everything, everything else... just became too much... For one, I had a silly question posed by Fletcher while he was here... Could I put on a Cd, the first of all influential and favorite songs... songs from the earliest of memories, on one CD? (See, this is in regards to the fact, that I have a serious knack.. of putting everything (memories, events) into some sort of 'top ten', or something or other... I mean everything... and I told him... 'No... don't think I could...' See, for me... it really is near impossible... if only because I attach important memories or events- to music... and as such, gives the song "important points"... and they move up or down the top ten accordingly...(and there are ca-zillions of different top tens by the way...) in any case... I said no, (because I had actually tried in the past...and it's not the sheer number of the songs and such... it's more the memories they evoke, that screw with me sometimes...) "Yeah tons of stuff..." I'd say, watching him, as he lay on my bed. And then I jump up... and where it comes from I don't know... But I start spewing every random, disturbing memory I have... I was so nervous...(this I never told him...) Because I've never told anyone, everything and all about these images from my childhood... to anyone (in one sitting)... I have the closest of friends that are still figuring things out... some whom I've known for a solid decade and more. Who find things out... invariably, and become angered and confused that I would hold such information back... But from the moment I first saw him... I chatted like a nervous whore on crack... proclaiming to the cops as she get's herself arrested... "I swear I wadn't riddin' him- occi-fer... I'd swear... I'd just couldn't get out the car...cuz dat bastard nasty, and my door wadn't working... so I had to get on him...cuz he wouldn't move occi-fer." But yes... I rattled and told him about apparent drug use at the age of 6, witness to beatings, and some other stuff... The kind of stuff that I've NEVER written about... But I rattled on... and found myself doing what Danny A. use to get so annoyed over... laughing, dancing, jumping around... deflating the severity of the issue at hand. It's a nervous reflex... I think... no that I'm not off the wall as it were all ready... but it explodes in such scenarios.... if only because I don't know what the person in question is thinking... and two... I feel like it's stuff that has diseased me... and I lost Danny (a.) in part to this (as my boyfriend, years back)... because I would react... and act in a certain fashion... and he'd never know why... and just resent me. So... now... I think it's become the opposite... I spill some stuff... in order to give a, "I'm like (this), because of (this)...can't hack it...good... didn't ask you to..." kind of crap. In Fletcher... I saw forever... and I told him much... in one shot... which I'm certain made me seem more like a lunatic... just chattin' away as if nothing... as if I just want him to know and decide... Can you deal with me? Because I even, can't sometimes? Y' know. And then the CD comment... and me bringing up songs or bands he hadn't heard of... "Seriously...?" "Errr... nope. Don't know." he'd answer. I'd start singing..."You're anti-social! Anti-social!" "Umm... nope." "Oh my God." and so... I've begun the process of making CD's for him... and normally including one or two songs, that cathartically bring back such memories in full color... is okay. I've learned to handle it. Live with it really... because it never goes away...does it? But... I just came across too much.. and before I could just breath about it all... too many other things came over me... and didn't allow me to finish dealing with any one thing... and it's all piled up... My dad.. knows about me wanting to go to England... although not the specifics... (but I think he KNOWS, if you understand), and he was suppose to mail some stuff for taxes and such... so that I may file them ASAP... because I need the money for it... yeah... he lied.... never mailed them... so had my baby brother help me out. Add to that... not having Fletcher here... and all the issues of trust I have being tested all at once...christ. And the lack of his touch, smell, and words in my face... just takes the crises into three fold. Then, I have random issues from friends... Then, work... hate it. My dog is dying... I'm homesick... friend sick... I want to hear my baby boy (god son speak)... he's speaking now... with teeth and all... and I'm in love with this little boy, like I can't tell you...If only because I fear, he may be the closest thing to my own... that will ever be... These memories, this past, I need to get a grip... And This bitch (psycho,psycho,psycho...) nibbling at my ankles, like a fucking midget poodle, thinking she's some damn German Shepard and shit... and worst... because if there are two days of the year I never do well... no matter how hard I try... Today Danny G. would have been my age... my age... and the fact that there are poodles on this earth... that just don't get it... and Danny- whom was the most selfless person, I can't tell you... And I don't say this because he's gone forever... he affected so many... so many.. I just can't tell you... but here we have... said poodles... on selfish over drive... and forgive me... but like an a-typical child... I can't accept the sheer randomness of life... and I so want them dead instead... and you take all this... Well... I need to take some time. As I appropriately listen to Anthrax... old school all the way... "You're Anti!... |
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