Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Recently, I seem to have reserved the deeply human issues for talking with...humans, oddly. As a result, what few online conversations I've had have come out slightly more...telling and worthwhile than what I've written, or considered writing, here.

A bit of conversation with Jeremey from tonight:

MidnightShaman7: I agree.
FieryGwenivere: how are you?
FieryGwenivere: that wasn't supposed to be big
MidnightShaman7: I'm okay.
MidnightShaman7: Ish.
MidnightShaman7: How are you?
MidnightShaman7: I tried to call you.
FieryGwenivere: I don' tknow. I don't think I'm well. And I
got the messag,e thank you for leaving one

MidnightShaman7: What's wrong?
FieryGwenivere: I;m not sure. Things. A sad song stuck in
my head. I don't like (hate) my body. It's hot. Each time I lose
Casey temporarily, I lose a little bit more of him permanently (I
think I may be out of pieces of him). My head hurts. I need
glasses, and I can't figure out the inner workings of my new
(crappy) health insurance policy in order to afford them. Gilmore
Girl's is playing repeats. I haven't had an orgasm in probably a
month, even with the vibrator. My neck hurts.

FieryGwenivere: A week ago, I was worried about *edited for content*,
but I haven't talked to him in a while. I've been using a guy at work as a substiture
for the drama
FieryGwenivere: I need something good to die for. To make
it beautiful to live.

MidnightShaman7: What about something good to live for?
FieryGwenivere: what I said was a line from the song stuck
in my head. That line...,I think it's what's really wrong

MidnightShaman7: Oh.
FieryGwenivere: that song is...I don't know, one of Zack's.
FieryGwenivere: We got into a fight or something of that
nature one night, and even when it was over for me, I could tell
something about it wasn't over for him. He said he just needed
to listen to a song, so he got his MP3 player and sat on the

FieryGwenivere: It was a particular song, "The Flow" by I
don't know who. Trying to find it on his harddrive now

FieryGwenivere: he sat there and listened to it, like a zombie,
until about halfway through when he started crying, silently
until it turned into something akin to laughter. And then, once
the song was over and the crying was over, he was back to
normal. I asked to listen to the song

FieryGwenivere: It was a good song, but I had a difficult
time enjoying it, because i thought it made him sad at first, then I
thought it made him happy, and ultimately I realized that it was
just something I didn't understand. Just a part of him that didn't
have to do with me, and I was threatened by that, as always.

FieryGwenivere: And there was this one line.
"I want something good to die for,
To make it beautiful to live."

FieryGwenivere: He said later that it was his favorite, and I
read into that that he could relate to it. I wanted to believe that
he could relate to it from before he met me, and that I helped him,
but the fucking...me, myself, the way I feel about myself, all I
could really think all that time was that it's how he feels now,
that he's still empty inside.

FieryGwenivere: That I don't complete him. That I don't
come close.

FieryGwenivere: And I tried to hint at the way I felt, but I
could never get to him to say it.

FieryGwenivere: not that it would have mattered, I guess.
MidnightShaman7: So just ask him.
MidnightShaman7: If it's bothering you that much, get an

FieryGwenivere: I used to feel similar about "Dead Leaves
and the Dirty Ground", so I asked him and he said he liked it
because it reminded him of me

FieryGwenivere: but now I can dissassociate the feeling of
insecurity. Now every time I heard "And every breath that is in
your lungs is a tiny little gift to me.", I just hear myself saying
that's not how he feels about me, that's not how anybody feels
about me.

FieryGwenivere: The answer won't matter.
FieryGwenivere: I don't know.
MidnightShaman7: So, when it comes down to it, what is
really the root of everything?

FieryGwenivere: I'm still trying to find it in his list of MP3's.
I don't know why I should care so much about somebody loving
me who also likes the song "A Horse with No Name".

FieryGwenivere: part of me will never believe he loves me.
MidnightShaman7: Don't be ragging on America, chica.
MidnightShaman7: Then you need to fix that.
FieryGwenivere: I enjoy America, to the extent of The Last
Unicorn soundtrack

FieryGwenivere: but jesus. I hate that fucking song.
MidnightShaman7: But...but...
MidnightShaman7: ...He's been through the desert.
FieryGwenivere: godddamn it.

A conversation I had with emily a few days ago has something of a similar theme, and I thought there were some interesting observations worth nothing. I should edit that for content as well, but I'm lazy, it's late, and fucking no one checks this site anymore anyway. If you're one of my voyeuristic fans out there, congratulations-- look hard enough and it's just possible you may see something that I didn't want people to know.

Now if only anybody cared.

On with it.


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