Spirit (daimones) wrote,

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My head is -still- killing me.

2 Advil’s? ibuprofen? and 5 hours later....or maybe it's 7. Who knows.

A few funnies.

Tiny toons: Don't forget girls, never underestimate the power of spandex

Tommy (from Rugrats) has a female voice actor. <- My world is crushed. Even as an 'adult'!

And a few thoughts before I start on my morning. Or evening. Or whatever.

Emotional Desert. Yes, we have desert of the real, or even just deserts (desserts are pretty good too). Places where desperate people end up. Where there is nothing but sand and desperate hope for the unprepared. Where mirages lead you astray and where water is nothing but an illusion that leaves you choking on your intentions.

Now parallel all that to the emotional desert I mention. I think I'm in one, accidentally. Or maybe not so. I was doing fine, and then I let my guard down...and now all my emotional outpourings are the work of a man desperate. And all they seem to leave me with is dust and slowly dying reason, allowing hope to take over. And thus the cycle continues, till someday I will awake with nothing but sand for my efforts. Wasteful, meaningless sand. Raw-red around the mouth, voice hoarse and unrecognizable from the screaming, those that can hear, ignoring that strange humming wind. Except the vultures. Except the mirages which tug me to and fro. And even were I to find that which I seek, I would not recognize it, only gorge myself on it, make myself sick on it, and think it too is a mirage.

In short, I'll be a wreck of a man with nothing to call his own and nothing to claim him except the end.

And thus will I live out the rest of my life. I'm really quite afraid that's where I'm going to end up. I don't even know how to stop the mirages, stop responding to them, get my thoughts together, and find the way out. I just don't. And I'm scared.

Which all brings me to my morning. Or whatever. I had another dream. This time I was murdering people as it seemed the only way to get anyone to pay attention to me. Then of course...something...happened. I don't remember what. Maybe I wasn't the one murdering people. They were people I care for, so who knows. But something happened and I was suddenly...crap. The dream is running away as I look at it with conscious eyes. Fucker. Come back! Alas.

So I woke up. Still not a message, or a missed call. Remember, dying hope....so I try my daily round of calls, not really thinking I'll get anywhere. Lo and behold! First try! She sounded surprised, and was like, 'Where have you been?' And as I wasn't really awake, I probably wasn't very good. And as I wasn't really awake, I probably wasn't very good. She did get that I'd been trying to reach her, but she did have a point. No messages...

I really should work on that. Leave messages, not just reminders that I called. Give contextual reason for the message to exist in. I can do that, I hope. I'm going to get the laundry now. Set the mousetrap again. Second time I've set it this week, second time the stupid fucker has outwitted me. (hrm. re-read that...)

She said she'll be home. If she's like the rest of my friends, though, she'll probably put it off as long as she can. I'm no good to be around, I guess. As usual, even if I disagree with nykkit, her assessments are (both medically and emotionally! - see, you are a good doctor.;) correct. People don't want to be around me. I think too much, am too violent, and have changed into some other person. (probably with a red-rough mouth).

And that's all probably too harsh. But nonetheless.

Oh. An apology for Jo! For missing her party. My excuse is that it was too soon. I mean. It's been since July. How dare I see her 4 months out. I have other reasons, but why bother. Those are my fault.

So. Uh. Laundry now. Someone's got to be the bitch. Might as well be me. ;)

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