need

some stormy weather

and some happy people

once upon a time, there was this young swordsman, who would spend hours underneath a tree, practicing his art.

night and day, his sword would swish through the air, as the tree protected him from rain and gave him apples when he grew tired and hungry.

sometimes, the swordsman's sword would cut across the tree, creating a gash. at this point, the swordsman would stop and repent. "dear tree", he would say, "forgive my actions, for they were caused in foolishness."

and the tree would wave its branches in the air, and shower the swordsman in leaves, and stand tall still.

for many months, the swordsman practiced underneath the tree. as he grew stronger, so his power with the sword grew too. consequently, the cuts he drew on the tree grew deeper and deeper, slicing the tree more and more.

one day, the swordsman finished his training. he was now strong and ready to step out into the world. he bid the tree farewell. "goodbye, dear friend" he said, "and thank you for standing by me these many months."

he left.

that night, there was a terrible thunderstorm. the wind howled and screeched, and the tree, unable to withstand any longer, snapped and fell to the ground.

never tried blogging whilst drunk. not that im drunk now.

what's funny is that while typing here im eating a muffin. its a little bit ironic.

so i had a horrible and wonderful night. so many emotions swirling everywhere. and why is this city filled with drunk disgusting men! must move to a kingdom far far away. with princes and shit.

so many secrets and lies and betrayals and desires i feel like im living in a good indian soap opera. which of course doesn't exist. so i must become asexual and live in domesticated isolation so that my life remains simple and happy. but that's the problem, that i don't want to be alone.

but i don't want to be with anyone who wants to be with me, and i don't even want to be with the person i want to be with. because fuck that shit. past shit is done shit and no one needs that shit anymore.

time to become a monk and look forward to some inner fucking peace. right now the accent in my head is very strongly scottish man because of the company i was in "mahn" haha.

i really hope things work out. and that everything is okay. so much STRESS! aaaaaaaaa.

time to breathe. peace out man. peace out.

friends to lovers to nothing

Sometimes I look in the mirror and think I look pretty. But then I realize that I'm alone and think that maybe I'm wrong.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't some unhappy rant about the travesty that is my love life. Nor is it some great reflective commentary on life and all its glorious meanings. Just me and the weird thoughts I have that I think are too weird for the world. But then, there once was a man who thought sticking beads up his ass was a good idea. So I realize the precedent for weird thoughts is quite high in society.

I wonder if anyone ever has those moments, or days, or weeks or months or years, where they feel like there is a wall between them and the people around them. It's a really amusing feeling sometimes, you know, when you can just sit back and think to yourself, "Dance for me, my puppets!" But then you're so busy watching them and you forget that they're people and then you don't know what to say to them after you make an inappropriate Pinocchio comment and no one knows what you're talking about 'cus lets face it, you're on a whole different tangent. In another dimension.

Sometimes I laugh to myself over conversations that I have. With myself. In my head. No, really, I swear, I'm really funny! This one time I tried to explain to a friend a joke that I'd thought of which kept making me crack up. So basically, it involved my sexual fetish for the library. Which I don't have, really, but circumstantially it was funny. Anyway, so of course then the guy thought the joke was really weird, because he was like, why do you want to have sex with the library? (Yes with, not in.) But I was too busy laughing at this awesome joke to explain.

Maybe, I'm just too brilliant for these foolish mortals. But then I remember that I'm needy and messy and insecure and like my Maggi cold and can't walk in heels and then I think, who am I to judge?

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if someone ever actually understood the workings of my mind. Actually, that's not true. Lots of people have come close. Actually, that's not true either. Some have. I'm glad for those people. But then, moving here, to this new place, I have to make a whole new set of people understand and adjust to me. And while I make myself...adjustable... I feel like I'm losing the person I was.

That's why we have blogs. 

promise me
that when we reach,
however long it takes,
that you'll take a walk down the shore with me,
whatever time it is,
and we will watch the sunrise together... 

ive been called "the traveler." the person who comes into your life for a short while and then disappears.

for once i want to meet someone who gives me a reason to stay.

who doesn't resign himself to the fact that "this won't last." because things don't last unless you want them to last.

or maybe there is some inexplicably undesirable thing about me that no one can stay faithful to for more than a few months.

this is just sad.