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who is still friended to this journal who isn't friended to my present journal but wants to be, please comment

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I'm starting a new journal to reflect changes in both my life and my state of mind. I feel like a different person: more centered, whole, calmer, less neurotic. My old style, which mainly consisted of exaggerated ranting and self-consciously contemplating my navel, just doesn't suit. This one is back up temporarily to give me an opportunity to salvage any entries worth keeping.
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where ever you go, there you are

I was, according to theory, conceived in south Florida. Some people believe that the soul chooses the place and time to be born, along with the decision of whom will become one's parents. Because, of course, a brilliant and sexy woman such as myself would choose an extremely talented jazz musician and poet, who can play seven different musical instruments, who also threw away his entire life, family, and intelligence on crystal meth to be her father. This man, lucky (?) to be alive and currently horribly disfigured in the face due to drug-related gun shot wound, refers to his wife of five years as "that girl I lived with in Florida". He's also fond of explaining away the travesty of his life with the oh-so-witty retort, "shit happens."
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so money

No - not really. But that's what I wished I had said to him while devouring a chocolate creme thingy as a Cuban performer sang a laughable rendition of Frank Sinatra's "My Way". I didn't really want the cherry but ate it anyway, coming to the conclusion that not doing so would be decidedly unspirited. I then bestowed my salad-complaining, whine spillage victims an obscene $15 tip - most likely due to the fact that I am enjoying sunny Florida following having hot sex with a sweet, sensual musician earlier this afternoon.
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(no subject)

" I sincerely apologize if I have been difficult or unreasonable. I have had a terribly long and taxing... life. As you can see, I have spilled my glass of wine and I'm heartily embarassed. If you could get me something in chocolate, that would be fabulous." ~ Me, to a waiter, in a half-assed steakhouse where the iceburg lettuce and pineapple salad certainly was not worth six whole dollars.
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Three Years

I loved your love, I clung to your love, but your love was not free. Your love came at a high price. For every kiss, cuddle, and moment of warmth, there was a time of struggle, of fight, of loss. The good always came tempered with bad. Very bad. I gave all of my energy to you. I gave all of myself to you. I was so in love with you at one point that I was willing to pay the price. I imagined that your love was priceless. I was willing to do without. I was willing to lose. Just to have your love. To to feel the strength of your love. Yet your love was conditional. Your love did not include forgiveness of small flaws, and it became slowly apparent to me that my worth as a woman (in your mind) wasn't equal to your imagined worth as a man. Your needs always came first. You had your family, but I did without mine. You had your life, but I bunched mine up, packed it into a suitcase, crunched it into a smaller space to accommodate your personality instead. You always had more space. Much like what you take for granted in your mother, you expected me to sacrifice everything for you. You interrupted my self time, invaded my privacy, interfered with my creative process, and punished me as if I were your slave. You acted as if you owned me. My love was not proved unless I hurt in some way. Your criticism is sharp and constant, your anger is purely demonic. Your love is hot, but so is your hatred. I lost a child, and the child was yours. I was five months pregnant and the fetus looked like a baby. It was a boy and he had facial features. He had my cupid's bow mouth and your prominent nose. But how would you know? You were always busy blaming me for everything, even when it was your own behavior - your drug addiction and violence - that drove me away to protect myself. Your constant chant is that I left you, but obviously I left you for a very good reason. You drained me like an emotional vampire, drinking my blood, everything on your terms. You can't take care of yourself, so the women in your life are expected to make up for your weakness. I escaped in order to save myself. I merely asked you to behave as a man: to be responsible, to practice a bit of self-control. What I asked of you was very reasonable, very normal...and if you "loved" me oh-so-much, then why couldn't you give me at least that?

I think it's time you look at your own face
Can't you see you're speaking out of place
There's nothing to keep you down
You're reaching for the sky while you drown
I'm aware that I've been lost and I've been unkind
But at least I got the courage to admit the crime
So don't come down on me
I'm still young I'm trying to believe

Wait, I'll be fine
Just give me a couple years to say my prayers
I'm alive, you should keep that mirror for yourself
You've got problems you never solve
And I'm the bearer of them all

Everybody's waiting for me to fall
You criticize my walk as I watch you crawl
Nothing's ever fair
But I believe in reality everywhere

Wait, I'll be fine
Just give me a couple years to say my prayers
I'm alive, you should keep that mirror for yourself
Everybody's fighting hard
But there's no leader in the dark

Everybody's waiting for a change
Everybody's waiting for...

Everybody's waiting for something better
Everybody's peeking behind that door
If you try too hard you will never find it
Everybody's waiting for something more
There is so much danger in wanting more...

~ Holly Williams, "Everybody's Waiting For A Change"
  • Current Mood
    calm calm
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To Err Is Divine

I am currently reading an excellent Hungarian novel, To Err is Divine by Agota Bozai.

The story reads in such a fashion that I am reminded of Jean-Paul Jeunet films. Fans of the cinematic wonder, Amelie , will probably enjoy this book.