" I am famous for several things, wit, money, and in my time, beauty - never for my good nature."
Anne Perry, lightly disguised as Lady Vespasia Cumming-Gould in her short story, Sing A Song of Sixpence. Anne Perry, formerly known as Juliet Hulme, is a bestselling author of Victorian murder mysteries, but may be more widely recognized for the infamous real-life murder of her lesbian lover's mother in 1950's New Zealand; that school girl murder was the inspiration for Peter Jackson's disturbingly beautiful masterpiece, Heavenly Creatures .
I still love you. I love you even when I hate you. I love you even when you are being a jerk. I love you even if we are wrong for each other. I love you even if we shouldn't ever get back together. I love you even if you never speak to me again.
I get so angry because I just want you to use your potential. You are such a smart person. You are a gifted and talented artist. You could be a director or some kind of film maker. If you wanted to be.
But when I see you hurting yourself, it makes me mad. Because I love you and want the best for you. And when you hurt me, it makes me mad. Because I love you.
This is painful and weird and embarassing and hard. But I have to be true to my heart and my soul.
Iaall remember it
And Dublin in a rainstorm
And sitting in the long grass in summer
Iaall remember it
Every restless night
We were so young then
We thought that everything
We could possibly do was right
Then we moved
Stolen from our very eyes
And I wondered where you went to
Tell me when did the light die
You will rise
The phoenix from the flame
You will learn
You will rise
Being what you are
There is no other Troy
For you to burn
And I never meant to hurt you
I swear I didn't mean
Those things I said
I never meant to do that to you
Next time I'll keep my hands to myself instead
Oh, does she love you
What do you want to do?
Does she need you like I do?
Do you love her?
Is she good for you?
Does she hold you like I do?
Do you want me?
Should I leave?
I know you're always telling me
That you love me
Just sometimes I wonder
If I should believe
Oh, I love you
God, I love you
I'd kill a dragon for you
But I will rise
And I will return
The Phoenix from the flame
I have learned
I will rise
And you'll see me return
Being what I am
There is no other Troy
For me to burn
And you shouldaave left the light on
You shouldaave left the light on
Then I wouldn't have tried
And you'd never have known
And I wouldn't have pulled you tighter
No I wouldn't have pulled you close
I wouldn't have screamed
No I can't let you go
And the door wasn't closed
No I wouldn't have pulled you to me
No I wouldn't have kissed your face
You wouldn't have begged me to hold you
If we hadn't been there in the first place
Ah but I know you wanted me to be there oh oh
Every look that you threw told me so
But you shouldaave left the light on
You shouldaave left the light on
And the flames burned away
But you're still spitting fire
Make no difference what you say
You're still a liar
You're still a liar
"Troy" ~ Sinead O'Connor
Today I went walking for miles and miles through the city in the rain, for isn't that what goth girls do?
I think I enjoy rain because of my childhood back East. Heavy, cold rains remind me of North Carolina. And since Southern Nevada has been going through a drought for the past few years, rain is a rarity and a gift.
I took my $10 Trader Joe's gift card and stre-e-eeeee-tched it to the max! I bought a Shrimp Louie salad and a bottle of Galvanina mineral water for my lunch, plus a tin of organic moist cat food as a treat for Mr.Marmalade, a small box of organic cotton tampons, a container of vanilla flavored rice milk, and two blackberry things that appear to be the organic version of a fruit roll-up. I also sampled their free crab cakes, grilled chicken with cranberry relish, and some super yummy coffee sweetened with stevia and french vanilla soy creamer.
Now I'm relaxing at the library and teaching the elderly man seated next to me to send an email properly. Today has been a good day.
If I didn't have to pee so bad I swear I'd write a better entry.
I am a bit less young and a little (just a little) wiser. Today I strut in the December chill wearing sexy motorcycle boots and sheer black tights with a short polyester skirt. Tight pink sweater, dangly cross earrings, and black fingerless, fishnet opera gloves make the outfit complete. People tell me that I look twenty-two, twenty-four tops. So all of the lotion is working, natch.
Who says there's no free lunch? Those weekly ritual paycheck spins paid off with their silly points program.
Be sure that you'll find me sipping Twining's Sunset Rose tea while I devour an old-fashioned English mystery novel. Near by, my cat grows sturdy and strong. His full name has been decided: Mr. Hal B. Marmalade. Of course the B. stands for Bartholomew. Mr. Marmalade, I say with all due respect, but my friends seem to be stuck on Hal.
Thanksgiving was a melodramatic social nightmare, give thanks to my roommate. But on the bright side, I got a chance to cook homemade goodness from scratch for four hours! The turkey was superb!
I've finally come full circle back to myself. I feel strong, content, okay.
Hair freshly trimmed, new job secured, and an appointment made to see the dentist. My vigor for reading, writing, and creating has returned full force. Hot showers, scented cosmetics, cheap accessories, white candle light, and burned CDs work wonderful magic for my spirit. The new New Order sounds a bit like Joy Division, but trash the rest. The band hit their hey-day in the mid-80's I'm sorry to say. They never reached a greater peak than "Blue Monday" or "Regret".
I'm sober and I've ditched the cloves, even. I think I want to stay in Las Vegas. The events of the past year have given me a fresh perspective, and from my neighborhood I see a beautiful city outline of a Vegas that I was blind to before. Besides, I've grown so used to Christmas without ice, winter chill coupled with blue skies instead of gray, splendid Autumn and Spring weather, pleasantly flat streets, and rows upon rows of palm trees. If I went back East for too long I'd just get depressed:too many bugs and fog. I like it here, again. Another case of perception altered. My mother seems to associate this city with Fantasy Island. I pray that someday I can bring her here and let her witness for herself.
Giving up the political agenda for I have no real pull anyhow. My vote didn't count. Besides, what social conscience I have will best be used locally, personally. I'll help one person at a time instead of fretting about a man's world that is so much bigger than I'll ever be. Unless I'm planning a successful future as a mass murderer, it would be well advised for me to settle the fuck down. Of course I'll never stop repressing the urge to slash the tires of those beastly, environmentally hazardous SUVs, or OVMs as I've begun to call them. "An Ode to Vehicular Manslaughter". Maybe someday I'll write stories that make people think. Just maybe. I still don't think I want to have any kids. The two-month childcare gig just served to confirm my natural aversion to parenting.
I think I'm ready to meet someone. Someone new. An attractive young man, preferably. Someone who is similar enough to be compatible, but different enough to be exciting. But I'm in no hurry. I'd rather wait for something worthwhile than rush into a mess.
Right now I'm terribly happy just being me.
Cozy kitty nap curled on the couch with a novel, under colorful blankets wearing purple socks and my old white granny nite gown that is currently dyed blue. A marmalade and vanilla fur ball,he purrs as the child plays, cute with springy black curls and clean scrubbed from the bath. She screams when I wash her hair, but all is forgotten as she quietly, earnestly plays with her baskets, balls, books, and dolls. Toddlers play with such intensity. As if playing is the meaning of life. Is it?
I act the silent observer as the cat leaps to the floor, jumping and pawing on the carpet, staring at her with slanted green acid eyes - interacting intuitively from a distance with the baby. Animals and small children share an unspoken understanding... She lies upon the floor and runs her fingers along the toy basket, obviously lost in thought, or perhaps simply noting the sensation of the textured wicker. I am floating just above my body, pure soul, thinking of my own childhood. Of family. Of love. Of selfishness and the need to overcome. As a lazy winter evening falls, I realize that this exactly where I need to be. For now.
Yes, I'm becoming one of those annoying people who post song lyrics. Sorry. But sometimes other people's words express what I'm feeling better than I can. This particular song is so beautiful to me, and yet it makes me want to hang myself. Ahem:
"let's dance in style, lets dance for a while
heaven can wait we're only watching the skies
hoping for the best but expecting the worst
are you going to drop the bomb or not?
let us die young or let us live forever
we don't have the power but we never say never
sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip
the music's for the sad men
can you imagine when this race is won
turn our golden faces into the sun
praising our leaders we're getting in tune
the music's played by the madmen
forever young, i want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever, forever and ever
some are like water, some are like the heat
some are a melody and some are the beat
sooner or later they all will be gone
why don't they stay young
it's so hard to get old without a cause
i don't want to perish like a fading horse
youth is like diamonds in the sun
and dimonds are forever
so many adventures couldn't happen today
so many songs we forgot to play
so many dreams are swinging out of the blue
we let them come true"
"forever young" ~ alphaville
Joey, baby - don’t get crazy
Detours. fences... I get defensive
I know you’ve heard it all before -
So I don’t say it anymore
I just stand by and watch you
Fight your secret war.
Although I used to wonder why -
I used to cry till I was dry.
Still sometimes I get a strange pain
Oh, joey, if you’re hurting so am I.
Joey, honey - I got some money
All is forgiven. listen, listen
And if I seem to be confused
I didn’t mean to be with you.
And when you said I scared you,
Well I guess you scared me too.
But we got lucky once before
And if you’re somewhere out there
Passed out on the floor.
Oh joey, I’m not angry anymore