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Mar
13
2015
No surfin colorado.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to dream. All lines have been so badly blurred by chemical reactions that nothing ever felt real anymore, especially not dreams. Within those blurred lines I had glimpses of “me” still somewhere waiting, and I’ve had no way to…remember. The catalyst was simply changing chemicals.
Now, I remember everything, and I remember what it feels like to be back in control.
I’ve finally been deeply dreaming again, and I finally feel connected in ways I’d lost.
Ultimately there’s always a price, and it was her. So many years of silence, and that’s not silence to dare be broken because it does seem that even with inaction we become immeasurable forces of nature. As she did many years back by dreaming of me exactly as my life was that moment, and urged to find a way simply to let me know…this is my only way of doing the same thing.
Every second of that dream was terrifying when she told me she is refuting her current life and choosing the one with me. I was a decision and not a default. I remembered everything, and felt…”how awful goodness is.”. I had to then wake up, here, with those lips and words so tangible. You are the welling in my eyes for the rest of this day, and the tightening in my throat reminding me I’m capable of these useless emotions.
I’m lucky that, in this disgusting place, I had the singular opportunity to have shared something so strange with another person. Little Shehag, I hope you had one night of peace again, for us to dance the way we do in dreams.
Mar
05
2015
Happy?
I don’t really remember how to be happy anymore. Is that weird? Is anyone really happy?
Two things control my life and ruin relationships…recent surgery has hopefully fixed one, and hopefully I can determine that my thyroid causes the other, being all the depression, disinterest, detachment, and drain.
Fatigue cannot explain how difficult my life can be while living with constant insomnia and undiagnosed hypersomnia.
I’d love to remember how my life was comfortable so many years ago when I had a girl to share life with instead of struggling daily to simply feel…adequate.
Living the life of a king can still leave one feeling helpless and discarded. Don’t ever wish for a life with so much potential for disparity.
Feb
09
2015
12 hours
Here we go. It has been years since I’ve had a serious medical procedure performed, so I can’t decide if I’m stressed or just on edge as normal. It is a bit of a relief that I can hopefully be rid of the problem and stop having such social anxiety about it…or…everything goes horribly wrong.
I don’t have a bad feeling, and I don’t sense anything is looming, but it is still possible for someone to fuck up and kill me or cause permanent irreversible damage…so I can’t lie that it isn’t heavy on my subconscious.
Time will tell I suppose, I just have to get prepped, sleep, and hope that none if my body piercing holes close up if they won’t let me keep plastic in them.
It should be the last thing I’m thinking about, but oddly enough…that is the part bothering me the most. Seems they don’t like metal in the body while they use electricity to cauterize things because sparks can jump to the next metal objects… I’ve worked many tiring painful years for some of my adornment, and I’d hate them to go to waste over being out for a few hours.
In the event things turn horrible, just know I love you all, and a couple of you maybe a little bit more.
Xoxo,
Flitzy
Dec
27
2014
Cherchez
One day things are brilliant, and the next day things are gone. It is incredibly confusing, this whole “life” thing. So many months have passed with zero words spoken…and before that…so many years passed with no words spoken…is it me? Do they run? Do they change?
The common denominator turns out to be me, so I can only figure I’m the one changing. Am I switching lives as it it feels I do, or is it always about being the lesser deal? Some part of me thought I would have heard something because of the holidays…but I shouldn’t expect anything different.
Sometimes I wonder if things would be easier if I knew how to pretend to be normal. sometimes I wonder if things would be easier if I stopped being so honest.
Dec
24
2014
Persistence of Imperfection
I keep waking up in the wrong place.
All the littlest things are different, but always the things most valued. I’ve luckily found the ones that keep remembering me, but the rest seem oblivious. I could chalk it up as normality, but so often this keeps happening. Someone comes close enough, and then hours afterward I keep wondering if it really happened. I awake as a stranger, as if we’d never met, but I’m the one that remembers. I could be a stranger, or at least someone robbed of dozens of hours, but it always feels like I’m the only one that notices the change.
Am I slipping into a world that isn’t mine, or am I slipping out of a world that was yours? Perhaps I’m imagining all of it, perhaps my deja vu is self inflicted, or perhaps I really do leave such an impression that I’m meant to be forgotten.
Such strange times.
At best, though, some actually remember.