Uneasy Feelings

My mystery illness sends fire through my guts and my excessive marijuana consumption clouds my head and makes it heavy.
Why is it that self medication is more appealing then actually fixing my brain? Because avoidance, cushioning, memory loss offers an easy path, confrontation and work are the alternatives to wrapping my brain in the cloud of oblivion each luxurious pull brings.
I like forgetting, I like silence and soothing stupidity. I like smoking, I like the feel of pulling poisons deep into my body, deeper then any lover.
Mr Eye confuses me and makes me eat. That old comfort food thing rears again it's ugly head. I want to be thinner and more attractive, yet feeling fat and unattractive makes me eat, hmm. Break the habit, break the mold, free myself from food.
Mr Eye behaves as though he wants me, yet lies next to me all night without a touch. I am once again spending my time with a man who wants intimacy of the mind but not the body. This time things will be different, this time I am stronger and he is not my whole life.
The Dude has taught me well the pain of unrequited love, especially between best friends. So sorry Mr Eye but this time I am not accepting friendship, I want more and I am not sticking around and desperately loving someone who does not want me.
So Mr Eye where to from here? We shall see, it is early days yet. Would it be fair to warn him of my stance? To say "no sex no play?" Best not to, the man has enough issues already. And it would destroy my carefully constructed casual attitude. Best to enjoy the ride, accept the incongruent behaviour and see where this is all leading.
Mr Eye, I did so enjoy our romp, I like the feel of you inside me, we worked well together for our mutual pleasure. Let us enjoy again or it may be the end of this. I would rather it not be a brief bittersweet affair, but it is not my choice to make, rather a joint consultation prcoess.

Confessions of a Word Nerd

This is the last post on my other "public" blog. But now I want a private site just for me and my words to hang out and be comfortable in.

So back in Australia I am yes. Somethings are unchanged, but everything is different. The eyes I look through are the same I left with, but they are changed. I think maybe I grew up a little bit; yes I know that is not hard considering my previous level of maturity.

May the Fourth be with you my friends.

I have a whole lot of nothing to say.

I am in a strange mood, it may be attributed to the head injury I recieved last night. Minor bruising and a lump caused by a CD to the head, yes I kid you not. Probably the most amusing injury since I bruised my groin playing with my poi.

Today is the day of random messages from My Space patrons. Tis the curse of joining all the available internet space things, whatever you will call them, to be public and have my photo out there for all to see. Who are these people who write to strangers based on a photo and some wanky crap about popular culture preferences? Disconnected lives crossing on the twist of optical fibres. Why do people reach out across the ether with comments for strangers they know nothing about? Is it hope or sadness that presses the hand to seek other screens and blank IP addresses to be their friends? Somewhere out there a warm body stares inot a computer screen and conjures messages to try and find another body to make contact with.

I do not know what I want. I have been so focused on getting a job, a home, shoes, clothes to wear to court, I have not stopped to decided what I want, I have just done it. So now I have a job, a home, court clothes and shoes and I am uneasy.

Since I got back I have been to Byron for Blues and Roots, contracted and recovered from face leprosy, seen many bands, had many drinks, been to a couple of parties, caught up with many friends, had so much glorious food, started poi. There is more, these are the stream of conciousness surface floaters that I am willing to share. Other more private things have happened, but they are mine until I decide I can show them to you, if I ever do.

So much has happened and yet because I am not traveling suddenly I stop writing, I still keep a journal but my public ramblings had, until now, ceased. I know this was set up as a travel journal, the whole point was to inform and entertain my peeps back in Oz, and those I know around the globe, but I like it. I am not going to stop even though I am back, and I know from my blog stats that no one is checking it anymore, so I can say what I like, tempting.

I am sure in some stupid anthropormorphic way a little corner of cyberspace has missed me, no I am not sure, I would just like to believe it. What is the shape of the internet? If all that information was incarcerated on paper and put together, how much would there be?

I will not publish this yet, maybe never. Maybe I will start a new blog where nobody knows and write all the secret words I keep for myself, the private ones that form the inner me. Somewhere to record my angsty poetry and my twisted sentence fragments, to play with language and shape it into the sounds of me. To muse about my life, my friends, my loves, my fears and hopes.

And now recording this, I realise that I have given my blog out again, there is a chance people may still be reading this, hmm, interesting timing. I like the idea of people reading what I write, hence the desire to be a writer, maybe this is why I once again find my fingers straying across the keybaord forming the sentences I leave unsaid.

Maybe I should go home and get some sleep. Maybe I should run away again, but that won't work. Maybe I should let go and drift away.

Dreams and thoughts dart like fish in a sea of words crashing through my mind.