overocea: (Default)
oh, oh. I'm in love.
love love love love love you dark and long

fall in love with people
all all all the time
and love it, love it so! I love love so; I do.

I feel so tingly, alive and squirmy
I feel my insides like they try to leap ouT!
I feel, oh gosh, I shiver.
oh my. what do I do?

I'll tell you. I dream and smile
and wish and why
and just love it and that is all.

yeah.. it's all I need.
overocea: (the spell)
I sometimes think I would like to implant little radio transmitters in everyone I care about, so I know where they are at all times. more! little video cameras in their pupils, so I can see what they see.. at all times. i'd have a wall of television screens, one for each person, and would sit in front of it all day long.

my intentions are lousy with selfishness, self absorption.
I would like to be honest to a hate-inducing fault.

well..
I can count my bitter exes on twenty hands.

"You were born to be a radio song girl, they're all singing about you, it's uncanny. Have you ever really listened?"
"Of course not; I merely hear."
"Nothing I can say matters. Your armour leaves these words broken at your feet."
"Oh, tears! and accelerated heart."
"I don't think about hitting or hurting you, but sex somehow seeps in, and I have thought about raping, or treating you as someone not worth anything more."

so the rain, oh, the rain. i'd had to go into the city last night to visit my visiting mumm, walked as usual to the bus stop with my umbrella.
umbrellas are my favourite things and I would like them to grow from peoples' heads instead of hair, from angels' backs instead of wings.
my umbrella was insufficient. somehow I got soaked from eyelash- to toe-tips so I left footprint puddles on the carpet. I had to borrow my mumm's clothes, tie up her jeans with a ribbon from her hatbox and fall over in her pointy shoes.

then, wandering cold and lonely 3am streets, I feel that everyone in the world must also be wandering cold and lonely 3am streets, so why aren't we doing it together? then I realise they're curled safe in warm and unlonely 3am beds. bastards.
overocea: (Default)
I have been thinking so much.

My next relationship will be quite normal and healthy, I think. Involving not moving in or getting married within the first week, not desperate or obsessive, not so sweep away romantic, so gorged on each other we waste away from the rest of life, etc.

ah. but can I help myself? I have sweep-away-romantic, obsessive tendencies, and am attracted to, seem to attract, others with them also.

It would be much easier to go back to my super-independent, prefers to be alone/never gets lonely old self. What happened to her?

Well. Today I am going up to top-of-mountain Atherton to have devonshire coffee over a crater-lake. hurrah!

Also. Love my pretty black kittens so much I want to be one too:

pur

or at least have eyes that glow and shoot people blind.
overocea: (Default)
I have been thinking about love, lately. Love love love love love you dark and long, like midnight. Well, I am confused about it, as we know. Wonder lots about it, about the people in it, whether I have been in it.

Today I had a talk about it with Dennis, who estimates it will take him over three years to let go of me, with whom he is in it. Love. Three years is unfathomable to me, I say, thinking of how long it has taken me to get over people. Three hours, usually.

There are two people with whom I think I may have been in it. One of them has been waiting a month for me to reply to his email. I would feel quite fine with never seeing him again, as I did two weeks after he left. That previous 2weeks, though, I would have happily died. Miserably died. Been okay with dying as long as it meant I did not have to be all alone thinking of him.

I think if I were to see him again I may fall back into it, however it is just too hard to find out. Too complicated. And anyway I am fine with not being in it with him. I think this may mean that I never really was.

He is probably reading this. I am sorry. I will write you soon.

Then, the other one, my ex-husband. Oh, how confused I am about our ex-relationship.

My memory is foggy. I left him four years ago. I am, though, quite sure that I was quite happy with him, that I would have been quite happy with him for four evers. I only occasionally and briefly considered leaving him when we were together, and that was largely because I wanted to leave his horrid country. He was my longest ever relationship, and it was remarkable because I did not grow bored with him. I generally grow bored with people rather quickly. Three months, for example.

Ah, yes! I used to hypothesise that after spending three months with someone you were bound to be in love with them. I must have mentioned this theory at least a dozen times here. Well, it has changed. If you are incapable of love, as I often consider myself to be, instead of being in love with them following three months, you will be bored.

But the point. I was not bored with him, Chris, after two whole years. Then, after I left him, I cried myself to sleep for weeks afterwards. It may have been months. I was so unhappy to be out of his horrid country, so lonely for him, so hurt by him.

I was talking aloud about this to myself this afternoon, pretending to talk to Dennis, as I do with almost everyone, when I began to cry.

My goodness. I thought this a long dead issue! Four years later! In fact I have hardly thought about it, about him, at all in this time.

But, but, but. I think I am still hurt. Perhaps I should have. Thought about it.

I am beginning to think I am not so hard hearted, not so cold and impenetrable, not so duck-feather-backed as I have lead myself to believe.

How much do I feel that I hide from myself? This is not the first time a storm of emotion has taken me by surprise. Talking to someone about my father a while ago something similar happened, a great bitterness came to my attention. A great disappointment. A great feeling of.. loss, missingness, a gaping hole in my life where a father should be.

He is probably reading this. He took offense at my mocking post about the goldfish incident and I have not heard from him since. Even on my birthday, which.. oh, yes! I cried then, too. I don’t care if I never hear from him again, and do you know why? I am BITTER. I am disappointed. I admit it. I can be hurt.

I always thought myself so resilient, so independent, practically antisocial; emotionless. What an idiot, what an idiot. My armour is so leathery, so robust, even I cannot breach it, myself. So well developed it went undetected for twenty-five years.

Why?

I will die of cancer.

Edited 30/06/11 to make public. I am not sure why I posted it privately. *shrug*
overocea: (Default)
I really, really need to _____. I am horribly frustrated.
HORRIBLY. and miserable. I wish I could be ragingly furious instead. ooo.

well I just got off the phone with Dennis.
I talk to him at least twice, thrice per day. if, for some reason, I don't answer my phone(s), he rings and rings them both until I do, leaving 10-20 messages. and SMSs. and emails. and comments on my livejournal. and messages on my friends' phones asking if they know where I am. and messages on my mumm's phone asking if she's spoken to me recently. etc.
okay he's only done those last few once or twice.

see, i'm his best friend. the only one who understands etc. the only one to whom he's completely opened up and poured etc. the love of his etc.
I broke up with him three+ months ago. sat cross legged, straight faced, empty chested, closed mouthed while he cried his fluttering, splattering heart all over the hardwood floor about his life now having no etc. thinking it'll be over soon. all this pandering. all this gentle petting. all this him.

but, but, but.

I was due to go to Cairns tomorrow, as I do 2-4 times per year. he lives in Cairns, now. he had all kinds of marvellous, best-friendly adventures planned for us, i'm sure. because when I tentatively informed him i'd had to push my flight back to next Monday for various uni-involved reasons, we had a minor repeat of the fluttering, splattering heart incident over the phone. but, see, it wasn't just that i'd be a week late. it was that I was annoyed at him for transferring $120 into my bank account so I could change the flight, again, to four days earlier. it was that, for some apparently insane and selfish reason, I just refused to do it.

"why would I?" I say. "you're not even my partner. you're just a friend. why should I move my flight ahead four measly days for you? there's no reason to. it's unnecessarily absurd. etc."

surely that is a sound argument, i'm thinking. surely it is reasonable.

because, although surely it is enough, it is not all!
the thing is... I do have selfish reasons for not doing it. selfish reasons i'm not telling him about. because what he doesn't know won't hurt him. and because i've promised him I won't <quote>see</unquote> anybody until after my trip to Cairns.

Friday night a semi-friend (as friendly as they get, to me) is having a costume housewarming rave, rave, rave.
and the crush of my life (read: crush of my present) will be there.
I have diabolical plans to spirit him to some dark corner and make him my night-long prey. either that or I have plans to gaze and mutely blush, etc.

sigh sigh.
I am evil. just so everyone knows.

now. I have 1,500 words to write by tomorrow.
and $20 worth of junk food to consume while doing so.
excuse me.
overocea: (Default)
still waking up with permanence at 4am or earlier, despite th time AT WHICH I go to bed. but it's gorgeous, earliest morning, when even witches are dead to th world. i've coffee, crunchynut cornflakes, wrapped in a blanket under a heater with ren&stimpy, my house glowing from every eye. I feel lucky. I feel i've promise.

4hours later: I feel an idiot. I vaguely recalled one of my thesis group mentioning we were meeting at 9am rather than 11. so am at uni, on time, except that was LAST WEEK. we DID meet at 9. and this week we are meeting as usual at 11. sigh.

3hours later: what is wrong with me today? I feel so dissatisfied. I feel wrong. I feel lonely. I want desperately to bump into someone I know. I want to gorge. I want to drink. I want to smoke. I want to fuck. I want to run. I don't know what I want.. but it's something. and right now. I want it.

ugh! i'm so frustrated. dissatisfied. wrong.
I could leap out my skin.
I could scream out my lungs.
I feel like I need to be saved.

p.s. waking up in the early hours unable to go back to sleep is a SYMPTOM OF DEPRESSION.

4hours later: I must think of him more than he thinks of me.
perhaps.

I don't know! because, well.. he couldn't guess how often I think of him. so.. I can't.. guess...

on the surface, uh, from an alien point of view, it would seem he thinks of me. more. most of our contact is him-initiated.
but that's true of my contact with anyone!
it's just so often..

but I can't guess how often he thinks of me.
I hope it's heaps.

this isn't healthy.
I seem to have a habit for unhealthy relationships.

but this one!.. confuses me.
I have to stop thinking about it.

livejournal addendum: if you're one of the many! who could be reading this thinking it may be about you: i'll never te-ell.

I just realised how many! of you could have thought. wow. i'm in a lot of unhealthy relationships at the moment! yay! and I love you all. :D

lol I suck.

past:

Nov. 10th, 2003 11:16 pm
overocea: (Default)
people in pain are attractive
45 seconds between heartbeats

there is a way to fall in love
(such as keeping his used toothpaste tubes forever)
loved, loving.
you're allowed to take it back (I don't deserve it)
be mine
i'd give you all day
if you'd smile at yourself in the mirror

ah. as long as we're making things everything'll be fine.
tire yourself out every day. burst out laughing.

can one person have More potential than another?
they can't help looking down when you look them in the eye

insects bleed copious amounts of bright red blood
you're free to react as extremely as you wish
a bed with curtains
bad thoughts. bad words.
go ahead, guess what my favourite word is. it wouldn't be hard, even spelled correctly.

sigh. sigh. i'm so uncertain. need to discertain.
I use the enter key in place of punctuation. that's all.

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