Archive for category Rant
“Write a blog post about -that-.”
Posted by identitykrysis in List, Pieces Of Reality, Rant on August 26, 2009
Curl around this
warmth
Desire
…d
And achieved
Breath release of overflow
———————————————————————————————————-
I want to cement this feeling into my psyche. This completeness.
Everything wonderful happened today.
Work was great. The people were fun. I was -me-. Not shy, reserved, work me. But interactive me! I got handed an opportunity today that blew me away. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I won’t say anything just yet because… well… build up is everything.
My workout at the gym was inspired. I wanted to keep going and going. But I couldn’t because I was having dinner with the lovely Carissa. Dinner was at Cafe Barney’s. Which is my new favourite place on Main.
What. Delicious. Food.
Got chatted up by an incredibly worldly and interesting man. Chatted up in return which led to the smoothest possible number exchange ever.
Rapport rocks.
Carissa rocks. Good friends are wonderful!
Celebrated my joy at my favourite place on The Drive, where some of my favourite people happened to be there.
Arrived home to my space and my cat and my family and I told my sister how happy I am…
…and she said:
“Write a blog post about -that-.”
Like waterbeds, some things are just a passing fad
Posted by identitykrysis in Poem, Rant, Uncategorized on August 19, 2009
first notes
pluck forth unbeatable rhythm
the very cells, the light, inside this
pushing
broken with edges
curves water as it disappears
under
playing with those rays
still there, twisting unawares of the outcome
but always
driving
forward
down and deeper
until gone
——————————————————————————————–
With the emergence of new evidence and life in the past couple weeks, I am renewed. I am overjoyed by the possibilities. The building beat that encourages me to move.
Seen old friends and regular friends and decided who really is my friend and who never really was.
Met new ones who are genuine, real people, with such a capacity to care and inspire. So many stories shared by the beach or over a beer. I’ve been finding people coming to me for thoughts on their situations. I’ve been honoured by that.
I’ve also been bitchy and outspoken and generally unapologetically… me.
One of my favourite moments was being challenged to a fight over dancing with a guy.
I laughed in her face.
I’ve been actively abandoning anything that isn’t good for me, healthy or reflective of the life I want and have.
Because the last two weeks made me realize I do have the life I want and I’m on the way to the rest of it. My other book is motoring along. Connections are being made. The calm I get when I go to the gym or go for a run reminds me to cherish my solitude when I can get it. Which hasn’t been often. Running reminds me to keep moving forward. I only look over my shoulder to make sure those who matter are nearby. Not behind. Nothing holding me back.
Things are rolling off easier. I don’t have time for people who are frequently depressed or overly complicated or who consistently live in a diminishing half-life. If you want my help, I will give it. But at some point you have to help yourself out of the depths as well.
We all choose our paths. We all reflect the paths we’ve chosen in certain ways by certain actions.
My last entry was a conversation with myself. Aspects of myself. I frequently talk about how one side feels this and one side is that. It’s ridiculous, I am whole and one. I am conflicted because I frequently romanticize the past and try to trick myself into seeing something that isn’t there. While the rational freaks out (and is ultimately frustrated) at this process.
I’ve been lied to so much in the last few years. At first it was shitty of them to lie to me. But then, the more I let it happen, it was shitty of me to remain there. It was shitty of me to go back. I helped set up a precedence of use and misuse between myself and these people. They were just as wrong as I was.
Because change takes effort. Takes looking at yourself in such a way that isn’t flattering all the time. I’ve taken the good and the bad. I’ve listened to what words those around me tell me. Because I trust and love them. They want what’s best for me and always tell me the honest truth.
I’m finally getting what I wanted.
Not the passing fad.
The real deal.
Naked at 3AM part: 2
Posted by identitykrysis in Rant on August 3, 2009
Body and head… all messed up from sun stroke. I’m awake after passing out from dizziness and heat exhaustion at 8pm.
I wrote this whole entry (part: 1) and felt sick by the end of it. Not a good sign. So I didn’t post it. Well it’s posted, right there between this post and the last, in that empty space that’s filled with everything we shouldn’t say. I saved it there. Holding onto the truths within it.
The most I can take out of it is: being in the Pride Parade today (yesterday) with all the enthusiasm and dancing and making people excited and happy made me realize…
I’m a good actor.
And a good woodland nymph.
I’d rather be a good woodland nymph.
This Is The Beginning of The Second Page
Posted by identitykrysis in Essay, Rant on July 15, 2009
. Apparently smoking can make you impotent. I wonder if that’s what was wrong.
Maybe we’ll just have to see…
. The beautiful thing about typewriting, is it’s all based on how much strength you put behind the letters you type. The force and intent with each stroke. I lifted the past page of typing to the sky and could see throught the periods. Either I’m being too forceful, 6r periods are that important. They found their way through the mesh of dead trees, blanced to look white. Nothing is as strong as a period.
. I wonder if that’s why the menstrual cycle, or the climax of it, is call the period. Because it epit*mises the end of &&&&& the cycle. Or is it the vision of it. This is becoming far too graphic for my masculine side. Yes I have one. We have an aspect of the femini
(let’s try that word again) …feminine and masculine. Mine is centered in the aggression I feel. If we’re going to keep the gender stereotypes alive. But then, we could also say we’re just a mess of one gender. And these aspe ts just showcawe different parts of the spectrum. And gender specific doe nt’t mean anything.
. Are we all just unisex? Sure there are those iwth pensis*, and there are those with vaginas. But the personality aspects are universal. I am a woman because I learned to be one. I am female because I am one. But our leaned aspects are not unchangable, are they? Or should I say, those learned aspetts ARE changeable. Whichs is what makes us the easily manipulated beings that we are. Because we are manipulated. So why can’t we manipulate oursel9es? We can. We do. We make life decisions that means we are different peoppe. Maybe not inherently. But surface changes. Thought changes. I keep coming back to changing. Change is important. Otherwise we are left with typeing on the typewrit
_er forever. Or not evengetting to the stage of typewriting at all.
. I’m gettingaway with myself. I need to remember to press the space key. It helps with our understanding.
. The Space Key.
. That long bar at the bottom of all keys.
The fact it’s so long speaks to how important it is. Because not only does one hand use it, but both do. (or, you’re supposed to) ..(do as I say, not as I do)
. I think I am amazed at how easily it is to fillx up a page it is. Oh man my grammar tends to suck on this thing. But I get really into typeing on it. It is. It. I am a machine that wants to work faster than need me. We all work faster than we need to. The evoltuion of the world has been profound. The human existence.
. I’m doing it again. This is not an essay. This is life.
And soon, it will betime to go. This is also going to speak to the end of a thought process. So why can’t I just sit up andwalk away from a situation much like I can sit up and walk away from this typewriter? Why cant’t we all just leave thepast behind? Is this my leason? I have reverted to type because I yearn for thepast? Just as I suspected. I am reverting to some thing old. Or are we all just lookingfor t e surffce behind thethings we do?
. My surface meaning:
Is located always, spcifically….at the end of the page. Andfrequently m ispelled.
I Do Not Know Anything OR This Is My Ugly Side Venting A Tad
Posted by identitykrysis in Rant on July 8, 2009
I must remind myself this every day. That I don’t actually know anything. I may have thought I knew something, at a moment, a long time ago… but that moment is gone and this moment tells me nothing of the truth.
Except the fact that now I suspect… that you were never anything I thought you might have been.
Because now I am slapped by the possibility that you are a disgusting person. With no morals and no values and no inkling of courage and personal honesty.
I have been lied to SO much. And everytime I find out another lie, another hypocritical piece of the puzzle, I am always so shocked and amazed. Because I always believe what someone tells me.
So I don’t know anything. Anything anyone tells me is grey. I will still listen and converse with you as if you were telling me the truth. But honestly? I am going to practice the art of disbelief.
The Atheism of Truth. (I’m still working the concept out)
Ugh. I’m still getting shivers from reality. Tiny slivers of space time, needling me repeatedly for my superfluous hope that you were something better.
But, I’m a hypocrite too. I don’t always see it. But I am. I make mistakes. I’ve lied. I’m not a nice person. I’m not exceptional in my morals and values. But I would still consider myself a kind person. Almost always well intentioned with a reasonable conscience. Still sadly, often naive.
The bad ugly side of me. The spiteful and angry side? That side will await you to make the biggest mistake of your life. I’ll have popcorn. I’ll enjoy it excessively. And then I’ll never think about you ever again.