correctiveshoes621

::giant screaming invisible hearts::

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THANK YOU. UH HUH. I KNOW.

GodDAMMIT!!!!!!!

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gayalithiel.livejournal.com

*is appropriately clueless*

*Hugs you*

♥ ♥ ♥

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svenny.livejournal.com

*Ditto*

:-)

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Thank you, mate.

*waits for Oz pictures*

..Sometimes, I just give up. I really do. :)

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svenny.livejournal.com

The pix are under construction. Visit my Flickr page!

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*Is appropriately nonchalant*

"Eyes to the back of the room!!!!"

Uh huh.

♥

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I just noticed your icon, and *ROFL*

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Uh huh. Thank you.

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BTW, at my request, my friend

messingabout made this icon for you!!

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I don't know what the cause of this is, but I understand this sort of crushing sadness/depression.

*HUGE HUGS*

I have no answers. But know that you're not alone, even though it feels like you are.

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Oh, trust me on this - I am.

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Are you quite sure?

I worry. :\

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I am. Alone on this, I mean.

And don't worry; it's really not worth it. You have seen what I do/what I write/what a mental/emotional bunker I build - and really? It all speaks for itself.

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Been there, done that. I do it more in my head, what I don't write down. If anything, I understand somewhat. Does that make sense?

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I know you do, and know that you mean to be helpful, and yes. It does make sense.

..but this is just fucked up. BY me. Period. The lines blur - and ALWAYS, just when I think I can handle stuff/am being logical and sane? I find out that - SHOCK - I can't and aint.

- and have the nerve to be surprised by it.

I fuck up and up and up and up and up. I think I can do something/be something - and am really not fooling anyone. Jeebus.

Fuck up and up and up and up and up - just not worthy of human companionship - hey! LIGHTBULB! THERE'S A REASON FOR IT, NO?

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What, you're supposed to be perfect? Jesus Christ, you're a survivor. And what you got out of it was your brain. Yeah, it sucks when it comes down to it, but I don't know what to say other than hon, you've got your kids and you have a job that drains you. When the hell do you have the time to do anything other than make up your own shit? Once again, I come to the conclusion that my friends should be within an hour's drive of me at ALL TIMES. But I know that's not quite what you're looking for.

I'm not yelling at you. Not at all. You've been through a shitload, and you'll continue to feel like you are going through a shitload, and you'll wonder when the fuck it'll end, and why the hell even try, but in the end? There is always tomorrow. It sounds like bullshit to say it, but it's true.

I suppose I sound like an asshole. I have a person that I'm with, that is close to me. Someone that clicks. But I almost didn't. I very nearly ended up dead and so did she, by our own situations that sounded eerily like yours, in different ways. She and I just got lucky--we ended up stuck together... but that's another story for another day.

Here, I'll sound like a tub of English-flavored cheese--don't give up. Please don't. You are worth of human companionship, I know this because ... in some fucked up way, I am, and if I am, well then...

Thing is, we get to the point where we've built up the walls and we protect ourselves and then we look up one day and we have no idea how to talk to people. If I were single today, I'd likely either stay single or I'd end up in yet another abusive relationship. That said, sometimes it's pure, stupid fucking fear. And that sucks most of all, especially if you know it and you have no idea what to do about it.

No, you aren't 'logical' or 'sane' by society's standards. But you know what? Tell society to fuck off. I know, easier said than done, but it's what I try to do with my life. I don't usually end up doing it, but I try...

You're in my thoughts, girl. Hang on, wait for something better to come along. You're worth it.

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Umm, it can be SHUT YER BLEEDIN CAKEHOLE TIEMZ NAO.

You are SO worthy. Very very very.

Don't make me kick your ass in the name of peace.

::fist::

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gayalithiel.livejournal.com

I can't believe you would think I know what you're referencing here, let alone the idea that I may have WILLFULLY flaunted something in front of you that I was aware would upset you. You'd think I'd have learned by now.

I suppose my repetative, insensitive and blatant thievery of your property is what you and Natalie talk about when I'm not around. Sometimes I still lose sight of the invisible boundaries I ought to know well at this point.

I won't speak of him again or post pictures of him again or allow him even a brief layover on the island in the future. Not at all worth it. I don't like him THAT much. He'll be as dead to me as Obama is to you. Will that make things better??

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*applause*

Very good. I guess you told me, huh? : )

I am trying to send you positive vibes re: this morning's interview festivities, but we can discuss this at length later, if you like. The reasons I felt it could not be brought up in any sort of sane manner - and panicked; and it WAS panic/that dream/lack of sleep that precipitated this - are really, a) you never seem to realize this sort of thing matters, because it's supposed to be all fun and games, and I should know that my toys should be shared - they're just toys, after all, right?, b) YES, I know..it *shouldn't* matter; at least as much as it does, and *should* be just fun and games, even though I am a mental/emotional cripple who is wholly UNABLE to share said toys, c) you always always fall back into dismissive socialworkerspeak and there's NO discussing it, at all, d) if it's brought up at all, it becomes another 'Oh, Indi's crazy' thing, e) apparently, it *IS* an 'Indi's crazy' thing because it DOES, in fact, matter. 'Round and 'round it goes. The snake eats its tail and I am in the middle of the imaginary coil of 'logic', so to speak - and I use the word, 'logic' very loosely, here.

And, no; you can ask Nat if we sit around talking about you when you're not here, if you like. You know better than that; come on. Her answers here, are based, really, on her knowledge of 'SWC' - BUT I will not lie and say it has never been brought up. By ME. NOT her. And that was ONLY because I was in an utter confused bind and felt I could not bring it up to you in any reasonable, non-pissing-you-off manner - and she was quite patient with it all, God bless her - As in the context of -"I know it shouldn't matter. What should I say/do? Should I say/do anything? Or just let it go and ride it out? Why does this keep happening? Is it a test? And WHY DO I EVEN CARE ABOUT SOMETHING SO SILLY AND IMAGINARY, IT'S SO STUPID AND INSANE?" And frankly, underlying it all?

"WTF is wrong with me, that it DOES matter? Why don't I have a REAL LIFE, WITH REAL PEOPLE IN IT?"

Not all of us have what you have to fall back on, liebe schoen, and I can only really speak for myself, here - but this makes me realize jussssst how huge a gaping hole I honestly have in both my life and myself. How self-serving and poisonously medicinal it's all become - *especially* the writing, which - on the surface, at least - HAS always helped me to sort stuff out. That, at least, was NEVER just "fun and games and whee! let's fuck", to me. It was always a tool - but now? Not sure wtf it is, now.

How many times (above) did I have to state that it makes no sense? I mean, it doesn't...

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You mean... there are real people out there? o.O

All my friends are make-believe. They always have been. The difference is that I found someone that does the same thing. :P

... which reminds me, whenever you're ready, I did post over at Manse. (yes, I know, I'm such a big help)

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I saw it, but a) had my head up someone's ass way to far to deal with anything but them, at the time, b) have no idea how to interact/respond.

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no worries, then. i'll respond with myself. ;)

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gayalithiel.livejournal.com

c) you always always fall back into dismissive socialworkerspeak and there's NO discussing it, at all

This made me laugh in spite of myself, because 'dismissive socialworkerspeak' should be an oxymoron. If I'm being dismissive, I'm not being a good social worker. Sorry if I do that.

d) if it's brought up at all, it becomes another 'Oh, Indi's crazy' thing

That must be YOUR perception, because I certainly never declare something is an 'Oh, Indi's crazy' thing.

The fact that I had no idea what you were talking about here certainly supports your theory that I never seem to realize this sort of thing matters. I actually thought I was playing within the boundaries and that I understood what was sacred and what was not. I was wrong. It might be best if you could make me a list of things I should never touch under any circumstances, along with a definition of 'touch'. I'm guessing that Simon falls in there somewhere too. And Robert? I'm sorry but I really can't quit Robert.

I am feeling right now that there is a huge disparity between our fantasy worlds and I'm not really sure what sorts of things to try to share with you. Since everything with me is "fun and games and whee! let's fuck", maybe my writing is actually really annoying to you and my comments even moreso. I do use my obsessions in a different way than you do but, for me, it's what I need. It may look totally frivilous on the outside but it does serve a purpose (making an often boring reality tolerable).

So I really don't know what the parameters are right now. If I watch TCR should I never mention it? Should I not talk about Simon's ass? I really have no idea and, for the moment, that leaves me with very little common ground to cover. If what I like is frivilous and what you like is sacred, what do we talk about? This is not an attempt at a guilt trip~ I really don't know the answer to that question. I would seriously do better if you set those parameters in a concrete way for me. I'm like a pony in a new pasture of electric fence- if you don't put little flags on all the wire, I'm gonna run into it and hurt myself. And you.

That analogy just amused me. And the kid is harrassing me to get over to the pony, so I must end this and talk with ya later.

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