Spixdon's Xanga

One Song Glory

Fri, 28 Sep 2007 14:08:56 GMT

"Love You To" - The Beatles (even though Ringo was the only Beatle other than Harrison to play on this, and he only played a tamborine, so yay for George)

Each day just goes so fast
I turn around - it's past
You don't time to hang a sign on me

Love me while you can
before I'm dead old man

A lifetime is so short
A new one can't be bought
And what you've got means such a lot to me

Make love all day long
Make love singing songs

There's people standing round
Who screw you in the ground
They'll fill your head with all the things you see

I'll make love to you
If you want me too

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Thu, 20 Sep 2007 14:50:39 GMT

Everyone here is stuck in the past. Old relationships, hometowns, and hangups. And I'm so utterly not, and I don't know how to deal with that.

I keep my hang-ups internal, and I have very few attachments to home. I almost feel like an outsider because of that. I have come to college and started life anew and no one else has. What's that about? I almost wish that I had made more friends in high-school just so I could be more homesick and bond with people over that. I miss the feeling of missing home more than I miss home. Sleep? Also missed. But I miss not having to explain myself more. Though it is nice to have a chance to reinvent myself. My past? doesn't matter. I only wish that others could let go of theirs as easily.

Bastard Coated Bastards with Bastard Filling

Wed, 19 Sep 2007 05:11:12 GMT

I really want to hate you right now. But I can't. I can hate the way that you always turn it around, how you complement me and then I end up comforting you. I end up explaining away all of your flaws, and then what am I left with? you always make it so I can't help but comfort. That's my flaw, I guess. I want to say never again, but I know that that isn't going to happen. I'm a pushover. I'm never going to be the girl that will speak up when it's awkward or refuse to do something because it's .... I don't know. I can't speak up, I can't articulate. I need someone to talk to, but when I get to that person, I can't put things into words. I can't make heads or tails of the mass of things I'm feeling. I worry, because more often then not I feel numb instead of pain. And though that sounds great, I can't help but sense that sometimes it would be better if I could feel the negative in order to feel the positive. I'm not in for the head games. I am straightforward. I don't play games. I really don't. all of my shit is internal, but i don't act on it. for me, any type of relationship, be it friendship or otherwise, hell if it's life, entails playing a part. You get good enough at acting, and you start to even fool yourself. but it is acting, nonetheless. And yes, some people slip up. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I don't. My acting is resolute. I keep it together. That's all life is. Hiding the things that we need to keep hiding and letting people in on the more innocuous details. And I am good with that. And good at that. I think I learned somthings though. My past? all identifying details? needs to be kept hidden. I know, I know. If you can't be with someone and not be who you are than it isn't worth it. But you know what? I would rather have to change the act and not be lonely than to be alone. I would rather have someone like the act I am putting on, appreciate the person who I am pretending to be, than to hurt the person I actually am. It's all bullshit though. People are who they are. The only trick is to not get caught. When you get good at pretending, the act becomes who you are. I have lost track of all the people I am now. They all blend into eachother and I can't remember who I am anymore, and I think that is safer. Life is moments. A series of events that blend into eachother and you fight your way through. The only sure thing in this world is our own inevitable death. I don't go seeking my death. There are times when, yes, i wouldn't mind for it to happen, but that misses the mark. There is a difference between not fearing death and activly looking for it. I worry that television is becoming more real to me than actual life. I guess that my problem is exactly the thing that saves me day after day. I act. and I assume that everyone else does too. I assume that people are inherently good. And they aren't. They really are not. I harbour this view of the world which doesn't fall in with it's actions. The people in tv are just so much easier to figure out. They are just like real people, but so much easier to understand. I can't analyze too much (at least not in the tv I watch). And I don't want to stop striving to understand this world, because the more I know, the more it changes and I want to see how it ends.

Bottom line is, Be quick to be friendly, slow to be trusting.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Wed, 04 Jul 2007 06:47:01 GMT

Once again, I cannot sleep. And once again, I am alone. It's always more fun to be awake with someone else then it is to be awake alone.... I'm ready for college to start and for me to meet more people. I love you guys, but I think I need diversity. I always end up hanging with the same people....Okay, the same person. And I think she's getting tired of my idiosyncrasies and having to explain them to people. Sorry about that! I think I need the opportunity to not sleep, and maybe sleep, with more people. The pool has started to get a little stagnant, and the banks are closing in. I don't want to leave the pond, I just want to expand it. Maybe put in a connective babbling brook or something of the like. And I think this metaphor just fell on it's ass.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Sun, 24 Jun 2007 04:08:05 GMT

Your Quirk Factor: 76%

You're so quirky, it's hard for you to tell the difference between quirky and normal.
No doubt about it, there's little about you that's "normal" or "average."

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Sat, 02 Jun 2007 01:51:45 GMT

And indeed, the Barn-acle and I were right. Relationships are like highways. The three week exit is here to stay. I wonder if there is really a highway after that?

This is the first breakup that I am actually dreading. It hasn't happened yet, but it is only a matter of time. This really and truly sucks. I guess it will be good because I won't be waiting around anymore, but it is going to leave me really lonely for the rest of the summer. Everybody is off doing something, off starting their lives. And me? I'm waiting for the curtain to fall on this act of my life. Not even the curtain to fall, but the lights to flash and signal the end of intermission.

In this moment, I am more scared than I have ever been. Not because this particular relationship didn't work out, but because of what this end symbolizes. This was the first one that has actually meant something to me and I couldn't make it work. Not that I couldn't make it work, I didn't do anything wrong, but because of timing. I don't want to be three-week girl for the rest of my life. I don't want to be alone anymore. But I am so scared that that is how it is going to be. I'm going off to college soon and I won't know anybody there. On one hand, it will be nice to be able to reinvent myself, but on the other? I'm not going to know anyone. My support system will be gone. It is already so frail to begin with that I am not sure how I will manage without anything in place. I guess that this is the beginning. I am not going to make any friends. I am not saying this as a whiney teenager, more as an introspective adult. I know who I am and how I react to new situations. This coming year is going to be very, very lonely. I guess this summer will be good training. I am so very, very lonely already.

I am surrounded by people, each more vapid than the last. None of them seem to be able to fill this void. But that's not right. I shouldn't rely on them for anything. I should depend on myself. But there is only so much I can do to hug myself. I participate is self-destructive behavior, only partly because it is the only thing I can control. I do this because of my need for attention. I want people to look up one day and realize who I am, what I have become. I drink too much, I smoke too much, I am secluded too much, I am quiet too much. I don't want to be like this anymore. I want to be the happy face that I present to the world, but I fear that I have already done too much damage. I am too insular. I feel like I lift right out. And more and more that is being shown to me.

I'm not blaming anyone, I'm not even really complaining. I am simply stating facts. I think that is one of the reasons that I am actually looking forward to college. Maybe this lack of a support system will turn out to be a good thing. That way? I can destruct quietly. I won't feel like I need attention, because I won't have anyone who has given me attention in the past. I can disappear wholly and completely.

I am just so Goddamned lonely right now. I can't wait for my need for attention to be eradicated.

So Here I Am. On The Raggedy Edge. Don't Push Me, And I Won't Push You.

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Sat, 26 May 2007 17:37:27 GMT

Gray, quiet and tired and mean
Picking at a worried seam
I try to make you mad at me over the phone
Red eyes and fire and signs
I’m taken by a nursery rhyme
I want to make a ray of sunshine and never leave home

No amount of coffee, no amount of crying
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine
No, nothing else will do
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you

The road gets cold
There’s no spring in the middle this year
I’m the new chicken clucking open hearts and ears
Oh, such a prima donna, sorry for myself
But green, it is also summer
And I won’t be warm till I’m lying in your arms

I see it all through a telescope:
Guitar, suitcase, and a warm coat
Lying in the back of the blue boat
Humming a tune...

"Ted? Falafel." And I think our exit is coming up.

Monday, April 30, 2007

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 22:52:36 GMT

And once again, i choose to forgo any original content in exchange for posting one of my very favorite articles from the onion.

Would You Care To Join Me For An Unbelievably Awkward Dinner Sometime?

March 5, 2003 | Issue 39•08

Hey, Julie, it's Mike Toomey. You remember me, right? We met at Kevin's party last weekend. That was some party, wasn't it? I had a really great time. And it was definitely cool talking to you. Anyway, I know this may seem a little out of the blue, but I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in joining me for an unbelievably awkward dinner sometime.

If you're game, I could call you this week to make arrangements. I'll spend a few minutes nervously rehashing this conversation before suggesting a not-very-good restaurant. Then I'll establish our lack of chemistry with several minutes of conversation-extending small talk that feels forced and strangely businesslike.

Your fears about me will be confirmed when I arrive for our date. Even though we'll decide in our brief, halting phone conversation to keep things casual, I'll show up with a dozen long-stem roses and be oddly overdressed. I'll comment on your outfit, calling it "slimming" or "flattering" or some other compliment that comes off like an insult. How does that sound for an inauspicious start to the evening?

We'll then embark on the interminable ride to the restaurant. Trying to break up the long, painful stretches of silence, I'll ask you a series of forced questions, such as what you look for in a guy and how long your longest relationship was. Fearful that you find me boring, I'll try to spice things up by asking you to name the craziest place you've ever done it. And I will actually refer to sex as "doing it," which will turn you off immeasurably.

At the restaurant, the discomfort will deepen. Our only relief will come from the all-too-infrequent interruptions by our waiter delivering more breadsticks. When the house fiddler comes to our table, I will make the ill-advised decision to slip him $5 to play "Moon River," thinking it might somehow create instant romance. While he plays, you'll stare down at your plate and fidget with your silverware until the song is done, trying to avoid any eye contact with me, lest I think my clumsy attempt to woo you has been a success.

As the evening progresses, the conversation will become more and more stilted. I will talk about TV shows and movies in which you have no interest. We will desperately cling to Kevin as a topic of conversation, since he is our only mutual friend. All the while, we will both be painfully aware that we are using Kevin as a conversational life raft.

After deciding to skip dessert, I will drive you home. After pulling into your driveway, I will turn off the engine and say, "Well, I had a nice time." For an agonizingly long moment, I will just sit there as you tremble in fear that I am summoning the courage to go for a goodnight kiss rather than a hug. I will kiss you on your cheek, but close enough to your mouth that you will turn your head to ensure that there is no contact between our mouths. I will then say, "Well, maybe we can do this again." You will reply "Maybe," trying as politely as possible to make it clear that you have no interest in ever seeing me again.

So, are you free Saturday? I know this great Italian place, not too expensive.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Sat, 28 Apr 2007 02:33:18 GMT

As of tonight, I'm officially done with speech. I don't know how to feel about that yet. Ask me in a few days.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Wed, 25 Apr 2007 03:10:22 GMT

"Do you have any experience with an espresso machine?"
"I was in a concentration camp once."
"...Great. Can you start on Thursday?"