dixy land

Yes yes yes. Wait, what? We keep trying to kid ourselves with these questions and observations!

I know you’re smart, but please stop trying to over-analyze all the details that aren’t there!

Don’t name your dog anything you can’t yell without losing any and all dignity you may have had. My neighbors named their dog Scooby Doo, and I don’t know if you’ve ever heard anyone repeatedly and angrily scream the words “scooby doo” unless you spend enough time walking around late-night bus stops in Chicago, but it’s not flattering, to say the least.

[Cross posted from my livejournal. Just wanted this on here]

I could stop and try to list every way in which my life has changed in the past year, or in the past six months alone. I could mention small changes in tiny details that no one else probably ever spends the time or energy needed to notice. Not this time, though. This time, instead of being unable to stop thinking about the past it is thoughts of the present, and of the future that just keep swirling and swirling around.

The more I think of excuses and explanations for my behavior, the more it angers me. I cannot blame the way in which my mother protected and sheltered me as a child for my inability to reach certain levels of independence today. I cannot blame my “personality type” or “the life I’ve lived, the things I’ve experienced” and much less the “way I was raised” for my insufferable fear of ‘growing up.’

What do I mean by this, growing up?

I mean being my own representative. I mean getting things done for myself and not hoping or expecting that someone else do them for me.
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Home? I miss the mountains the most. But these houses and these trees and these skies are comforting, too. The Midwest is absolutely beautiful. I’ve never enjoyed walks so much in my life! (and I have always enjoyed walks a LOT) It really helps to be with the right person, walking, swinging, stopping in the middle of the street and kissing. Wait, whoa. Let’s back up for a minute. This is life? This is really my life? One thing after the other, life seems to be getting better and better. I’m not so lost on this road anymore. And we’ll just keep on and on until we reach the sea. And then we’ll go swimming and let all the jellyfish bite us to pieces!

Small and blurry, SMALL and b l u r r y. It’s nice sometimes. We were quite far away though. The middle looks like something’ exploding (a life maybe?) The lights don’t look so desperate, in fact, almost peaceful. Peaceful. Yeah, that’s pretty much what this feels like lately.

This guy agrees! He’s the most interesting thing I met that night. But I’ve yet to give him a name.

Please don’t ever ask me to fill in the blank ever again. I’m far too good at it and hardly ever right. That’s three ever’s for those of you keeping count. Four now. So you know I mean it! And it’s about time you start taking me seriously. I could burn this whole place down, you know.

I hate the feeling of dread. I hate dread with or without the conjoined feeling. Dread is absolutely never a positive thing. Fear can save your life. Dread never will. Dread is a bit of a dick like that. Then there’s irrational dread. Just rational enough to stick around in the bottom of the pot. Especially since that cunt never cleans them. Were I a betting man, I’d bet that dread never occurs for her. Forks can almost always be used in place of knives and if they can’t then it’s probably not worth eating whatever that is — unless you’re absolutely starving. Hey. You’re not clairvoyant. Why’re you so Goddamn convinced of it.

It’s coming soon.

…very soon.