Escapism > feelings // Some days I'm built of metal, I can't be broken (but not when I'm with you)

Lay it, lay it down, let me see your hand;

show me what you got.

You're always talking, but you're not playing --

it doesn't match your face.

(Gotta find my way, away from this place)

Well hello there everything is JUST FINE THANK YOU now look what happened today it is things:

fffffffffffffff

Time for silly things that exist at the library? Ok.

Asking children the important questions.

I'm surprised my roommate still talks to me

Speaking of my roommate, we both agree that this looks fantastic (despite no subtitles on the trailer), and we're going to have to hunt it down somehow:

I think I've mentioned Dennou Coil here before, but it's good and hey look, some screenshots.

fffffffffffffff

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

I'm...I'm out. D:

Drinking in the summer, I'm good at running

I beat you in the race again

Are you afraid, when I look your way

It's easiest to stay at home

Where is the love, the kind we dream of

The kind that makes us young

Walk a little farther to another plan. / You said that you did, but you didn't understand.

Today yesterday I finally put in my two week notice at BN; according to EVERYONE I KNOW it is past time. I get it -- it's been seven (almost eight?!) years, which means seven years of holiday retail, no benefits, dwindling hours and increasing pressure -- but I'll still miss aspects of it. The breaking point was when my Receiving manager told me I'd have 30 days to get my shelving speed up to "standard" which is basically only possible if you stop caring about where things go or what the store actually looks like. Even a lot of other seasoned booksellers fudge their time (though I don't [sick of shelving shifts and no longer care!], hence the potential write up)-- and with the shelves getting packed with things for the holidays it's only getting worse. Not to mention the flimsy corrugated displays that now seem to block every aisle, impeding the path of a shelving cart that is already hard to maneuver and generally heavy enough to turn your toes into pulp and your back and shoulders into taut, crampy knots. You know what that behemoth does to displays if you don't stop or turn in time? It destroys them, losing you valuable book-shoving time. You need that book-shoving time! Or, they will reprimand you. I'm ssssSSSSSOOOOO DOOOOONNNNNEEEE

That's the good news. The bad news is I lost something nice with someone nice because I am a neurotic basket case and they are an apathetic jerk. My friends say I'm better off on that one, too, but it's been a difficult few days and all that shit seems to be taking off rather than subsiding; at first I was angry, but now the hurt really has its hooks in there like a motherfucker.

Ok, The Universe, I get it: the more I care about [whatever] the more [whatever] will not give a flying fuck about me. Please cease your very painful demonstrations of this law.



What aspects of BN will I miss? Seeing the new books on Tuesdays. 90% of my co-workers. Making the shelves pretty. Getting excited with customers who ask for the good shit. Doing extra stuff for customers who need books on difficult topics (the death & grieving books, stuff on mental illness, etc). Laughing with co-workers about awful or hilarious covers. Cheap caffeine! That feeling when you find a book no one else could find for someone who really needs it.

More I won't: customers who don't acknowledge you as human (on the phone, no eye contact, just saying a book name at you with no preamble whatsoever), customers who buy hateful stuff (who also generally fall into the previous category), Slowguy "Ask a Manager" McNohelp, Obsequiousairhead Von Kissass, customers who stop you when your arms are full and don't acknowledge it in any way, "it's cheaper on Amazon," people who think I can do anything about prices or shipping time, leaving my house by 6:00(walking)-6:30(biking) am, PUSHING THE MEMBER CARD,  holiday insanity, people getting pissed off when there aren't enough cashiers, that time I grabbed a book covered in snot, bathroom messes, screaming children.

TWO WEEKS MOTHERFUCKERS

My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth. 

My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth. 

My thoughts were so loud.

Oh what a waste

My brain chemistry appears to have crashed somethin' fierce today, and my human body feels gross and sore on top of that. I woke up freezing this morning even though it hasn't been cold, and that was weird but doesn't seem to have continued. I don't know; I called out sick from work, but I don't know how much of this is mental bullshit; I just know I am barely moving and my back and joints are shrieking like old lady banshees and everything feels weirdly distant and I feel like crap.

I'm drawing some things? The week has been odd in other ways as well, buttttttttt.....I don't feel like getting into the incidents in question. I feel like taking a nap, but I work at 7 tomorrow (read: getting up at 5:30) and I don't want to throw that off after missing today. G...ganbare? Blurgh.

I sleep in late

Another day

Oh what a wonder

Oh what a waste

Oh what a waste

I never did grow up --

feels like I never will;

my friends are all adults,

I'm still a teenage girl

I haven't changed a bit

I'm still not over it

I make the same mistakes

(I make the same mistakes)

Slipped into a cave one day

I never thought I'd leave that place

When I woke up the sky had fallen down

And, oh, what a waste

Ahoy, the blog! This week has been wild and expensive. I bought clothes for the first time in...at least six months (almost certainly longer) due to a desperate need for shoes that aren't falling apart. I found some, but they need to be broken in more as they are currently doing terrible things to my feet; ouch.
There was a wild bbq last night, hosted by my brother, the night before that there was similar craziness, and just...yeah, crazy. Been a crazy week. This weekend will probably continue that, since LIBRARY! COMIC-CON is tomorrow (though I work BN in the morning, so I'll probably only make it in for a few hours, if at all? ;n; ).

I'm pushing myself on a lot of projects, but I feel kind of futile about it. I keep messing up my lines. I HATE INKING SOMETIMES, ARRRGH. Then I feel like I should clean it up digitally to fix those little imperfections and I know that'll just take SO MUCH LONGER and I just want to toss the whole thing. Actually, I feel exasperated with a lot of stuff right now. Why even bother?

They canceled my shift this morning, but I got some decent cleaning done. I am SO CLOSE to getting this place livable. SO CLOSE!!!

There's no such thing as love

There's no such thing as God

There's no such thing as you

There's no such thing as us

And tell me, friends:

when I'm down, would you pick me up (my friends)?

My friends:

if everyone had rights,

would anything go wrong?

Would there ever be the need

for these politician songs?

The mystery that no one knows / where does love go when it goes? // Do you want to get understood?

You know I walk for days

I wanna waste some time

Do you

run when it's just getting good?

Or do you, do you, do you, do you... 

Deviations

So last night there was drinking and and my bear friend helped me watch Troo Beartective. Did we have a good time? Yes. FRONK WHY

gotobedyouaretoodrunk

And when the gas runs out, just wreck it; you insured the thing

Guhhh; I'm editing redbubble stuff and it's like pulling teeth. My AMAZING ROOMMATE/blood coven timestream sistriss of the dark arts is wielding her powerful kitchen magics and the house smells fucking amazing. I have been drawing things? For....plaaaaannnns maybe???

It's been a weird week. At work today a guy was having some trouble respecting my personal space -- standing very close to me even if I stepped away a bit, that kind of thing. At one point his hand kind of bumped into my ass a little, which could have been (and hopefully was) accidental (it was crowded in the store, I stopped somewhat abruptly and he was following me very closely) -- but then he was kind of...staring at my shirt intensely at one point when I was looking something up for him. So that was weird.
OH, AND ON MONDAY SOME OTHER WEIRD STUFF HAPPENED, but unfortunately that is a longer story. Tuesday was also crazy in strange ways? I'm just gonna reiterate my first statement again ok.

They cut my shift at work tomorrow (only 4 hours). I'm going to finish sorting through the mess of old papers and junk that has devoured my floor. In the meantime DRAWBOT CONTINUES TO DRAW BEEP BOOP BEEP



Her lonely boat fated to float aimlessly
midstream, weary with sadness, drifting.

Her hold overflowing with duty and feeling,
bow rocked by storms, adrift and wandering.

She rows on, not caring who tries to dock,
sails on, not caring who tries the rapids.

Whoever comes on board is pleased
as she plucks her guitar, sad and drifting.

Familiar feels

Going through a lot of past stuff the last few days -- old journals/photos/sketchbooks/the like. It's weird to see how much one can change in just a few years, and equally strange to think about where I could be a few years from now given the scale of those past changes.

Been pretty down today, those snippy little critics in my head throwing all the rocks they can while I try to go about things. Have I really made it very far? Even in my old journals, letters, I always...seemed to feel I was making some sort of progress towards a peaceful mental summit -- but where I'm at right now it all feels very Sisyphean. Why climb if you're just going to be climbing forever? Why keep trying to love if it's just going to slip through your fingers every time you think you've got something worth hanging on to? (Especially when that's hard enough to find as it is)

*sigh* ok, enough mopery. Those little assholes telling me no one will ever really love me can shove it for awhile while I do some chores. Sorry for the piles of stupid angst, friends.

The elements song

I went to burn my city down
torch it all, and just
skip town
my heart's campaign became a rout
said pack your shit
and just get out


I felt a wind upon me
it said run run run
I heard a sound around me
for the thunderhead had found me
those chains of rain were bound to drown
the sun sun sun


I turned love's soil
full furrow
cut my spade into the burrow
lonely bones lay long forgotten
earthly fruits
all ripely rotten


I felt a wind upon me
it said run run run
I heard a sound around me
for the thunderhead had found me
those chains of rain were bound to drown
the sun sun sun


I killed a fire with water
lo, I led it to the slaughter
I said Odin, I'm your daughter, but
my god

why even bother

On this street, where the light is overflowing, there's always one shadow

Got a lighter in my hand, I've got

a pocket full of contraband;

feel like I'm running in the sand to stay in place -- let's face it:

I'm not cut out for this at all.

Never was much good for the long haul.

There will be snacks

Look, blog: it has been quite a week. The weekend before last was QUITE A WEEKEND. I'm not going to talk to you about how language can never truly convey experience of the multi-faceted, infinitely complex and dense reality we exist in, but I am going to bail on a recap of aforementioned week/weekend and instead post pretty pictures.

 

(MY ROOMMATES WENT TO PORTLAND AND GOT SNAAAACKS)

excuse me plz where can I locate this book

no

"Running away from her sheltered life, Maggie Jones wants to start fresh. Instead, she finds trouble in Paradise, Colorado. Within days she's on the radar of fire chief Jake MacLaughlin. And when her family starts to play matchmaker, Maggie's plans for a quiet life are turned upside down. Though he's the small town's most eligible bachelor, Jake is far from a playboy. The widower isn't interested in dating. But when Maggie transforms from mousy to magnificent, and suitors start lining up, the fireman can't resist a rescue. Pretending to be a couple rekindles their spark for life…and for love"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I just want you to... take a real good look at this, ok

Your mommy IS A BEAR

This is just some nightmare fuel right here

It's lupus

...she's got red lipstick

& a bright pair of shoes

& she's got knee high socks (what, to cover a bruise)

she's got an old death kit she's been meaning to use, she's got

blood in her eyes, in her eyes for you; she's got blood

in her eyes for you

look i am sorry about my bad poetry ok

Sing // Gratitude

I sing I sing
I'm the luckiest little thing
to have
such beautiful creatures who love me
to love me
You you you
fever dream come true wanna
hold hands build lands
fight for what the heart demands
No one gets to live for long but
clumsy notes stumbled chords jumbled
melody or harmony -- lover, lover
sweet and strong:
bring that beat
I'll sing
your song

There's no court for our case // I'm a machine without a switch // In pursuit of lucid dreams

I've

been awake

to see the day

devour the night;

I've

seen decay

give way to growth and make the most

of nearly nothing

 

 

  

Don't call me down

But you can meet me where I land

if we're all matter, what's it matter; does it matter if we're matter when we're done?

Hello ducklings -- it is the day of my birth and it has been quite A Thing. Let's move on from that to something I wrote the other day but didn't get around to posting. Clink! Clink.

We had survived to turn on the History Channel

and ask our esteemed panel

"why are we alive?"

And here's how they replied:

"you're what happens when two substances collide --

and by all accounts, you really should have died."

"... The great boon of repression is that is makes it possible to live decisively in an overwhelmingly miraculous and incomprehensible world, a world so full of beauty, majesty, and terror that if animals perceived it at all they would be paralyzed to act. 

But nature has protected the lower animal by endowing them with instincts. An instinct is a programmed perception that calls into play a programmed reaction. It is very simple. Animals are not moved by what they cannot react to. They live in a tiny world, a sliver of reality, one neuro-chemical program that keeps them walking behind their nose and shuts out everything else. But look at man, the impossible creature! Here nature seems to have thrown caution to the winds along with the programmed instincts. She created an animal completely open to experience. Not only in front of his nose, in his umwelt, but in many other umwelten. He can relate not only to animals his own species, but in some ways to all other species. He can contemplate not only what is edible for him, but everything that grows. He not only lives in the moment, but expands his inner self to yesterday, his curiosity to centuries ago, his fears to five billion years from now when the sun will cool, his hopes to an eternity from now. He lives not only on a tiny territory, nor even on an entire planet, but in a galaxy, in a universe, and in dimensions beyond visible universes. It is appalling, the burden that man bears, the experiential burden. As we saw in the last chapter, man can't even take his own body for granted as can other animals. It is not just hind feet, a tail that he drags, that are just "there," limbs to be used and taken for granted or chewed off when caught in a trap and when they give pain and prevent movement. Man's body is a problem to him that has to be explained. Not only his body is strange, but also its inner landscape, the memories and dreams. Man's very insides--his self--are foreign to him. He doesn't know who he is, why he was born, what he is doing on the planet, what he is supposed to do, what he can expect. His own existence is incomprehensible to him, a miracle just like the rest of creation, closer to him, right near his pounding heart, but for that reason all the more strange."

This is a DAMN FINE read so far, though I may have been biased right from the beginning. As soon as I picked it up and read the back I felt like I'd found someone who had managed to put into (very eloquent) terms just... a bunch of crap that had been bouncing around in my head for awhile, but which I had no way of properly framing because sometimes I not the words good. I just... I feel like I get this book on a very visceral level -- in some ways I feel like I've been mentally dissecting culture with this "ego/denial of death" thing for awhile. I mean... I pick stuff apart a lot. I'm probably not someone you want to see a movie with because I'll pull out of suspension of disbelief a lot just to make fun of it -- but I feel like all of that is just my reaction to what I perceive as the writer's/s' intent, or their...assertion of ego via assumptions they make about culture, be they unconscious or intentional -- and those assumptions have felt, to me, as though they all have this reaction to death at the root because they have to, even when it's completely unintentional or has nothing to do with the subject matter in any way. It's just there, and it's so amazing to be able to mentally wave this book around yelling "HEY LOOK THIS GUY GETS IT."
So read this, is what I'm saying. This is honestly something I would jam into any and every human's brain if I could. Let me jam it into yours, dear...roughly three people that read this blog! Yeah, you heard me. Let me jam it in. >O<
fufufu