Sundeysundeysundey! Sundai. Sundaes mmm.

Tonight I feel:

-perplexed.
-incomplete.
- irritable.

With a period after each one, just to stick it to the man. Rara. I just came back from Seeing Little War with Brotherbear. It was absolutely divine. Lw sat with us, held my hand the whole time. I wish I knew more about he and The Her. Nah, I don't wish that at all. More than anything I just don't understand. But I shouldn't be complaining, its not like I'll ever ask the questions to find out the truth, thats for damn sure. I used to be the queen of all questioning. Queen Questioner. Now, I find more often than not, in those times where you know whats coming isn't going to be pretty, I just don't ask. I'd actually rather not know. Sometimes, I really think questions are a bad thing. And sometimes, you'll never understand anyway.

I think Brotherbear had a good time. He seems rather chipper. Chipper is the wrong word, but someone without an incredibly intelligent and cynical view of the world would be chipper.

The Her was supposed to come see the matinee of Little War. I just realized Little War and Little Wolf have the same initials, but are two different things. Well, maybe not so different after all. Almost the very same. Anyway, she was supposed to, but didn't. I didn't see her at the one I went to either. She told him she was sorry. He asked about her, his housemates said she was doing homework. Its an hour long show. I think he was a little hurt, but thats just me assuming. Besides no one knows how they work, right? Right. I've seen it twice. Irkenergs and James want me to come over to see their Christmas surprise. I'm kind of excited, I really want to see it. I've never been upstairs at their house before, it almost feels like it'll never be time for me to go up there. Again, what once used to be burning curiosity is now wary and treads lightly, if at all. Everyone seems happy with me being there, genuinely happy. But I can feel they are also worrying. I don't think worry if the right word. Wondering. Wondering is definitely the right word.

Lw walked into my kitchen last night before I was ready, and it was as if, all our blacked out windows had been cleaned, and opened again to let in the fresh air. We were so happy. Merry even. Johnny B came along with us to Bistro, and we had a grand ol' time. The night was nothing special, just another Saturday. But I was carefree. I felt like skipping. And this morning was beautiful. I feel secure, even though this situation is full to the barrels with gunpowder. I feel like we're waltzing in slow motion, trying to forget that the explosion is going to happen. At peace, oblivious to the mess around us. And its working.

My rage has been lulled into sleep, but it is not lost. I fear for the astounding reverberations that will bounce off the walls. I don't want to be shaken.

But for now, I'll just keep dancing, and swirling around this absolutely gorgeous



lie.

Unobtainable me.

He walked down a busy street
Staring solely at his feet
Clutching pictures of past lovers at his side
Stood at the table where she sat
And removed his hat
In respect of her presence
Presents her with the pictures and says
These are just ghosts that broke my heart before I met you.
These are just ghosts that broke my heart before I met you

Opened up his little heart
Unlocked the lock that kept it dark
And read a written warning
Saying I'm still mourning
Over ghosts
Over ghosts
Over ghosts
Over ghosts that broke my heart before I met you

Lover, please do not
Fall to your knees
Its not
Like I believe in
Everlasting love.

Hah. I wonder when things got this complex. I want so badly to go back to being a kid. If I had the money, or the means, I would leave this place. Leave this world. Without a word. You all seem to think you're going my way, I don't think so. I like this life. But I hate knowing everyone. I hate having feelings. Sometimes I wonder if I have any shred of hope left in what I wanted most. I feel so stupid for wanting it. Everyone who is "in love" is suffering. And yeah yeah, I heard that its a part of life. But I wish it wasn't. And I feel like it doesn't have to be.

Lw asked me a couple weeks ago if I missed Christopher. I said "Sometimes." And its the truth. Christopher and I made a discovery that I haven't finished brushing off until now. You can love someone so much, and have it hurt even more, and have it never go away. We don't talk because we're still feeling the repercussions of something that happened almost a year ago. Almost two years ago if you count when we really started to fall. Jesus, has it been two years? Its an emotion you cannot deny. He moved clear across the country. To try and escape it. And he didn't. I don't think I'd ever want to see him again for an extended period of time. A couple hours would be enough.

But lets flip the subject over shall we? Lw and I have reconciled. Again. Motherfucker, how many times will this happen? In the end its all the same. I'll leave, and he'll be upset and try and keep me around. But nothing is going to change. Its really all too bad. But isn't everything? And it really irked me that he thought I wanted forever. Like, fuck man, did that word ever come out of my mouth? NO. You can't put a price on a good time, and in this case, the price is time. So you can't put a time on a good time! Goddammit.

If you want.

You can't have everyone.
But you can have them.
You can't be mine.
But you can wish you were with me.
If you want.

I woke up laughing.
And I wished you here laughing too.
We can't fuck,
But we can read out loud.
If you want.

I'm an idiot. Where's my beer.

Sorry captain, but I think I'm gonna walk the plank.

I'd rather be alone and missing you, than with you and hurt.

I know you think its innocent, but I refuse to let you have everything you want, when no one else can.

I will bow low, and bid you farewell good sir, for surely this will make what you have to work out, a little easier on everyone.


I'll miss you terribly,

Love Amy xoxo

Row row row your boat, gently down the stream

Merrily
Merrily
Merrily
Merrily
Life is but a dream

Yyyyyyyyyuck. I feel just atrocious. I have definitely remembered why my first instinct is usually the better of the thousands of ideas that bounce off the inside of my head. But whoops, epic fail Amy. Whatever, I just feel sheepish I guess. BaAaAaAa.

I couldn't sleep last night, I started reciting nursery rhymes, and it just smoothed over everything like peanut butter. Which is good! So I sent a text to Little Wolf with Row your boat in it, I don't think it had quite the same effect, but it must have been nice to hear something from me that wasn't solemn and cross.

I am going to clean my room when I get home, its grossssss. And when I'm finished that, laundry. And when I'm finished laundry I'M GOING TO THE ROM. I'll even go alone, I just want to get out to do something nerdy. Maybe even the science centre. And I'm going to go to the AGO on wednesday when its free.

I can't wait to work more, I want to get my tattoo if I'm not doing anything for Christmas. It really terrifies me, hopefully someone will be home.

I'm going to make some toast and peanut butter. And pee. I need to pee. And find some watercolors.

Goodbye sad world, I got in my dirigible, cranked the nursery rhymes and sailed back home. I'll come visit, maybe later.

I want a tire swing in my room.

Even when I know what a word means, dictionary dot com broadens my horizons.

Burial

To see a burial in your dream, signifies that you have gotten rid of your bad habits or freed yourself from a negative situation. You are finally letting go of something.

To dream that you are burying a living person, signifies emotional turmoil. Alternatively, it suggests that you are being buried by problems and stresses of your waking life.

To dream that you are being buried alive, suggests that you are being undermined or stifled in some way. meanings by DreamMoods.com

un⋅der⋅mine
  /ˌʌndərˈmaɪn or, especially for 1, 2, 4, ˈʌndərˌmaɪn/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [uhn-der-mahyn or, especially for 1, 2, 4, uhn-der-mahyn] Show IPA
Use undermined in a Sentence
See web results for undermined
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–verb (used with object), -mined, -min⋅ing.
1. to injure or destroy by insidious activity or imperceptible stages, sometimes tending toward a sudden dramatic effect.
2. to attack by indirect, secret, or underhand means; attempt to subvert by stealth.
3. to make an excavation under; dig or tunnel beneath, as a military stronghold.
4. to weaken or cause to collapse by removing underlying support, as by digging away or eroding the foundation.

sti⋅fle
1  /ˈstaɪfəl/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [stahy-fuhl] Show IPA verb, -fled, -fling.
Use stifled in a Sentence
See web results for stifled
See images of stifled
–verb (used with object)
1. to quell, crush, or end by force: to stifle a revolt; to stifle free expression.
2. to suppress, curb, or withhold: to stifle a yawn.
3. to kill by impeding respiration; smother.
–verb (used without object)
4. to suffer from difficulty in breathing, as in a close atmosphere.
5. to become stifled or suffocated.

I was going to create a new blog,

but I'm tired of hiding. This is MY space. And if someone doesn't like what they read here, sorry. Don't read it. I already had to get rid of my livejournal a long time ago just to protect someone's feelings that I don't even care about anymore. This could be argued by the general public, but I really care about people a lot more than I let on.

This was all so simple a week ago. Well, not really. But I'm sure we'd all like to believe it was. Its funny how there's something about everyone that irks you, no matter how much you care about them. I shouldn't even be complaining. Romanticism is corrupt. Romantic love is a mindfuck. And no matter how much I hate feeling this way because it makes me vulnerable, it will always be what I want. I am revolted by the way I can function. I feel just as much as I used to, but its easy for me to keep my mouth closed. I'm sure you'd argue, but I'm alot better at swallowing fire than you'd think. This is my fault, honestly. It was malice (Ebbsebbsebbs) and selfishness that had me hand you matches. It had to be done, thats for damn sure. But who am I to decide?

I told you everything was fine. But I gave you the tools to make a sound so deafening that some are struggling to hear again. So who am I to be upset, like a toddler who can't get their own way. Maybe you'll thank me one day. I can't believe I just typed that out. Maybe scratch that.

I feel like anything would make me tremble sometimes. A touch, or a smile. Or just the feeling of being looked at and admired. At the same time, I've left my phone in the other room, and I have my headphones in. I don't want to hear it, I don't want to look at it, or notice the time between when you left and when I'll hear from you again. I feel like an idiot telling you things like this, mostly because I don't think you could hear it right now. I helped you burn this down. And I've been starting fires to light your way.

Are we kidding ourselves?

Probably. Onward then! To the bitter end.