3

its' in my head. a storm. clouds billowing out and lightening streaking through the sky. I want to touch the lightening. I want to throw the bolts. I want to watch the earth open up and drink deep the water from above.
I feel alive when it rains. I breathe easy.


I got another rat. He's hairless. I like his personality. I"m lonely this week. Really lonely. Leo went on vacation and I told him to take Midge (our older dog) with him. I wanted him to go - but it's the first time in awhile that I've looked at our time together and started to really worry that he's marrying me becasue he could possibly think he can't find anyone else to love him. I mean, it already seems sometimes like he likes his friends more than me.

i called in late to work today, claiming I had a flat tire - but it was a lie. A bold faced lie. Horrible, really - I was just absolutely exhausted. I sleep so deeply that it doesn't really feel like I sleep at all when Leo isn't here.

sometimes I feel so despairing about the negativity in the world. I see so many people walking around angry and upset and sad and tormented. I cant help them and that sucks.

i'm too scattered to do this tonight.

2

I want to live closer to you.
I hate living so far away.
I want to be able to get home from work, take care of my animals and then sneak over to see my goddaughter and have cookies - or make dinner with you.
I feel like I bring chaos to your life.
where you are solid and grounded I am flighty and unexpected.
I miss you so terribly sometimes I feel like I'll never see you again -
I want things the way they were so long ago and yet I know I love the changes we've been through together.


Movement. i move my toes sometimes and dance with them. not with them -- using them. the rhythm moving through the bones in my feet. its like my legs are fireworks waiting to explode with dance. and i'm sitting on this giant grenade, wondering when I'll blow.

I cried last night because of the negativity of people. my boss got mad because I gave a kitten I found to a coworker who is also overloaded...
its the first time i've pretty much ever done that. but i need a break.
i love these fosters but they need to go and they're not growing fast enough for me to get them out in a safe amount of time. and each and every day they are here drops me one day further away from having actual free time to think and to breathe and to MOVE.
i came dangerously close to cutting last night. and the interaction (or lack thereof, as the information that I was given was second hand and not directly from her) between my boss and I - pushed me there. I kept screaming in my head I JUST WANT A FUCKING BREAK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. A FUCKING BREAK. I DO EVERYTHING FOR THIS ORGANIZATION. I PUT HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS EVERY SINGLE MONTH INTO THIS JOB. I STAY LONG HOURS AND DO WORK NO ONE ELSE BOTHERS TO DO. I WANT A FUCKING GODDAMNED BREAK. and then i second guessed myself and told myself I was stupid for wanting a break because i do not deserve one.
It's like i'm getting stronger but that fucking kicking midget gets me every single goddamned time.
i KNOW what i need. and every single second i get a tiny bit closer to understanding what i want... or what i may want.... and then he comes after me. finger wagging, pushing me, shoving me back into the hole i had grappled to escape from moments before. you dont deserve it. work harder. harder. harder. harder.

i am starting to rip myself from the grasp of negativity - granted, the kicking midget doesn't help - but as far as friends and loved ones go -- I don't have much tolerance anymore for lack of kindness. I even feel bad when I get road rage - i need more positivity - and less negativity - because thats the only way i'm going to get through this.

i cried last night - really cried... for the first time in forever.
I dont know whats going on with these meds. im tired - but then i started smoking and upping my caffeine intake in the AM and it seemed to get better.
i need to actually get moving.

my first attempt at free writing - getting it all out there...

i used to love my feet but now they ache. I still catch myself pushing up onto my toes and stretching my arches; when i have socks on i'll attempt a pirouette - i used to jump high and fast, loving the way my legs would slice through the air. the thwack of my strong thighs hitting together at the barre. there was purpose in it. a combination and you were off. cause. effect. live piano always trumped old records, but either would do. there was control. there was lines. metronome. persistent and unmoving. now pointing my toes hurts. the last class i went to i nearly had a heart attack. my heart feels heavy that i cant move like i used to. purpose. you go to a class and you perform what they ask and you slice through the aira nd the music takes you and it all makes sense. nohting else matters. now i worry how my gut will hang over my tights when i stand in front of the mirror, barre behind me. now i cringe at the thought of my breasts flopping this way and that when i jump. i dont fly anymore. i sink. i fall. i am heavy in mind. the terms ring bells, but i need someone to execute them for me as a refresher. i am old. my knees creak, years of dislocation aged them far beyond my 28. i f i were to attempt a larger jump i shudder at the thought of dislocating my left on yet again. the fat on my arms jiggles as i raise them into high fifth. first position, my thighs push my feet apart. i cannot even attempt fifth positiion anymore. i was good at that. i was good and small and fast. i had potential. then puberty hit and robbed me of my purpose. i had to find a new one. my calfs are twice the size they were. now covered in old scars - scars i cherish, but scars nonetheless. one has a tattoo commemorating a memory of an old friend - that isn't even human. further up along my legs the scars from years of cutting reside under the two tatoos i got, rather stupidly when i was a bit younger. both cats. different kinds on each side of the tops of my thighs.
under the orange cat the scar reads: DUMB. I carved it there with a razor not too long ago. under the black cat it had read UGLY, but the amount of scars since that carving has covered it up - . stretch marks.
right above my pubic hair the scar reads: FAT
carved it when I immortalized "DUMB and UGLY" on my legs.
it was a rough night.
my bulging stomach hangs over my underwear
and my bulging breasts hang half way down my torso.
i am a mess.
even my nipple rings are unimpressive - the left one is purple and the right one is usually infected, but not so much that i need antibiotics - just enough that if I took it out it would get worse. even my tits hate me.
my hair is tye dye pink and my eyes are brown.
my finger s are small and my hands are too. the pads on my fingers are usually red and bleeding, as I have a tendancy to bite and pick at them constantly. my fingersnails have the remnants of the last time i polished them.
i suck my thumb.
i twirl my hair.
i do it because it calms me.
i smoke socially - and sometimes alone - but manage to never let on to this while around ppl i know. my coworkers recently found out and i felt as if i had betrayed myself.
i drink. too much. sometimes to the point where i black out.
i suppose the blacking out is accomapniesd by or helped out by the prozac. 80mg per day that i take. i must take it at night because otherwise im comatose.
i hate it.
the cutting has stopped. but i still don't have much self worth.
i dont want to walk into traffic or overdose, but i feel lazy and tired.
i am tired.
i have not had a vacation in years; because i foster animals and do not feel that anyone else should have to clean up after them but me, even at the expense of my sanity.
i love them and i hate them. i have too many right now but adoptions have been slow.
resident animals outnumber human residents in this house.
henry turtle the quadrapalegic is my favorite. probably because he relies on me the most. he needs me.
i love my fiancee, but i dont think he loves me. i dont know why. and he tells me he does. but i dont believe him. i dont believe him because i dont know why he should love me. i am fat and dumb and stupid and ugly and he gives all of his energy helping me every day. i have taken him from his family, his friends and his hobbies. I've turned him into a workaholic becuase i am a workaholic.
i am horribl with money and he pays most of my bills.
i suck the life out of him.
i am fat.
he is a little, but i love it. i like his cock, too - i actually enjoy giving him head, but i never do it because i am always tired because i work too much and take too much prozac. or too little?
i love the way he fucks me and makes love to me. i push him away too often.
i dont tell him how much i need him beacause i feel it is obvious. if he were to leave me i would have nothing. i do not pay my own rent. he pays it. we live together and he pays my way and does everything.
i am useless.
i love my job and try to stay positive about it. i still remember the death of my former job and when i thikn about it, i still cry. i still remember the one old cat i sent to be euthanized because we had no space. he was surrendered beause of his age and I said it was ok to kill him in a cold shelter, with what they call a "heart stick" - which is an injection of euthasol directly to the heart. they sedate and heart stick. normal practive is via injection directly through the vein - heart sticks, they can feel it -= but it is quicker. I sent him to die like that. and afterwards he was thrown in a barrel and taken to a dump.
what a waste.
i am tired.