"the taste of my own behaviour"
Sep. 27th, 2004 02:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omnia_mutanturnewsy crap.
sometimes, i miss the world. well, maybe more than sometimes.
there are a gazillion people out there i'd like to see. and blessedly, my irrepressible good nature (snerk) keeps me in hot pursuit of said opportunity. but, i'm never quite sure if my tactic is the most appropriate, since it's certainly not reaping me the desired results.
lyric's done something horrible to her neckmuscles, so it's perfectly understandable that she couldn't come out this weekend. spark's got a retail job, no car and a boy. sanguine lives too far away. i'll finally (hopefully) see cherished this thursday. motion's got the most complicated social life i've ever borne witness too. vintage has been busy with her friend's wedding shower. etc, etc, etc. (if i fail to mention you, it's not because i don't crave your company, but because i haven't got a handle on why i haven't seen you lately, and don't want to fall back on the traditional 'maybe you don't want to see me.')
the idea of seeing history at least once, maybe twice a week (and maybe three times when i'm lucky) is like christmas, except good.
maybe this is what happens when you're in a serious living-with-each-other relationship. or maybe this is what happens as i solidify into the stone cold bitchness that seems to entertain the few people already close to me, and put off everyone else.
i'd throw myself a housewarming party, but i'd be afraid no one would come. which sounds woe-is-me, but i don't think it is. though who knows how to tell that these days?
someday soon, I need to teach myself about light fixtures, so i can get rid of the terrifying old-man yellow-stained-glass thing in my dining room.) we're trying to make the dark chocolate curry tonight. i'm contemplating beginning to cook everything in my electric skillet, as my hatred for the stove grows. (soon, it will be my archenemy. i'm refraining from naming it, but my restraint's not going to last)
there's more, seeping around the corners, about living and cooking and reading and the urge to kill my mother, and trying to figure out what's next, because as far as i can tell, there is no obvious Next Thing.
sometimes, i miss the world. well, maybe more than sometimes.
there are a gazillion people out there i'd like to see. and blessedly, my irrepressible good nature (snerk) keeps me in hot pursuit of said opportunity. but, i'm never quite sure if my tactic is the most appropriate, since it's certainly not reaping me the desired results.
lyric's done something horrible to her neckmuscles, so it's perfectly understandable that she couldn't come out this weekend. spark's got a retail job, no car and a boy. sanguine lives too far away. i'll finally (hopefully) see cherished this thursday. motion's got the most complicated social life i've ever borne witness too. vintage has been busy with her friend's wedding shower. etc, etc, etc. (if i fail to mention you, it's not because i don't crave your company, but because i haven't got a handle on why i haven't seen you lately, and don't want to fall back on the traditional 'maybe you don't want to see me.')
the idea of seeing history at least once, maybe twice a week (and maybe three times when i'm lucky) is like christmas, except good.
maybe this is what happens when you're in a serious living-with-each-other relationship. or maybe this is what happens as i solidify into the stone cold bitchness that seems to entertain the few people already close to me, and put off everyone else.
i'd throw myself a housewarming party, but i'd be afraid no one would come. which sounds woe-is-me, but i don't think it is. though who knows how to tell that these days?
someday soon, I need to teach myself about light fixtures, so i can get rid of the terrifying old-man yellow-stained-glass thing in my dining room.) we're trying to make the dark chocolate curry tonight. i'm contemplating beginning to cook everything in my electric skillet, as my hatred for the stove grows. (soon, it will be my archenemy. i'm refraining from naming it, but my restraint's not going to last)
there's more, seeping around the corners, about living and cooking and reading and the urge to kill my mother, and trying to figure out what's next, because as far as i can tell, there is no obvious Next Thing.
