Late-Night Ramblings By Slinkerwink

[slinkerwink]

Once again, I find myself online in a blatant attempt to procrastinate. Procrastination's my name, and I am the state of procrastination. I am a closed-up state whose borders may not be crossed by illegal aliens bearing the name "Jesus" from Mexico City. I am a frantic, pent-up ball of energy that explodes at the last minute. The intensity of the blast does not matter as long as I explode right before the deadline looms. I'm sleep-deprived, and I want nothing more than to curl up with my pillow in lieu of a cute wifey, and fall asleep. I want to sink my teeth into my teddy bear and shake all the stuffing out of it in a fit of violence. I'm itchy, and I need to be on the move. I am stuck in the state of procrastination----how to bust out of these borders?

I can't spin a metaphor enough to save my life. If there was a grammar nazi on board, I'd fail at grammar and be punished as a result by walking the plank. I want to do a million things, and my worst fear is that I won't be able to do a fraction of them all, and then I'll be a failure in life. I want to grow old, to live the domestic empire dream with little biological expulsions of me running about screaming at the top of their lungs, I want to travel, to see the unexpected, live the unexpected, be the unexpected, and I want to write a book about my childhood because I'm inexplicably convinced that it'll sell over twenty million copies because people have got to be interested in the life of a deaf girl at a deaf school.

I am egotistical, vain, politically-minded, with my head high above in the clouds, and I have way too many flaws to count. I was asked by someone why I was harder on myself than I am on others and the truth is that I don't know why I tend to be so hard on myself. I don't believe it when people give me compliments because I always suspect some sort of ulterior motive behind the compliment. When I was little, I used to pretend that my life was a movie, and I'd talk to myself in the mirror and try out facial expressions. Make a sad face, and now do a happy face. Talk about what you really think about your mother, your life, your brothers, your friends in front of the mirror, and imagine that there's some sort of an unseen observer(maybe god?) watching behind the mirror. I want more for myself, and the irony is that I'm afraid to step outside of the box.

Sometimes I don't know what I want, and sometimes I do know what I want. Right now, what I want is to be in love, and it's so funny that I want love when I've been burned by love so badly many times. Maybe what I really want is the tactile sensation of someone being with me, arms around me, a kiss on my cheek/below my chin/down to my neck. I don't know. A million things are going through my mind right now. My mother wants to come this weekend and to stay in my room. I don't want her here. If she's here, I have to hide my queer books, the risque posters on my wall, clean my room, do all of my laundry, be the good daughter/look like I'm studying every single minute of the day. I hate having to take away a part of my personality and replacing it with the "gooddutifulcatholicdaughter" personality.

Blah. I'm tired of thinking. I need sleep, warm arms around me, warm blankets, a starry sky over my head, and a thousand pleasantly benign dreams floating through my head.

[jdots]

1. YOU ARE NOT ALONE ON THIS ONE !!!!!

There's a sceen in the movie " What the Bleep " that really hit home, the central charactor is at the mirror yelling I hate you I hate you at herself the movie is about quantum physics ,but it's really about more than that. i haven't slept well since bush was selected So how can a movie about quantum physics be so everything ????? i think you'll like it.