2003-01-02
11:52 p.m.
there are two of us
I have so much trouble speaking in specifics here, partially because my life is lived matter-of-factly and I prefer to process through contrast, and also because so many people I love read this. It's not a this-diary-is-defunct entry, no; just this-diary-is-so-obfuscated-by-propriety-and-fairness entry. Months ago, I set up another diaryland account where I could blog without fear of discovery, but I haven't used it. I don't like being split down the middle. Some people call me p and some r, but I sign pr and leave the decisions to everyone else. When my parents refer to Halifax (/Yellowknife/camp/wherever I happen to be) as my other life, I give stern talks about my life being one large adventure that includes a million people and places if I need it to. Nevertheless, I focus so narrowly on keeping my careful dividers in place - and on behaving exactly how people expect - that I teeter on the edge of lies (the kind that are made of missed opportunities for truth). In the interest of being more whole, today I recounted a dream I had last night to my mother. The crux of the dream was that I had discovered a penis where my clitoris should be, and that I could just reach it with my mouth. The disappointment of the dream was that I kept popping my cork as soon as my tongue reached my man(woman?)hood, and my hair was filthy in no time. I told my mother. * I have stern talks to give, talks that I dread. (Here it comes, obfuscation, because it's some of you that I need to talk with.) I have one drippingly (drippingly)honest talk to spill on an unsuspecting lap (do you suspect now?). I dread this more than the stern one, because three supposedly-isolated incidents together have proven to me my stupid patterns. For some reason, I am not letting this dissuade me. Friendship and frankness mean ten times more, as does an aforementioned fire in my belly. This is longer than it is interesting, and my head is pounding. It's pounding because I'm dehydrated and sick. I'm dehydrated and sick because I've been ignoring water and sleep for days. I've been ignoring them for days because keeping myself alive seemed more a matter of figuring shit out than drinking, eating, sleeping. Truly, I've been ready for a tall glass of water and a long lie in bed since sundown, and I refuse to give myself either till I come up with a plan of action. I don't want to be cruel, to forget sympathy and support, but I need to keep myself intact. Integrity is more than honour; it's well-blended soup, if you know what I mean. If you've made it this far, you must. **** sidebar: no, for real, kiss me till I forget your name. I don't know what the fucking problem is. people like me, you know. who I am, who I was
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