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Time and Wine

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post #87
bio: kristen

first post
that week

Category List
The ones about love
The ones about men

Previous Posts
Dutch Ultimatum
The Ludditette
Friday Party #347
The Wizard of Uz
Taking One 4 the Team
Leap and the Net Will Appear

What more could be said?

I am not at one with the muse anymore. Not at one. I don't know where she is, and I know she'll be back... but I'm fucking tired and grumpy and surly.

I find myself muttering 'fuck' all the time. I feel like a frumpy housewife. Whereas before, I would have told you that cool is so stupid and that I am cool but who cares if I am or not.

When you totally don't feel 'cool', it's not cool. It's like when you are at a skinny/thin phase, you mock all those that feel fat - or you can't relate. I am not cool. I feel quite unconfident and like a haggard troll.

Isn't it strange? I have a hard time empathizing with someone when I am not IN that emotion. Mine take trumps over other's. And to think, I always consider myself empathetic. (yeah, maybe if I'm talking one on one with you and you are a powerful and intense person, I'll feel it).

For instance, mark is as depressed as a fucker can be. I have been depressed as a motherfucker could be, but I'm not depressed now. There is a huge difference between depressed and sad (and actually, I don't know how mark feels ((as the vulcan mind-meld has not been perfected)), but I would say he's just quite understandably sad).

Last night, he opened up to me and said he was sad and couldn't understand what was going on and had a hard time segmenting me and stripping me down from the wife category to the friend category.

I understood. I understand, but I couldn't empathize. To me, it's dead. I can't feel those feelings. I would try. I could try and placate and please. All I could say was that I understood and I was sorry and that I would always be there. Always. But I couldn't FEEL it.

Sometimes I think with those who love me unconditionally, I'm the most austere with. As the 'ments say: the ones who love us least are the ones we'll die to please. The ones who love us best are the ones we'll lay to rest and visit their graves on holidays at best.

I have nothing to say to you, but I want to talk to you. Can you understand. I need to know that you are out there. I know you are out there.

Lyrics. They are my memorized poetry. I am sorry to always defer to them; however, I'm very source-y. I'll give credit where credit is due.

You know my belief that we are born magnets and just absorb things that we hear and see that resonate with us - and that becomes who we are...
When I listen to old U2 in this 33-year old body with all of it's rings, I realize that U2 fucking developed what I thought passion was - love was.

I'm not an original. I'm a regurgitator. Kent once called me a debaser, and the pixie's song always make me wryly grin and sigh - just like with brian 'wicked little doll' does.

I love you. Don't leave me just because I'm dull.

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