Curing slowly

In the last week I've done shit all to feed myself well. And then the week prior, I hadn't gone and done some good grocery shopping. I dropped 70 bucks tonight on groceries, and fuck it felt fine. But i haven't made anything yet. partly because I want to go to bed. I just want to have my shit in order and get in control, you know.

I wish there was time to both be fucked up and not, to both have long nails and bite them. To sit and lay down and do nothing, but to also bike very far, run for fun, go to yoga. I would first like to ask for time to fix my bike. Or have me decided whether or whether not to pay the money to get it fixed.

My mind just drifted off to homework assignments.

I have this memory, of Olivia and I sitting in the grass beside Cornwall road near Chelsea's house one spring/summer. She had her bike, and I had mine. That's nice. To have a bike, and to have more space to bike. I like being alone on the road with the pedals. I'm off dreaming now. I've bitten my nails off completely now.

Maybe I will shower, and then go to bed. I need money for laundry in the morning. I will go to Uncommon Grounds and buy coffee in the early morning. I might spike it with some Baileys, that'd be nice. I'll definitely pop a dexi though, then get my package from the post office. My mom got me a bunch of mangoes and chocolate and stuff.

I'll prep food for the morning - then yum - I'll just get started and done. It's always so tricky though - where to, where to do the homework. Oh yah, it's Wednesday. I've really finished all my finger nails off.

My nose hurts. I'll down my camomille. Go to the Starbucks on Barrington. Then I'll head over to the Port - I don't know why. What is there? And then head over to Granville. Will I want to have an all nighter there? Mmm, I didn't like those, not at all.

So we'll see.

Okay, best of luck to us all. Enjoy your time as it is. In all of its mundanities.

Kim is twenty one. Another Thursday night, but the only Thursday March 21st 2013 that I will experience.

My eyes are burning. my back is sore. Check out this painting I did of my face. It took - 3 or four hours. Which is ridiculous. Because she (my instructor) wanted us to stop at two hours. I couldn't. It doesn't matter. I'm going to say that with the pills that's why it took me longer. But I kind of like it right now. Here it is:

It's cute eh.

I mean, it's still fucked up in some ways. I'm going to go back tomorrow after class and fix it. I don't want my tolerance for Dexi to go up, but i want to take it.

I like clenching my jaw. Do other people still do it when they take it? My jaw moves like I'm chewing gum.

First thing I did this morning was brush my teeth, and have some water. I made a smoothie, and had some sips, then toke a dexi. I then finished my smoothie, and had a large cup of black tea, and - more water. I didn't want to not eat today. By 1230, I bought a mini pizza and had that. I bought coffee, but I drank that seven hours later. I had some apples and strawberries, before my one o clock class. Whenever I would get up from crouching my head would become light headed. Fuck that. But I organized and cleaned, and did some extra paint things. I'm going to try and not fuss around with my jaw anymore. but it's difficult, because I'm slightly chewing my tongue, putting it to the roof of my mouth. I can't stop. Or maybe I can. Maybe. Hmm.

I bought a pack of cigarettes coming home. It was 1230 when I walked into my house. That's being at school from 1030 to 1200. Mhmm.

I got to talk to Shaun for a bit. I messaged Marena asking her if she had seen my water bottle 0 negatory. Then I asked Shaun and he said he had seen it! I had left it in his stone carving room. I don't know if he brought it home, or if it was left in that room - but he dropped it off to me during class.

It's been such a weird day. Shaun wasn't feeling comfortable, and that wasn't make me feel good. He said his class and me don't trust him. I asked him how he thinks I don't trust him. Meh. Is this shit worth writing down, really?

When I was buying my pizza lunch, he texted me saying that he'd drop off my water bottle to me if I wanted to. Why is he bothering making any plans with me? It made me both sad and hopeful. Then feeling unshure of when he could come if he did. It's not a big deal, but then it is.

We were gunna go for a walk today. But I wanted to finish my painting, so I delayed and stayed at school for two more hours than planned. And then it was late, like it was eleven thirty, and I didn't have the energy to talk and express. No will power to do it. So I was thinking or going to ask him if we could post pone. But then he postponed before me. He needs to call his mom because of some family issues.

It's interesting how the same mask can cover different faces. Which layer do you pa y attention to? So he cancelled again, but with reason. I'm just goig to believe him. A part in me takes it personally and thinks he made up a lie. But nah, I don't think that is it.

It feels pointless. In these moods, all I want to do is do nothing. Not a damn thing. My involvement goes lower, because I just keep on getting progressively sadder I guess. One day I will lighten up, that's for shure.

But if I can be out going for long periods of time, I can shure as hell feel sad for a while. And voila.

I need to do some shit tomorrow. Tomorrow we're talking. I'm excited, in a - "finally!" sorta way. By no means am I bouncing up and down. Here I am, with my hopes up. I just feel like it's failed before any attempt.

I told my Dad before, that I would try to bond and express love with him, but he would say something and it's like sticking out my hand and it's slapped, so I never want to stick out my hand again. This is my Dad. I was saying that it affects me so much that I don't retry. This scenario was me making dinner for him. I wanted to put tomatoes on the dish, but he said no because he didn't like tomatoes. And I was being selfish,  YOU WILL IKE WHAT IGIVE YOU , BECAUSE IT IS I WHO IS GIVING IT TO YOU. I didn't want to adjust myself to another person. But this is where I am inconsiderate of his autonomy, and most definite right to have and to have not tomatoes. He told me, what if if he made me steak, would I have to eat it? And I said, that is different, because steak is bad, and tomatoes are good. Well guess what, I fucking hope I've learned from that. Let's see:

I picture me walking around near the train tracks tomorrow with Shaun and I'll be crying to him. He will stand away from me, and the space will hurt me so much. He will not know how to hold me when I am crying. Hell, maybe he will end up holding me, hugging my shoulders with his cheek  on the top of my head. He will say some thing that's suppose to be reassuring. But I won't believe him. I really don't trust him right now.

Who is he. Really? And who the fuck am I in relation to him?? Will he think that I'm fucking insane for being so emotional about things that he might think  shouldn't be affecting me so much.

I'm expecting to get hurt. To feel it make an impression on my chest, right in the center. My head will look down, because I will feel like no one can hear what I am saying. Do they understand that I am feeling? I am expecting to have my guard up. I'm expecting to yell, to get angry, to get sad, to feel guilty, and let's not forget - fear. A lot of fear.

At some point, I might even think, well, I'm done doing whatever. No more drive or momentum. I just want to not be, essentially.

It could be good.

I wrote in Marena's journal today. We were in this lecture hall filled with people there to hear an artist talk. I didn't bring anything to write in or distract myelf, but she had her journal, so she let me doodle in it as she doodled for her homework. I didn't doodle any images, except words. I wrote down:

-How what means everything/the universe is different for everyone.
-The golden rule. Do we give what  we want to give in consideration to our personal interests, or do we give what the other person is interested in?

I wrote some other things, but then I switched to something like if it was my journal, what I would be saying. It wasn't super personal, but it was, but it was also analytical?

-It's hard opening up to people, and feeling vulnerable and exposed.
-I don't know who to cry to
-I think it was Chelsea who before said to me, "Kim! I don't know how you are feeling because you do not open up to me! You're closed off."  Something like that.
-I'm scared of getting hurt a lot.

Then I wrote down, "This is how you are amazing." And I said that I like how she keeps her word when making plans, commitments and goals. I like that she shares. I told her that sometimes I don't want to hurt her feelings, but some times I don't want to receive what she's giving because I simply just don't want it, but she gets frustrated. The same thing with me and my Dad. But I reassured to her that it was fine. And then I said, don't feel like you have to give to be nice, or make people like you, or something, then I said that I need to follow that as my own advice. Because givers can be taken advantaged of. So be careful, and be safe. Next I said how I am sorry if i had hurt her from distancing myself form her, when she needed companionship. I said that although I do appreciate her trigger like reactions, some situations are better off if reactions aren't spontaneous. So walls are needed at times. I told her that me being a sensitive person and scared of getting hurt, with my stubborn mind, I have decided that there are some things that I shan't tell her because I am afraid of getting hurt. Because of this lack of a wall.

I continue with me and my story about Chelsea's critique on my closed nature. I say that it is because I am very scared of getting hurt. Who isn't! It fucking sucks. But this fear, is crazy. It makes me ask questions for others, just so I know them more. But then the tables are unbalanced, because, will they listen to me? Will they receive me well? So I opened up to her via writing in her journal. It felt good. I heart dexi. lol.

Now with Shaun. I feel deflated. I want to love him, but my arms are tired. I can't even lift them to give him a hug. Oh, the support is gone? How do I come to understand this? Maybe I'm just saving my energy for tomorrow.

So I had two dexi today. Damn. One at 930, and another at 230? I was dancing while I was painting the model in class. It was fun. In my head I imagined that she thought I was attractive and that we could become lesbians with each other. She looks righteous. Raised eyebrows, pierced middle bottom lip, thick body, styled eyebrows. Mhmm, yes. And it seems like she was very cool with me painting her. Or at least this is me taking all things in personally, in a positive way today. I really am happy with my self portrait up top.

Do I feel settled now? This had been almost an hours worth of writing. - Sweet. If only I could apply this to my essay. Muahaha. Fuck.

Good night

p.s. Do I look high in that self portrait? I figured and was self conscious with the idea of them being able to tell that I was fucked up.

MEHG, what's the difference.

Love (doesn't mean the same between people.)

Getting angry when I don't want to. And I think my mind is telling me emotions to shut up. And my emotions are being like, fuck off mind. I'm going to get angry.

AH! I am frustrated. And I'm releasing it on someone. I don't like being angry or frustrated at them, because I like them a lot. I've told them why I'm feeling like such. And they have said sorry. And it's in the past, and it's happened. There' no reason to feel sorry, or to say sorry. But me even saying that is like - there's no reason to feel angry, but then I am. Not at them, but at how I have been delayed. How there's no one to truly blame. Even if they did let me know, it's not like the situation I am in right now would be different. It's not like their actions would change. The outcome would have still been the same. I think it's just not getting left in the dark, is what I am getting at. If you're not going to show up, let me know. Let me fucking know. And I've left people in the dark too - so I'm just getting what I dish out.

Oh man. I just want things to start happening.

I'm going to obviously go to bed right now. maybe it's not obvious, because it's only obvious to when I'm writing this, but since this will be read in the future.. I guess - whatever. Fuck fuck fuck it all.

I just want to focus on things that are dependable. And that is me doing well in school, and not sacrificing my success in school, on people who don't give a shit about it enough to text me. but it's not like they knew.

God damn fucking damnit
 Good night.

" So I don't wanna be in there, and I left. "

Weird mornings.
Weird nights, deserve weird mornings.

If you want me, come and get me. If I want you, I'll come and get you. Push and pull and get out of my way, the elastic between us might snap because of this tension.

You feel good. Soft rubber, creates powder, against the flesh of my skin.

Who will win. Is it a game? Loss the game.

Oh baby, I know your name. How they call, where your sweet stuff is. Lemme play my tounge in your ear and tell you how't'iz.

I've been looking up on the internet, seeings what's what, and all of a sudden, I saw your video, you got it going on. Playing that song, singing with that voice. I could make love to your, singing back, mating call. just appreciation for them vocal calls.

Currently listening to James Joyce Ulyssess online - free stream.

Only after washing the dishes and scrubbing the pot which I burned, and going outside and having a smoke, and drinking a cup and a bit of wine - am I starting to feel better. More productive, or proactive.

I don't even know if I have time to write. "have time".

I'm cooking onions, and dreaming of spare time. Free time. no school time. It's always a jungle. What's the point in being in Halifax, and paying for rent, if I am not in school? But all I want to do is produce, but not always in school. It's so contrived. Everything is. "It's so contrived". Omg, can you hear me.

I'm going to read some FEMAHIS, I SWEAR, after I eat a bit. After I drink a bit. But most of all, after I sit outside and smoke a cigarette, and write out my drawing class ideas. Tomorrow, I would like to have produced a book that I will use for one of the assignments. It will be on going, so that will be cool. A "sketchbook" idea I guess.

A collection of drawings, but with prints. But how thick? How much will I fill? Not a lot. Only some.

My assignment I just handed in - sucked. I mean, sure it had some good things, but no effort. It had 3/5 of the effort necessary. Which is why I'm going to write out the ideas that I had for the class - in about twenty minutes.

The whole world is fucked.

There's not enough me to be separate, or to give enough attention to different peoples and things and myself, and tasks, and moods, and nothing. Less is more, truly.

I felt like grieving a bit for Dean a couple days ago. After I had first heard of his intentions. But then I stopped myself, and questioned why. Why do I feel like I need to/or should grieve. What is grieving? I live the loss of Mike, empathetically, theoretically, and metaphorically, or whatever word that fits, but imagining Olivia dead. That's a bit .. heavy. The feeling. The imagination. Oh my gosh, maybe I can draw it out as one of my assignments. (AH!) While she was here she was talking, and then in captions to what she was saying, my way of understanding was imagining her dead. And then it was like... holding back that imagination because I started to feel heavy in my chest.

And then I'm wondering my validity of being sad about Dean. There are many variables, filters in this.. topic. The concept of death. Of potentially forever not seeing again a person. A special person. A loss of interaction. A dependancy on memory. A sacredness. A faith. A many things that I dare not get into, because I don't even know, and I got onions on the stove. Fuck, I'm just making excuses because I do not know.

I feel proud, and like a loud mouth. Because walking home today I bumped into two kids from school, and being all present in this interaction, confident, or wanting to make an impression, I use the only great story I've learned of in the recent past, and I say, "a friend of a friend knelt down in front of a train." I feel guilty for saying it. Because it might be insensitive. But it's something that I'm not acknowledging perhaps because I'm in school. There's still routine there. Which, ever more so now seems mundane. This reality, the Dean reality, as a concept, flutters into my own, and others, for shure. And it's something that can't be not acknowledged. Sometimes, things can't be swept under the rug.

So the thing at hand is I guess - how to combine. Genuinely.

For instance, in order for me to hang out with friends and still go to school, is to draw my friends for my school assignments. And do it all well. It's not necessarily spreading oneself thin, it's more like using things to compliment each other. Or at least, this is how I see it.

So how do I compliment the plurality of realities that are fluctuating into this routine of mine.

Life, the process of balancing.

Do I feed off of this drama?

While peeing an hour ago, I was wondering - why do I hang out with Shaun? Do I really love him? Why am I with certain people? Is it because it is what is near and opportune? Is it merely because I'd rather not be with out them? So it's in comparison of what I do not want to be, that I "want" what is here. Is this.. calculated happiness? Then what is true happiness? What is true joy? Or are these concepts in themselves.. debatable. Well yeah. Fuck. Do I want to have a best friend, because life without a confidant is so frightening, that I better find that best friend and let them know, it's fear of the dark in which I appreciate their light. Is their light fake? Do I project light, ('light') onto people? Do we see what we want to see in people?

Life lived through filters.

Shure, it's a richer more enjoyable life spent with certain people, that in the idea of not having what they offer, in whatever it is that they offer - that I do look and search and hold onto them forever more tenaciously. The fear of heights makes me grip more firmly on to the rope from which I dangle.

Enough of these .. analogies.

What is genuine? Seriously, what is genuine? Not an object, but, the idea. What is genuine? What is , what IS, real? Is my life separate from the lives of every one else?

Does genuine exist? Or is everything genuine, and real, in as much as it is unreal.

Maybe it's unreal at how real things can be. Or

Just as everything is happening, it must be. It just.. is.

Being.

Being begin being begin being. I am beginning to be. I am begging to be. I am in the beginning of being. I am being. I be. I be I be I be profin, this will give anyone a headache.

In as much as I do not know what Love is, I know that things are happening that I do not know. And forever reason, maybe it's just that I materially exist, and metaphysically exist, but the currents in this sea/wave/ocean of life do move me. When you move, I move. When you splash, I get hit with specks of water. You cause reactions on to me.

It is never over used, because there's not a limit to it - but I love you. In fear of losing what is so great, I am just always glad to have met you. For you to have made an impression onto me.

My favourite advice from my father, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Right on. Food now.

Lol. Fire alarm went off - and slightly burned the onions. Whatever - didn't want perfection anyways. BECAUSE PERFECTION.. is whenever you're ready to see and accept it.

I'm not going to post this one. But there were some good things that happened today, I guess.

And then some weird ones. How things change when - well, something new is brought up.

I held Marley's hand today. This was the last good thing that happened at school. It was a good hand hold too. I was lying down out on the couch in the lounge, and I was pseudo reading. But also talking with Mike, I'll get onto in a bit. And then when Marley came, I didn't see him but I knew there were two guys who came in from behind me. When I saw the first guy, I didn't know him. But then I saw Marley, and I was like, "Heeeyyy." Or whatever. I was just in the liking of seeing him. I held out my arm, palm up to him. So I was holding my hand out to him while I was saying hey. And then from two or three metres away, he responded back with an equal Hey, and he put his hand in my hand. And then we were holding hands! Hah. I was still in conversation with Mike. And Marley was still talking to his friend. I was facing one way, and Marley the other. But it was truly holding hands. And then it was tapping hands. It reminded me of holding hands with Ken. Just pure love. Emotional, physical love. I love it. I truly do.

I thought initially I wasn't going to post this. Maybe I will, because I feel like by not posting, I would be saying I am ashamed I have held hands with marley. Because it might mean something. Well it does mean something. To me, really. It's comforting.

Mike also, so before all this love, there was a calling for Love. Mike came into the lounge and he was looking for a model drawing session, but he couldn't find it. And he commented on himself being to drunk to do his drawing homework, or to draw a model. He was drunk, long story short, because, I guess, his girlfriend called him last night to tell him that she still loves him. Man. His heart is in such stress and hurt and love. Fuck. I wanted to hold his hand too. But my hand was holding Marley's when he was talking about this, when the two guys came in.

I like feelings. I like people expressing their feelings. It makes me feel comfortable, because nothing too fake is going on around me. Plastic smiles, rehearsed greetings and salutations. I'm sorry, but please, give me some saliva if you're gunna kiss me. I wanna taste the salt from your tears, and smell your existence, and feel how real you are. You have presence, make an impression on me.

You do, you all do, so naturally. Even if you think you don't, I'll perceive you like you are. Anyways.

Yeah man, I judge people. * * I compare people on some level of.. it's crazy, lemme say. But I've also read it in my astrology (defering the responsibility I have over my character, hah.) But it's like, you gotta handle yourself. But then, you also gotta be comfortable enough with yourself to lose yourself. You gotta, be real, and express. Right on. You gotta, not pout to me, or come to me for pity. I'm no vending machine. Do not select E5 to take out a little bit of some, "Awws," and, "That looks good." Mm.

Ratings of Men: ..

naw. I will not go there. Do I need to make a list, it's obvious right? I mean. You go by blood. Then by love. Then by strands of character that have not yet reached the level of family hood, or love-romance. Why am I judging guys right now? Wow. I must feel good.

I'm not going to delete, but I would delete in between these two * * and the above set.

Moving along. I'm tired because I've slept ten hours in the past two nights. I'm going to sleep 6 tonight. Not enough. I'm not going to go to Yoga tomorrow either. I decided that when I made my tea.

All I really wanted to do is write about holding Marley's hand. So unexpectedly. I didn't even know I was signaling for it, you know. I wanted to express my appreciation for Mike coming up to me. But I didn't know how to care for him. But I think I was by just being there. Passive care. Muahaha. And then. I hope I didn't give out a rude amount of information about Mike's situation. I'm self-conscious about the stigma that gemini's have of being gossipers. I do. I do share stories and communicate. Mmm.. so.

I'm going to go to bed now. Thank you for everything.

I've been shouting out prayers lately. I feel like voicing out concentrated thoughts or intentions. Or merely thinking about them does give them some tangible reality later on. Anyways. Good night

I hung out with Shaun last night for a bit. And got to see the folks over at Clifton for a quick bit before that. I got one of those study pills from Barrett. I thought I was gunna go drawing during the whole night.. but I didn't. I'll get back to that soon. It was nice, because it's good how the warm feeling lasts for a bit after seeing someone who gives you warmth and such. We were texting, and I said to him, "Olivia Bibby. I can't Barrett." heh heh heh.

It makes me happy.

And you know what, the skies were very gray today. Which gets me to my next thing.

I took that study pill, and drew for 3 2 hourish sessions. I miss (*"miss") clenching my jaw. There was a moment when I realized, woah, This isn't me feeling this. Damn. And it's such a little sibling to MDMA, but it's amazing what storehold of memory feelings .. get a quick bit of air to breathe.

It was cold. And wet. I got a stick jabbed into my thumb because I was climbing down those steep sides to where it levels out on the trains/ish area.

I was just listening to that Neon Bible song, the black wave in the sea felt like it was in my chest. Now I imagine if the sun is hollow? "Hollow". It's got some space in there, right? Do we know? "Know?"

Anyways, it felt really good to sit outside and draw. I don't even know if it was the pills or not, or just how I was drawing and being out there. I think the rain even made it all worth it too, because it got my paper so soaked I could blend with the oil based pastels and conte. Kind of like oil paint sticks.

They're a bit dirty, the drawings. I'll patch them up before I sleep, Maybe I'll go back out to the place to draw sum more tomorrow.

Shit- laundry. Needs to dry.