November's Start

Monday, November, 3rd 2008 at 12:23pm

I’m so proud of myself. I have 5652 words so far (including the words chapter one, two, three and four) for nanowrimo. I never knew I could just start a novel on the fly like this, and I never knew how much fun it would be. Perhaps I am supposed to be a writer after all? Or maybe not; maybe it’s just a great experience. But imagine if I wrote 5000 words in two days, every day. It would be inevitable that I would become an amazing writer.

Tuesday, November, 4th 2008 at 12:27am

Make that 7735 words. I’m having a lot of fun with this. Today I spent two hours working on packing things in Mary’s apartment. I spent an hour out with my Mom, dropping a couple things off at Mary’s new house, and going grocery shopping. When I got back I cleaned my fridge and snack sorting thingy. They both needed it. Besides those things, I’ve spent the day reading, writing, drawing and digitally painting. I feel like a well of creativity that is continually refilled just by the passing of time.

Tuesday, November, 4th 2008 at 6:55pm

Somehow I doubt Crusifer is going to make it out to vote. He puts his job before everything, including his sanity and me. I was just there to pick him up with my mom because I couldn’t see him making it to where-ever his voting place is without a ride and he snapped at me about how I’ve asked him a zillion times and such, and so I just said, “if you’re going to be a dick-head, then I’ll leave,” and I turned on my heal and left.
I voted. Of course for Obama. It’s not something I choose to write about much in blog, mostly because I don’t have any unique opinion to offer, only my support of Obama’s values.
Also while mom and I were out, we dropped of Guy after a long day’s work. The wood for the attic office is now mostly up here. The two big parts (the desk tops) are now up here anyway. Mary’s old big black chair that she gave me once upon a time is now on her new house’s porch, thanks to Dad for putting in the car, thanks to me for suggesting we drop it off while we were dropping Guy off.
I started painting the my new kitchen’s cupboards a bit. I have not done much at all yet though, just a splotch of black paint before my mom called me to go vote. I hadn’t expected her to be ready sooner than she had predicted she’d be ready.
And in other news, I have 8500 words written for Nanowrimo. I feel special.
(Just as a side note, right before I left and had that little confrontation with Crusifer I saw a plump black spider on the kitchen cupboards.)











Tuesday, November, 4th 2008 at 9:59pm

It’s getting to that point where I don’t even look forward to seeing him at all. I look upon his days off with dread, and the “winter hours” where for a few months he gets off at nine o’clock with complete distaste.
He didn’t vote, as I knew he wouldn’t. In his own words, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anybody but himself. I can see that. It’s clearer to me now than ever. I’m bracing myself for the split. It’ll be soon. I’m so glad he left. It feels better when he’s not here, and that’s just the sad fact of the matter. Seeing him is a painful reminder of everything I wanted to be that just isn’t and won’t be.
He’s not going to get sober. He’s not going to control his anger. He’s not going to put me before his job or anything else in his life. He’s not going to give me the respect I deserve. He’s not going to stop lying to me, stop letting me down, stop contradicting himself, and so forth.
More and more of my life I keep separate from him, and it’s more and more evident that those parts of my life are the better parts. I love to sit here and do artwork with him. I love to have an intellectual discussion with him. I love to watch animes with him. I love the way he makes love to me. All of those things are wonderful, but they’re short. There are more days with arguing than there are days without, by far. And not just “I disagree” arguments, but irrational, loud arguments.
I’m not even sure I’m in love with him anymore. In fact, I don’t think I am. I still care about him enough to say I love him, but I’m not marrying him. He’s proved to me over and over that he’s not worth it and doesn’t believe that I’m worth it. He’s chosen beer over me time and time and time again. He’s chosen weed over me, his job over me, his video games and his music.
Then he turns around and tells me I’m most important. But I remember him ignoring my calls on purpose while with his friends. I remember being sick and him leaving to go do what ever the hell he wanted to do. I remember him telling me he’d be right back knowing he was going upstairs to play video games. I remember him driving like he was fucking crazy just because he was annoyed with me. (There is no excuse to drive like that, ever. Drinking is not an excuse. If you’re drunk, then don’t drive. Being angry is not an excuse. If you can’t control your anger, then don’t drive.)
I’m letting him walk all over me just by putting up with this shit at this point. No point in really covering the things he just yelled at me. The key points involved how I don’t do anything worth note, how I’m a liar, how I don’t understand what “real” men do, and how he doesn’t care about anybody but himself, so fuck the election, fuck me, fuck his co-workers and everybody else.
I’m not in tears. I’ve come a long way. I’ve cried for him more in the past than I will in the future at this point, that’s for sure. I’m sure I can be better appreciated by someone else. To continue this after every stunt he’s pulled is madness. Damn it, all these words I could have been typing on my novel for nanowrimo, but I’m writing this angry entry instead because of him.
And now I’m just sitting here looking at my screen.












Wednesday, November, 5th 2008 at 1:00am

As always... Being alone hits me at exactly one o’clock in the morning. My stomach sinks. My brain falters in it’s thoughts. My heart feels palpably heavy. My jaw slackens, my eyebrows constantly try to meet each other in the center of my brow. I shiver. I feel like crying.
I don’t feel like him coming home will help. I don’t wish for him to be here, though I don’t wish for him not to be here anymore. My day has ended now.
Mort says to bring as much of your sphere of life into that of the sphere of your partner... By the same principal, I’m moving my sphere. I don’t associate eating certain foods with him. I watch anime on my own now as well, not just with him. I don’t only draw beside him, but also while he’s at work. I cook for myself even when I’m not cooking for him, which is new for me.
I’m learning to do things for myself without having anyone else prod me to do so. It always used to be hard to cook for myself, even though I’d cook for other people, especially Crusifer. I’m not over my fear of driving entirely yet, but it’s passing.
I’ve grown too much for the shell I’ve put myself in.
I want to cry... I want to cry... But I don’t want to lose myself in misery, so I’m just sitting here... Feeling weak and empty and useless and stupid.

Wednesday, November, 5th 2008 at 2:46pm

So I write to Crusifer online over Skype;
“So what triggers your subconscious to be angry? It's a serious problem that you could deal with the rest of your life if you don't find the answer to that question and a solution. In fact, this is deeper than just being "cav" because not all of your "angry thoughts" are completely consistent. There are different triggers that causes you to feel different ways. All of these triggers lead you to act as though you care about nobody but yourself, and to say so, but the finer points seem to depend on the exact trigger.
“I have a feeling that me saying these things alone is a trigger. Perhaps this is all still left over from Brianna? You believe that you wouldn't have been hurt if you could have just cared less, so your automatic response to anything hurtful is to not care, but that's over simplifying and it does not make any solution clear.
“Further more, you "pretend" to not care about things you DO care about, which is a deeper problem. When you act as though you don't care about something that you do care about you are essentially lying to yourself and everyone around you at that time.”

Thursday, November, 6th 2008 at 12:31pm

I don’t feel like doing anything right about now. I wish I felt like writing. I have 10,000 words so far, but I can’t rest on that. I barely seem able to formulate an entry. That’s pretty pitiful. Guess I need to get my blood moving.
(It’s Crusifer’s day off but he has an appointment for 2:00pm, so for some reason he left at the usual time. I don’t mind.)
I’ll put on some music and my work clothes and probably go get more stuff done in Mary’s apartment.


Saturday, November, 8th 2008 at 3:43pm

12,900 words for National Novel Writing Month so far, which puts me right on time. I’d like to get a bit further ahead though. Sometime this week I want to try the ten-thousand words in five hours challenge. That’s got to be interesting. I’ve never written for five hours straight before.

Stepfordtart,
Hey, doing nanowrimo doesn’t take as much time as everyone thinks. If you really get into the spirit of it and turn off your auto-editing and just write whatever you feel like writing for half an hour a day you should at least come close to making it, and can feel proud of yourself and have a ton of stuff to work with and let your internal editor go crazy in December.

Anna,
Reading anything at all seems to boost my writing and browsing diaries is probably an excellent way to find unique inspiration. I wish you luck.

Tobias,
Thanks. I feel very liberated as of late. Forced creativity can sometimes be stale at first, but after a while you start to build real ideas on top of the forced stale ones. I feel like a fountain of creation.

Tre,
Interesting that you still in exist. I have a question for you? Why was it that you never went on a crazy tantrum when I left you? I was always afraid that you might bring the house down with you. It might be useful to know why...

Tater,
I’m really the only person ever in my way if I chose to look at it that way. Lately I’ve been telling my over-analyzer to shut up and let me be. It makes life a lot less stressful and when you’re not stressed out you get more done.

It seems that all the novel writing leaves me little inspiration to write entries as well. As a quick over-view today Mary rented a truck and Dad, Guy, me and mom packed it full of stuff today. Mom did the disassembling of Mary’s bed, I packed things and carted things around, Dad packed things into the truck, guy carried out a bunch of odd tasks and together they carried out all the big stuff. I’ve already moved a bunch of my own things down there. I want to make sure it’s throughly claimed so that my parents don’t go and do anything silly and uncalled for in the space.
Looks like Matt and I won’t be hanging out at all this week. We had made sketchy plans to possibly do something yesterday but that never happened and today we both seem to be caught up in our own things. This week has been pretty busy anyway. I’ve been writing, packing, painting, cleaning, reading and drawing alternately all week. It feels pretty good.
Yesterday mom and I went to a far-away Amvets, a larger one than the one nearer to us. We were looking for a possible dining room table. We didn’t find one of those but I picked up two end-tables for my bedroom and a new wheeled little black desk-ish thing for my laptop. It fits with the room much better than the craft table, and it’s a tiny bit smaller, and the wheels allow me to pull it up to my bed more easily. Now the craft table is down in the new craft room. (Mary’s old bedroom, which previous to the fire was my childhood bedroom.)
In other news, Crusifer and I are at a stalemate of sorts. He’s trying to be very kind and all of that for the moment. I’m not sure if I believe anything he says at all anymore.

Sunday, November, 9th 2008 at 12:12pm

It seems that waking and writing is nigh impossible in this house. The moment the phone rings all peaceful dreaming thoughts are gone. Yet, if nobody wakes me up I sleep until forever and get woken up by a phone anyway. Ah, if only I could recapture the discipline I had when I was nine, when I woke at seven o’clock without any alarm. I’d probably have to get up to an alarm every day for a long time for that to come back.
Somewhere in highschool I got too used to shutting the alarm off and going back to bed. I got good at going back to sleep. Seem like a useful talent, but it’s really a bane for me. I’d get more things done if I didn’t oversleep at every opportunity. It seems that I enjoy over sleeping though.
I wish I had dreams flooding my thoughts instead of thoughts of what today will be like... I suppose I need to somehow channel whatever I’m feeling into my writing.

Sunday, November, 9th 2008 at 2:50pm
I seem to not be able to do anything but hate myself at this moment. I’m waiting for my mom to get back from Mary’s house with the car so I can drive over to the cardshop and meet back up with Kali and Jeremy... She’s back now. I’m going to the cardshop. I’ll probably meet up with Matt there around six o’clock. It’s sad that this is what happens on Crusifer’s day off now. I want to die... Of I don’t, but I feel like saying that I do.

Sunday, November, 9th 2008 at 5:30pm

A song I just now wrote;

I don’t want to live,
I don’t want to die,
I don’t want to breathe,
I don’t want to lie.

I don’t want to see your face,
I don’t want to see mine either,
ever again, ever again..

Wait don’t go,
I don’t know.
I didn’t mean to say,
I didn’t mean it that way.

I don’t want to wake up,
I don’t want to go to sleep.
I don’t want to get up,
I don’t want to eat.

I don’t feel like I did,
I don’t know what I just said,
I think I’m going to go to bed.
I think I’m going to do it again.

I don’t want to live,
I don’t want to die,
I don’t want to breathe,
I don’t want to lie.

I don’t want to see,
I don’t want to be,
whatever you decree,
that’s what I’ll be.

I can’t find a better way,
I don’t what to say,
I’m alone anyway,
just like any other day.

I can’t find a better way,
I know what you’ll say,
That’s just how it is today.
That’s just like you anyway.

I don’t want to live,
I don’t want to die,
I don’t want to breathe,
I don’t want to lie.

I don’t want to hear your voice,
I don’t want to hear mine either,
ever again, ever again..

Wait don’t go,
I don’t know.
I didn’t mean to say,
I didn’t mean that anyway.

I can’t find a better way,
I don’t what to say,
I’m alone anyway,
just like any other day.


Sunday, November, 9th 2008 at 5:40pm

I’ve given up... Somewhere around two weeks ago. I’m going to try to give this one more shot... I’m not ready to call it quits, so I might as well try and work things out one more time...

Monday, November, 10th 2008 at 2:19am

My emotions haven’t changed one quat since I wrote that song earlier today... I tried to have sex with Crusifer for the first time in over a month. I’m still bleeding, so I should have known it would hurt. For some reason the blood has a texture that hurts me, it never used to of course, but I’m cursed, so I just expect stupid shit like this.
I’ve spent the entire day desperately searching for love one way or another. I didn’t find it. I laid all my feelings out to Crusifer while giving him a pedicure. He had nothing at all to say to everything I said except, “why don’t you just leave then if I make you so miserable?”
I’m ashamed. I’ve been so miserable that I didn’t manage to write anything onto my novel today... I’m hoping I can bring myself out of it tomorrow. It’s just so hard to clear my mind... I’m constantly thinking about what I’m going to do with myself in the near future to make myself stop feeling this way. I can’t go on feeling so low, it’ll ruin my flush of artwork and writing.

Monday, November, 10th 2008 at 3:37pm

[3:06:49 PM] I say; “The episode of ergo proxy I just watched wouldn't have been one you would have liked after all.”
[3:07:03 PM] He answers; “fuuuuuck...”
[3:07:07 PM] I say; “No action. Just the main character finally loosening up and taking the stick out of her ass.”
[3:07:20 PM] He answers; “my models orthograph is off... he breast area is the same as the stomach
[3:07:45 PM] I say; “hm... You made the side view taller.”
[3:09:27 PM] He answers; “yeah... back to photoshop. lol. damn the model was looking good too”
[3:10:46 PM] I say; “You need to set them side by side and just make the front view as tall as the side view I bet.”
[3:11:24 PM] He answers; “well....what I did wrong was I tried to set the image up in Maya instead of setting it up in photoshop 1st then import. I tried to be sweet and it didn’t work.”
[3:11:37 PM] I say; “yeah. That's generally the case. Try being a *sweetheart* instead.”
[3:12:03 PM] He answers; “im slacking... My life is a big ball of confusion”
[3:12:16 PM] I say; “Try candles, lotions, hot baths, kisses, rubs...”
[3:12:26 PM] He answers; “i know what I want but I go about it the wrong way. All of the time... sigh, I suck.”
[3:12:43 PM] I say; “And won't take advice from anybody, including me.”
[3:12:46 PM] He answers; “i guess im not sweet... Because I know the answers to me.”
[3:13:24 PM] I say; “pfft.”
[3:13:29 PM] He answers; “more than anyone else.”
[3:13:35 PM] I say; “pffft!”
[3:13:51 PM] I say; “I begin to think I understand you more than you understand you.”
[3:14:05 PM] He answers; “funny how all the people close to me say that.”

[3:14:21 PM] He answers; “but the funny part is... You all only observe my imperfections.”
[3:14:22 PM] I say; “At least, if you do know yourself very well, then you don't say what you know clearly at all.”
[3:14:37 PM] He answers; “Or the stuff I know myself to be the problem.”
[3:14:46 PM] I say; “Nobody talks about what a person does right unless it's a major thing]
[3:14:53 PM] He answers; “Agreed.”
[3:15:02 PM] I say; “Nobody is going to say "wow Crusifer, the way you pick your hair works so efficiently" or "wow Crusifer, the way you hold your pencil is superior.”.”
[3:15:08 PM] He answers; “Agreed again, hence y I don’t want help. cuz I know my imperfections I live with it
[3:15:42 PM] I say; “Instead, people say, "hey you shouldn't say it this way, you should say it that way, the way I would" But I'm not everybody else. I see the "fake" you and the "real" you on a regular basis.” I also meant to add that I also have to deal with his imperfections.
[3:16:15 PM] He answers; “so do I, but both are real.”
[3:16:25 PM] I say; “I know your every mood. I know what you'll say when you're happy, what you'll say when you're sad, what you'll sad when you're angry. I know what you'll do in all of those cases as well. I just don't understand what causes you to feel one way or another. That's the big mystery for me.”
[3:16:47 PM] He answers; “You know what ill do in the case of intoxication.”
[3:17:14 PM] I say; “I know how you'll behave given any emotion there is, but I just don't understand the causes. I seem to have little effect on you except but to make you angry.”
[3:17:35 PM] He answers; “And since you don’t know the cause how can you know how I’d react?”
[3:17:59 PM] I say; “Because once you feel a certain way, you generally stay in that mode for a while. Especially angry. Once your angry you're angry for at least two hours. Then you hate everybody and everything and no matter what I say it's a lie or it's an insult. When you're happy then I can do no wrong, and I'm cute and delicate and need to be kissed and loved.”
[3:19:41 PM] He answers; “yeah.... I suck.”
[3:19:52 PM] I say; “When you're sad you're quiet, you tend to want to draw, or eat or watch TV or sleep. When you're sad you get angry easily. And I'm powerless to cheer you up. Right now, I'd say you're sad. Of course, that's all very general. There is like a zillion different ways just to be angry, sad and happy. There is artistic-happy, and chillin-happy and so forth. But the point I'm trying to make is that I don't think you understand the causes very well either. I hear you say a lot that you "don't know why" you were so angry or whatever.”
[3:22:14 PM] He answers; “Listen...stop telling me what the fuck my problem is. I know what my problem is....i have a lot of stiff that I’ve been thru before I met u. stop acting like my life just started yesterday.”
[3:23:13 PM] I say; “And I say that I think I know you better than you know you because you do things that will result in a way that you won't like and you very well know that you won't like the result, but you do it anyway. Why would that be? Another question I can't answer. Now let's see, you've switched from sad to angry. I told you it's easy for me to make you angry, especially if you're sad. Now you think I'm playing you because you're angry. From here on out I'm either lying or insulting you.
“You see the helpless position this puts me in?? I'm left with nothing to do in this relationship except but to struggle and TRY to understand. But you get angry if I even mention my thoughts and conclusions. Well, excuse me for having concerns. Excuse me for studying the person I love.
“Why don't you study me for a change? How about you explain what makes me tick!?!? I’d be FLATTERED. Not angry!!! Why don't you tell me what I do when I feel a certain way”
[3:25:14 PM] He laughs and says; “bitch r you serious?”
[3:25:22 PM] I say; “Why don't you tell me what causes my moods? How come you're not studying me?”
[3:25:33 PM] He answers; “who the fuck cares if I can state your mood.”
[3:25:37 PM] I say; “If you loved me, wouldn't you be curious?”
[3:25:41 PM] He answers; “just knowing your mood is enough.”
[3:25:45 PM] I say; “Wouldn't you study me too?”
[3:25:47 PM] He answers; “You don’t think that I’ve tested you too. nigga please. I’ve been studying you since I met you nigga.”
I should have pointed out that one of the ways he tested me was by lying and telling me he’d slept with girls he hadn’t slept with just to try to make me jealous and let me go on believing it for months. What a nice little test.
[3:26:16 PM] I say; “Well, you're mad, so I don't know why I'm bothering. I'm a lying bitch as long as you're angry. I know that much. If you've been studying me then why don't you just prevent arguments?”
[3:26:37 PM] He answers; “Since the moment you changed your accent when me and your mom went to dinner the third night I came over I’ve been studying you.”
[3:26:40 PM] I say; “Why don't you just keep me happy all the time? I'm not THAT hard.”
[3:26:55 PM] He answers; “cause it is that fucking hard.”
[3:27:00 PM] I say; “It's not. I put everything I like out on the table.”
[3:27:08 PM] He answers; “u ask for so much, you cant do anything on your own.”
[3:27:16 PM] I say; “You always like something different and never tell me what you want. I tell you what I want all the fucking time.” I should have also said that I can do things on my own but that I prefer to be with someone I love while doing something, especially if they’re available.
[3:27:22 PM] He answers; “So the fuck what. what I like has never changed.”
[3:27:56 PM] I say; “So how can I be expected to make you feel good about me and our relationship if I never know what the hell you want? When you change your story all the time and never tell me when things have changed?”
[3:27:57 PM] He answers; “What you have wanted....has always changed since we met.”
[3:28:12 PM] I say; “Today it was okay to stop by and get kisses, last week it was the worst thing in the world. So I care! That's what. That's the fuck what. I fucking care. I fucking care. I FUCKING CARE. That's what!!! But I let you know though. I tell you what I want. I tell you when things change.”
[3:29:29 PM] He answers; “I fucking care too... I’ve been caring since I met you. But, I do like all kinds of things. All kinds of things!”
[3:29:54 PM] I say; “It's like Mort says, doing for each other creates love. Thinking about each other makes love. Talking makes love. Touching makes love.”
[3:30:11 PM] He answers; “And I do all of that for you. I’m sorry I don’t like talking all the fucking time.”
[3:30:54 PM] I say; “You don't want to talk. You have too many other things to think about. You never want to do anything for me or with me, and you don't let me know what to do for you. What's that leave? Sex. And I'm no good for that either! So let's analyze MY issues for a change. My ego can't handle this shit.”
“It makes ME feel angry when I can't cheer YOU up. I feel sad when I can't help you.”
[3:31:59 PM] He answers; “well sorry but sometimes a nigga can’t get cheered up.”
[3:32:00 PM] I say; “I feel like shit when there is nothing I can do for you. I feel useless when you don't want to see me. I feel replaced when you would rather do other things or be with other people. I feel unimportant when you need your alcohol and weed. I feel left out when you talk about your work day and tell me I can't even visit and don't introduce me to Mike or anybody you feel is important. I feel like a loser and like I'm being used when I go places by myself without you. I feel like I'm being manipulated when you have sex with me and then leave. I feel like and idiot for being honest when you call me a liar.
“Do you CARE about these things Crusifer?!?!? I feel like a gullible dick-whipped bitch when you walk away while I cry over us. I feel alone...”
[3:36:58 PM] He answers; “take now...bye bye then.”