Which direction will you point your arrow?
...Have mercy, archer...

Last night was spent in the company of Selaith, Tsarnen, and Mists. We did coffee... the Scott did me, somewhat, although not as much as I was hoping at the time and a bit more than I should have had, in retrospect. I need to call the doctors... someone, please, remind me on Wednesday DURING THE DAY to call them. I need to go in for a CAT scan and some bloodwork and to the urologist. Anyway.

I ended up with a collar around my neck.

And yes, this is NOT normal for me, and NOT healthy for me.

Part of it was that it seemed that side of me was needed. Part of it was the lingering fear that if I had NOT had that part of me out, the same thing would have happened, but to some portion that couldn't handle it. And part of it was simply me trying to balance out, to see if maybe getting the shit kicked out of me metaphorically would be enough to snap everything into focus. Hell, I've tried just about everything else at this point.

My obsession... gods. There's a story and a half there but it's his to tell if he ever wants to, and I'll keep quiet, other than to say that I'm a happy Jax when it comes to him, again. Things worked out. They always do. And I can definitely understand his reasons and motives. *wry grin*

I'm missing Kadin a lot, all of his aspects, all of him. I'm missing Caleb a lot, I hear his voice and see him online sometimes but I'm so used to having him HERE that his absense is really eating at me. I don't mention it often - take note here - the stuff I mention rarely is sometimes the most important. It's hard to talk about. I didn't think it would be this bad, I thought that I was so used to missing Kadin and Nick and Alex, Arrasto and Daris and Hida, that missing Caleb would just be one more thing.

It's so very not.

It's like a piece of my soul that I hadn't even really realized was there got ripped away, and every day it hurts just a little bit more. I want my Caleb. *sighs*

I'm really tempted to get stoned. To take pills. Something, anything, to try to block out reality again. I looked back over my recent entries though, and you know what? I've been doing that a LOT. Blocking everything out, that is. Denial, anger, frustration, hurt, confusion... all those emotions and reactions swirling around, and me trying to fight them off or draw them in with little white pills and tall cups of cold alcohol and sometimes a pipe full of sweet green and smoke... not good.

So.

I'm still working on three projects: The Breaking, the new story, and the Explanation, which I have decided not to link to from here. The few people who need to know or really want to know... *shrugs* ...ask me. I'll show you, perhaps. But I don't think this really needs to be public.

And yes, this being me, I am quite likely to change my mind in a heartbeat.

...Eros...

It amazes me how aroused I can get from simple things. Music. The hushed whispers of wind against the window. Remembering things... words... sounds... Daris growling, Kadin begging, Caleb panting quietly, looking up... Mists, his hands in my hair... Tammuz, that mask, the scarf, sensations and sound... my world is built on a foundation of sex and words and music, I think. Take away any of those three and I would just crumble into nothingness.

Which is kind of sad. Although everyone bases their lives on something... for a lot of people, it's religion, or their families, or their job, or school. Their friends... their hobbies... and I suppose words and sex could be considered hobbies. Music... now that's more of a drug. *wry grin*

Funny realization - funny if you're in my head anyway - even when I stop taking the drugs the doctors give I still have my own collection. And I still take my own private drugs religiously, fiercely, without any hesitation or shame, really.

From where I'm sitting I can watch Eamon hauling wood into the upstairs. There's a stove/fireplace there, and all winter it's kept running. It cuts down on the heating bill up there by quite a bit. *shrugs* Wish the fireplace down here didn't smoke so much... I could just keep that going.

Then again, me alone around a fireplace for hours on end might not be the smartest plan.

Took a drive up the coast for the first time
Where the cities are few and far between
Found redemption
The street signs bearing my name
And direction
The last thing on my mind
'Cause I failed once again for believing
And in faith I began to drive
I left my home in search for a feeling
That I lost
Well it must have died
I must have died
'Cause I've been feeling uninspired
Battered and
Broken
Tired
'Cause there's many things I've never learned
Or even decided
If I'm ready to serve...

I started writing this at 3:30... it's 3:50 now. Twenty minutes to even squeeze out this much. It bothers me sometimes, how little I can actually get out when there's so much I want to say. It confuses me, since some days everything just spills out, I couldn't stop it if I tried, and all I can do is hope that it fits on the page and that maybe when my fingers stop blurring the lines between thought and speech and writing that maybe then it'll stop hurting so much...

'Cause I've been feeling uninspired...

I remember being at the house over in northeast, living there with Rie and Forrest, Acorn and Rai too for a while. Listening for hours to Alanis Morissette and Meredith Brooks and eventually lots of Yes thanks to Forrest. It's coming to mind because "Thank U" is playing on WinAmp now, loudly, and my memories of that time are flooding in.

I remember walking around naked and not being ashamed, not being anything except occasionally aroused and definitely comfortable. I remember the ickiness in the attic, and I remember being amazed by how beautiful people could be in the morning. I remember going out to the Beaterville Cafe, which if you are ever in Portland in the morning you MUST track down, it's in NorthEast on Killingsworth, just west of Interstate on the right-hand side if you're coming from Interstate. *grins* Get the home fries. They rock.

I remember eating sausage, and no one in the house would touch it except me, and I only ate it 'cos I was craving it. Pregnant. Confused. But somehow happy. It all seemed ok, then, even with the confusion and the problems. It all seemed... like everything would work out, somehow. And it did, at least so far.

Bittersweet Symphony. Venus In Furs. Where Is My Mind. Music and music and music until I am drowning in it and I can no longer worry about the present... all my good memories seem to be parctically tripping over one another to come out, right now. It's very strange.

I can remember how it felt to actually be going to COLLEGE.

I can remember how it felt when Al-X dropped to his knees in the middle of the Portland airport.

I can remember how it felt when Kadin climbed into the van, looked over at me, and all I could think was that finally he was here. That my boy was home.

I can remember the way I felt with my head resting on Drake's legs, being petted, listening to his stories and being amazed that there was someone stranger than I was.

I remember getting the Giant Pikachu.

I remember being tipsy on plum wine.

I remember feeling a knife slipping under the collar of my shirt and pressing against my skin, not cutting, not pricking, just teasing and gods, his eyes watching me were the most comforting things in the world.

I remember Philo.

I remember how it felt when I sat for hours in a coffeeshop, talking with Caleb, and feeling safe and content. Purring.

I remember the bondage swing in the back room of Blood Moon.

I remember playing pirates with my sister.

I remember...

*shakes her head, sighing softly* I remember a lot of things, and now the good memories are starting to fade, the others making their presence known, and now I'll stop writing about them. I want to hold on to the happiness that I feel right now, even if it's a bit tattered and frayed it's all I've got and I don't want to let it go. I don't have enough happiness lately.

I have Photoshop stuff to write up, and I am procrastinating. I started it earlier, but... ick. My head is so not being productive and helpful. I think I'll go read diaries for a while. Or something. Ehh.