#live 27.4.24 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hegeso · 1 month

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26.4.24

one of the things that brings me the most pleasure right now, living at this house, is watching passersby from my window or from the porch. they stop, lift up onto their toes, and sniff the wisteria that hangs over the sidewalk.

the scent is a bit floral for my tastes, but it’s such a small joy to witness.

d– asked me for help naming her daughter today. i’ve never felt so honored or like i was doing something so special. to have a part in naming a child…someone else’s child…i’m capital-I Important to someone.

not much else of note. would like for something dramatic and positive to happen to me. would appreciate a bit of entertainment.

27.4.24

i’m in danger if n– keeps saying shit to me about me understanding him and him never feeling cared for in that way before

what the fuck

and him saying he wants to rest his head on me somewhere

and that my voice that was never sharp softens and smooths still at the edges when i talk to him like that

it is a heart squeezing feeling

and i feel dumb

but i’m just being honest with him?

28.4.24

yesterday i had p– promise not to write a song about me. he started a few while we were together, but they either turned into something not for me, or were left unfinished. he cried and asked, “even if it’s about good things?”

i said yes. then i relented and said he could write them, just not record them.

i don’t want to know about it if he does.

29.4.24

half asleep but just trying to get something out of me

in high school, my therapist was the coolest lady ever. i wanted to be like her. she had me sit on her couch and would push me to cry, yell, rage. she would call me out on my shit, swear, and voice the things i was feeling for me. i was struck then, by her, by her confidence and by her shamelessness. she saw what i was doing to myself and that it was hurting me.

in my adolescence i quickly learned that expressing my emotions or asking for things was not allowed. at home, asking for anything, wanting anything–guilt. wanting at home meant i was ungrateful, and the line for what was “too much” shifted moment to moment. at school, wanting too much would mean i was overly competitive, trying too hard, was too emotional.

in the first grade, i got to choose from the treasure box. there was a heavy bracelet with soccer charms on it. i don’t know why, but i had to have it. another girl wanted it too. i don’t remember what happened, but i ended up with it in the end, and i felt guilty. was i talked to by the teacher? did i snatch it away from the girl, and did she cry or tell me i was mean? i still have that bracelet, and i still carry that guilt with me.

another time, younger than first grade, my aunt dana took me to toys-r-us to pick something out for my birthday. i remember that whatever the first thing i wanted (not understanding money or anything like that) was a no-go. dana blew up at me. i felt embarrassed and ashamed for picking out the toy i wanted for my birthday. dana died soon after, and i held on to that guilt. i told my dad about it recently, and he said that sounded like her, that his baby sister wasn’t exactly a good person. hearing that didn’t do much to erase the feeling.

my therapist gave me homework: write a list of things that i wanted. just for myself. not things for anyone else, or that i wanted to do or be for anyone else. she wanted me to be selfish. i don’t remember what i put on my list back then. but now is the time to practice again:

i’m tired, and as i’m soon to fall asleep, i want to be lying in bed next to n–. i want to be held. i want him to hold me. i want my back to be scratched. i want my hair to be pet. i want my face to be touched. i never had that, i was always the one to do the holding and the gently caressing and the rubbing of tired shoulders. i’m fucking sick of that, i’m so angry at p– for never holding me, even when i asked. –even when i asked! i felt like a leech, some small pesky parasite, something unacceptable and all he ever did was take and accept and would never respond to my bids for any kind of closeness. i want to be held and hugged so tight i can hardly breathe, i want to close my eyes and feel enveloped, entangled, and just sleep. i want to take enough in order to have something to give again. i want closeness. i want to feel safe. i want to have a big head about some things. i want to admit to myself that i have some gifts beyond what is average. i don’t want to believe this makes me insufferable, egotistical, full of myself, delusional. fuck! fuck everyone who has ever triedd to stamp me out. fuck anyone who has seen who hard i try and had punished me for it. i want to be corny and say nice things about myself, like that i can really shine. i want to use rare compliments as fuel.

but i’m afraid because i’ve formed an attachment.

i feel as if i’m about to fail a test. i’m afraid that i’m just another person. i’m afraid of being significant. i’m afraid of being insignificant. i’m afraid of being stunted. i need to take a break for a few days before i really try to write my feelings into anything, but this is just for me. i like n–. i think we have all the makings of the most beautiful friendship. my “like” or “attraction” to him isn’t the same as a simple crush, it’s like how a chain of amino acids forms a complete protein. i don’t know how else to extend this metaphor right now. aminos are really fucking cool, they’re essential for life, they each have their own purpose, and you’re telling me if you stick enough of them together, they form a protein????????????????? what the fuck!!!! life is amazing!!! but it’s like! i’ve got all those different amino-feelings with their different amino-feeling functions and squish them all together and it becomes a hearty fucking protein called love, but it’s a complete protein–aaaghh, shut the fuck up

anyway. it’s a complex group of feelings that together seem like they’ll be whole, well-rounded, sustaining.

i want to monopolize his time. i want to be a star. that’s not right, that’s not good enough, no…a star is transfixed, far away, something to look up at

what do i really want to be? i’m afraid of not being anything. i’m afraid of having to cry alone. do i want to be happy? do i want to be a force to reckon with?

this flirtation is perverse. it’s enthralling. how do i be honest about this shit?

i feel scared i feel scared i feel scared i want to cower and hide and rot away and this is how i will fail my tests. ok maybe never mind. maybe he actually is flirting with me.

need to really think about these feelings, and if i will be too stupid to accept them.

no matter what, i refuse to get lost in someone. i’m not playing that shit anymore. i think the damage to my soul would be irreparable if that happened again. i’m refusing to stay stuck in place for anyone else, ever again. i think if n-- felt similarly to how i do, he would meet me halfway, take my hand, and we’d walk forward together.

1.5.24

smoking half cigarettes

sitting in the cold, alone, on the porch swing

division street is peaceful at midnight. it’s may first. my heart feels heavy.

puncture wound on my right hand, swollen, angry.

i learned how to wash blood out of clothes when i was eleven

cold water, bar soap. if the blood dries, it stains. i’m comforted by the smell of metallic water as it washes off the fabric and goes down the drain.

pale glass pools

saturday crosswords

prone/prostrate

3.5.24

i look forward to greater health

girlhood, womanhood, personhood, etc.

can’t really relate. only in dreams. only in small moments with cherished friends. n– is the only one who can call me a girl. i’ve decided that i’m going to let him see parts of me that i’ve never shown anyone else.

when we met. 恋の予感. was that what i knew then? the same kind of knowledge i had the first time i ever saw m–.

5.5.24

i’ve been thinking a lot about who i’ve been, specifically this horrifically fragile/wounded version of me at age 20. i want to take care of her. i think i have to reach her somehow, deep within my mind or in dreams and help her to heal. she was injured, but i’m the one left with scar tissue. she feels completely isolated from me. where is she? it’s so sad.

1.5.2020

i think i spend my life aching to run away to a place where i will experience an entirely new moment, one that doesn’t remind me of anything i’ve ever experienced before. sometimes i can’t decide if everyone is always running away or always staying stuck in place. maybe everyone wants to get away from everything they’ve grown up feeling and all the lives and lies and thoughts and impressions and empty ideas they’ve ever had and maybe everyone stays caught up in those same things forever and ever. nobody ever moves forward or runs somewhere or stays in place because there is no such thing. there is only existing, existing now. all we do is shift the orientation of our axes in ways that seem like we are moving, progressing, changing. we are fixed points in space within a shape that moves around us. we are always in the same positions, our distances in relation to others never change and never have. new and past relationships don’t exist. a relationship always has existed between and amongst all people within society or a universe where everything seems so still yet on this planet we are hurling at speeds immeasurable and incomprehensible to the human mind. internally, daily, there is loudness and motion and seasickness and planetsickness and homesickness but in the presence of the Everything Else we are still, we do not move, we are fixed in space and in time and will never make any more impact than the acknowledgement that something was there. to have a concept, a paradoxical-contradictory-contrasting concept as stillness versus motion, mattering and not mattering, importance and unimportance is something to feel amazement at. awestricken by the wondrousness of something as simple as the fact of a simple being inhabiting a tiny rock blinking in and out of orbit. we are allowed to have big thoughts and wonder and ask questions and feel curiosity. that the Everything Else is allowed the same things too. and perhaps that is where heaven and hell come from? not good and evil. no one has ever agreed about that. what we’ve been missing: stillness and motion, heaven is still, hell is not. and that’s the entire point to a lot of it. nothing ever moves but things do move around. fixed points on rotating, polydimensional axes.

#n #p #d #s #drivel #m

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