Five Days

and still no word. What, if anything, I did wrong (besides being shy), I am still not sure. But my messages to her are returned with silence. This silence is punishing, whether she intends it as such or not. Normally a silence between she and I would not quake me so. This time I fear I have gone too far, or perhaps I didn't go far enough.

I ache for her and still no response. I'm sure she doesn't know. I know she doesn't know...

She has to know.

Oversexed and Under-fucked

Warning: this blog has just entered into the category of Off-Limits To My Folks.

As I was saying... oversexed and under-fucked, over-stimulated, switched on, turned on, hot, [insert colloquial euphemism here]- that's me. Tonight I find myself grinding all over the house to Missy Elliot's sexy beats and charming lyrics, doing my damnedest to translucently, shamlessly flirt with a sleeping friend, and trying hard not to think about recent encounters filled with sexual tension (however much I fail).

Mmmmm....I wish I had done differently our last hours together. What I would give...


*Edited to appease the Hyper One. :)

Student* Procrastinator

*Soon-to-be Professional (once I've graduated)

I have this adorable habit of pushing everyone away when I'm stressed. You see, it goes like this: E.G. gets extremely excited about an endeavor she is plans to engage in. She tells everyone in her life about it and makes them believe in her. In this regard, she propels herself towards her goals by setting herself up for success. Somewhere around the time of her original deadline to work towards accomplishing this goal, she puts it off. And then she puts it off some more. At this rate, she continues to shirk the deadline until the very last second, depending on her charm and quick wit to put her past the finish line. Usually she succeeds, but only with the all the stress and anticipation built up for months forcing her to comply with her own goals. It is in the final weeks (or days, hours) of this proces that she is most stressed out. She finds herself ignoring phone calls from friends and family to avoid the questions she knows they're going to ask.

Tonight, I have found myself with everyone in my life far beyond arms length. I want to cry out, vent, scream in someone's ear, blame anyone for my stress (but myself, of course). I want to have good news to report everytime I come up for air. I want some goddamn comfort, but know I will not find it anywhere outside of myself.

Come back, people. Don't let me give up on myself.

Recovered From a Lost Night

A few hours ago I had a perfect post for my site. It was about cutting oneself and how, in lieu of drugs, it is the perfect escape from pain. In fact, I was sitting on the couch tonight and, as usual, as I was thinking about desperate pain, the idea(r) (I'm from the South) of pain came into mind. I wondered (vaguely) where a single blade (strong enough to easily slice my delicate skin) was to help alleviate this urge. You have to understand, though, that before that, I thought about weed, and then coke, and then heroine (or anyother drug that would alter my mind to elimindate this dull aching within) to cure what ails me.

I've always wondered what it is about 'cutting' that attracts people to its power. And it is powerful. Don't let ignorance fool you. I didn't (thankfully) cut myself this evening. I just indulged in other substances (why, oh why, I'm posting this, I have no idea; this blog is now public) that served the same purpose. Cutting distracts you from whatever pain you're feeling. It's escapism in it's purest form. (Nevermind that escapism is not escapism, but avoidism. But anyway, it's all the same boat.) You ever heard about the guy who socks the virgin in the jaw before deflowering her? It's all about destracting from the pain. Not that I am a professional on the subject and I'm sure I have offended 2.6 people reading this, but just thought I'd offer it up all the same.

"Fluff" Is the Title of this Post

But you know how it goes; Girl meets Boy, They fall in love, Ex's be damned. Friend who introduced The New Pair now happy, but hurt over damned Ex.

No matter. Friend has Girlfriend to distract from pain. And a Dog to boot.

If this post makes sense to you then forgive me for making it so obvious. If not, kindly cease and desist. There's nothing to see here but a broken heart and a fresh baker's dozen of back-burner loves to complete the set.

[Sets glass of wine down and goes to bed]