Jan. 17th, 2008

blustocking: (Default)
No longer intrigued or disconnected from my own reactions, I've just grown tedious, bored with myself and night after night of facing the same pathetic and lonely demons. Is this the fucking predictable stereotype of a 30-year-old single woman?
My god, 30.

I can't stop thinking about someone who is not only not interested, at least not in a relationship, but is entirely wrong for me. This, after I've told them it wasn't a good match...and I meant it, I think. At the time. No, I'm pretty sure it isn't, but something is sticking...just can't stop thinking about a few things and all the rationalization in the world won't fix that. It's annoying, it's sad, it's incomprehensible, fingers and lips lying, over and again. I think it passes, keep busy throughout the day and then night comes and here I am again, hoping for some fucking break in the pattern. Something. Just someone to help me get through. I've never disliked nighttime this much, it's always been my favorite. But I've come home to an empty house enough. I've done that, been satisfied with that, felt strong with that enough. It's time for a change.

And it's time that is the real bitch here. Because I can't go back and undo something I didn't see coming, something stupid. Because I opened, melted, staining the carpet and he's too young, scared, and foolish to know any better. Because this person that I'd put off has put me off and I don't like being the losing party. No matter the face I put on, how I spin it, that's how it is, in the end. Time that won't move quickly enough to let it pass. Just chugging along. Amish. Stuck, patterned, disconnected. That is a horrible analogy and I apologize. But it's better than likening it to a fucking record, even if it is true.

I got my own off-campus private studio today.
That was good. But now I have to move out of the A&D building, which might require renting a truck, unless I want to carry my 5 1/2'x 6 1/2' painting there. Which I just might do. That'll be a sight. A tired, cold, frustrated girl hoofing it down Jayhawk Blvd with a massive painting of a coffin.

I have to be up in 7 hours, full day tomorrow. Still so much to do.
Feel gross. Fat.

May 2010

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