The Case of the Cheerful Masochist
I remember when I was so incredibly infatuated with horses. It's a pretty standard stage, I guess. I never had a horse, but I rode horses a few more times than anyone else in my family did, which seems to be about none. What's this have to do with anything? I have no idea. I just remember this image of going into the neighbors' yard so that I could pet the nose of this horse which I named Buttercup and felt it was mine, even though I never met the owner, never got any closer than fingers through the chainlink fence. I guess I felt that connection because I believed I was closer to some kind of natural wavelength because the family myths about me were those kind of things. I was the girl who could make the Oujia go, who talked to plants, who prayed for roadkill and I figured all my life that was who I was. And it is who I am, but, it's strange that if they told different stories, if it hadn't been impressed on me that it was odd, but okay...maybe I'd be unhappy and changed somehow.
I like my myths. I know they're myths and I'm a disaster, personally, and maybe just a little more attuned to emotions, but I like that my family saw to it that I had a purpose, that my kindness had meaning and reason to be cultivated. I wasn't meant to obscure myself with someone's concrete weight and shape and assurances. I have to find my own way, get my own horse, believe.
Why has Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes followed me the fuck around today?
I'm just really happy that Leo has broken through and I don't have to feel so low.
Okay, some odd things that happened today. Everyone in my Mod. Women Authors class is gettng married. WTF?! They're all chatting about it and I was envious, sorta. I thought about the universe aligning for them. I thought it was nice that they have it all sorted out now. And that that day will pass, just like this day will pass in a few short minutes and then the 25,000 dollar wedding's over and then there's life. An epoch's over. I don't know. I don't want it for myself. I want just the fun of feeling myself alive with another person before braiding our hair together, but it's just another thing that I'm behind on.
I read some of the old entries and I worry that my whole life is a broken record to everyone else, but I'm still not getting the clues. The universe seems to be telling me something but it's in tongues and I can't figure it the fuck out. What's procedure?
So I'm thinking about this weekend. I'm thinking about how I can do something meaningful with regards to change before graduation. That's only a few short months. I hate that about fifty times I've posted this here. I don't know. It seems like a good, short, carefully proscribed amount of time to do something and that I'd like to feel amazing at that party, to feel a strong forward moving energy as I leave school. I wanted to manage it, naturally, and I think it'll never be natural, never not be a struggle.
I just want to scream about it, because I feel broken somehow, at least when I start doing the stupid dance of comparing myself to other people. That I wouldn't do anything different if someone was here, but I could feel different. Less like I was off the rails.
Does it come down to simpler questions? That maybe if I was nicer, prettier, and talked to them, that boys'd like me?
I'm worried that when I do meet someone, when I'm settled, I'm going to be a really scary whorey girl because this shit has to build up somehow. I mean, I'm talking full-blown hospitalization and that's IF he lives through the night.
Like a fucking supernova, three bright lights and then scarring, stabbing blindness. Red heat of the sun.
I feel like I'm walkin' round with a shotgun and I'll just keep shooting until something drops.
