the irony is killing me
posted on February 20, 2010 at 12:11 pm by Khali
As if life weren’t complicated enough… It seems that every time I sit down, or turn around, or even think about doing something for myself for a change, the world hands me a pile of extra shit to deal with. It’s like “oh, you’re stressed? Well, I think you can handle THIS too!” and shovels all sorts of crap at me. Right now, suffice it to say that I’m finding life to be a bit overwhelming. I have a list and its longer than I will get into here but it can be borken into categories.
School: The list of all the little things I need to do is shorter now, there are only 2 things left and one is proving to be an extreme pain in the arse. Moving: the how, where, when and what of that is all up in the air and that makes me anxious. Not the least of which is how to get the cats over there with the minimum angst. Teenager and her particular curve ball at this moment (which is the source of my toxic irony). I have that image of Jack Bristow in Alias staring Vaughn down and saying “One thing you’re not, is wise,” before turning and stomping off to save his daughter. Then there is J and his health and my inordinate tendency to worry. And then there’s work.
Fuck… I need a holiday.
In your mind theres no time and a constant buzz…
posted on October 7, 2009 at 10:24 am by KhaliYou believe in what nobody else does
In your mind theres no time and a constant buzz
So disregard the master plan
It’s a disaster man you better ride it out
I can see it all in your eyes
Your future fades, your minutes are few
When the angels make contact with you
You believe in what nobody else does
And things ain’t the way they was
A fool like you is a freak to me
It’s unique to me, what you seek to see
I can see it all in your eyes
Your future fades, your minutes are few
When the angels make contact with you
I’ve seen the future isn’t pretty
Killer instinct, love a surprise
Make a stop, build a fire
Hold you breathe, cover your eyes
The tides are turning crimson
Nightfall growing like a cancer
Feeding on your broken body
Isolations not the answer
Listen what the wind says softly
Sound of traffic, smells like paper
Kisses on your worried eyelids
Sleepless nights turn into vapor
Like a dream and as the crow flies
Must reject the pain your trapped in
Give me all your hard earned beauty
Now I’ll tell you what will happen
Your day will fade and your thoughts will jade
And you’ll wake up in the middle of a dream
Coming up on hard luck, with a moment of silence
And no time to kill, no reason to care
Beware
I can see it all in your eyes
Your future for a dime, anytime
I can see is all in your eyes
Your future for a dime, anytime
I can see it all in your eyes
Your future for a dime, anytime
Your future fades, your minutes are few
When the angels make contact
[When Angels Make Contact - Matt Mays]
So what if she wakes late on weekends, at least she waits until after noon to pour her first drink. At least she cleans the litter box and and does the dishes from the night before before she settles into her chair with her drink and her book. This is all she wants, really. Time to do a little escapism into the realms of fantasy, time to be creative. It seems nowadays she needs more time that usual to unwind from the trial of the week: work. She used to like it, but when the addition of more responsibilities the joy has gone out of it and it’s become one giant demand of her resources. The status of her relationships have suffered recently and that has also stressed her out. By the time saturday rolls around she is exhausted.
She has to take time to think. It takes more time now but she thinks she can answer his question. He can’t get her out of his mind because enough time has passed for things to become idealised, and ideals are hard to live up to; hard to destroy. They never had enough time for things to pass from perfect into the mediocre that marks most relationships. All either of them have left is the passion and the tragedy. A sense of unfinished business. She ponders why this is; how it’s nearly impossible to lay the whole thing to rest. Maybe even how it might be best the way it is. Human frailty at its best. She sips and sighs. She knows that reality has moved them too far apart for anything to happen between them; they have both moved on. But there is a part - and she closes her eyes when she thinks this: there is a part of each of them that exists, perhaps in another reality, together. She cannot deny their affect on each other and she likes this thought, tucks it away to examine later. For now, she thinks it might be enough that they are a part of each others lives, whether they speak or not. They are part of each other because their time together helped forge who they are now. That kind of history makes thier current partners uncomfortable because they can’t live up to the tempestuous nature of what happened during said history. Not that either of them expect thier partners to even try. She respects the others enough to leave it alone, even though, like him, she feels a desire, now and then to reconnect. To re-examine, to maybe even make sense of all that happened… and so she writes. And writes….
hello, 2009
posted on January 6, 2009 at 7:27 pm by Khali
The new year is upon us and tradition begs a recap of the previous year and resolutions for the next. Since it’s ankle-deep in rain outside I’ve been spending a lot of time indoors listening to it drown out the sound of the traffic and thinking.
In a nutshell, 2008 had a few more lows than it did highs and as a result I spent a lot of time hibernating. No more of that in 2009 I tell you. I’m going to do my best to thwart the evil procrastination monster that has taken over my life. I need to find out why I do it and then stop. Procrastination and compulsive lying. I find things coming out of my mouth lately that are complete bullshit and I shock myself. When did that start? it’s a recent thing, but totally silly, like I can’t admit that I don’t know certain things for whatever reason and I have to stop that (and I know I can because I did it for a brief period in junior high, it’s just a matter of being more aware). I’m well on the way, but it’s work! “Do you know how to fill out that report?” “Oh yeah” and there I am thinking WTF just came out of my stupid mouth? Jeebus. If I’ve done it to you, I apologise.
I think also, that I may change careers. In 2008 I learned that I am not made to be a boss. At least not yet. I can’t seem to wrap my mind around being an authority figure and it’s starting to tell here. (Ok, having several employees just up and leave does nothing for the self esteem either, even though they were unrelated to my managing style - which up until now has been “oh I can do that tomorrow” …see? stupid.)
And then there is the field of relationships. One could call that a minefield, actually. I’ve been thinking rather hard and deep about that particular sphere of late for myriad reasons.
I think the human heart is a peculiar animal. In fact, it really is much like an animal, operating on the most base of instincts. It likes the things that give it pleasure and despises the things that cause it pain. it craves attention from those it deems important in it’s life, be it parent, sibling or partner and when it does not get the attention it feels it deserves, it will do things to get it back, and sometimes even go to extremes of bad behaviour to get it and so end up tangled in a knot of it’s own making which causes said heart more pain than it would otherwise have experienced (if it had only listened to it’s counterpart).
But thankfully the human heart is not left to its own devices. It has the aide of the mind. Of course, the mind has to work overtime sometimes not to be overruled by the blind reflexes of the heart, and is often overwhelmed by raw emotion, but it can shed perspective on the behaviours of itself, and of others to help guide the heart to actions and reactions that affect deeper and more positive relationships.
I’m working now for one of those deeper and more positive relationships.
Happy New Year.
listening to: the endless rain
reading: The Dragonbone Chair - Tad Williams
word count: you’re looking at it
eating: chili
drinking: pepsi and wishing there was rum in it (but where’s the rum gone?)
feeling: small
headspace: thoughtful
