Give in to the night,
That thing called sleep.
But it seems the day is unfinished, and sleep cannot be so easily earned.
Been thinking lately how abstaining from talking may help writing, venting the inner conversation about things that need not be discussed, but simply transferred to paper (or blog), and developed further.
So lately I've been really touchy about the issue of 'appreciation,' about 'how much I have done for so-and-so' and how ungrateful they have been.
And it made me think about C, and how he seemed to run from all my 'help,' because it probably did come with strings attached, even if those strings attached no particular end, but only a particular person - me. Stay close to ME, they'd say, tying him in a web of an intimacy sought through favours that could not be returned, and should not be returned.
And it also made me realise that for a very long time, I may have been seeking to sell favours, for something unspoken in return. Sometimes I say I Joyful Girl, but other times I'm not so Ani diFranco about it. Hell even Ani diFranco isn't so selfless about it, if she needs to remind herself.
And sometimes I resent it so much, this sense that because of all this unsolicited giving, I've been taken for granted. Or worse that people see it, and don't want it anymore, favours that don't come for a named price, that make them feel weighed and sentenced to you on indefinite terms.
Fuck them.
I hate this children's-book mental image of the world, where it echoes back whatever you send forth.
"Fuck you, world!"
"Well, fuck you too, child!"
It's so hard to say the opposite when you're having one of those moments with the world.
"You're pissing me off right now, world, but it's not you, it's me. And someday soon, I will see you are all beautiful... It kind of evades me now."
Sounds like a break up.
Strangely at the same time there have been contemplations on commitment - on marriage and lowering expectations. And it makes an awful lot of sense that people are going to change and hate each other's guts, and what endures is something else than the passion which seems to be the only thing people associate with love these days. (These days, as if I had had incarnations of marital experience).
Well, Feck It. :P
Probably my most poorly constructed post ever, but Feck It too.
I Give In To Reading Which Gives In To The Night.
That thing called sleep.
But it seems the day is unfinished, and sleep cannot be so easily earned.
Been thinking lately how abstaining from talking may help writing, venting the inner conversation about things that need not be discussed, but simply transferred to paper (or blog), and developed further.
So lately I've been really touchy about the issue of 'appreciation,' about 'how much I have done for so-and-so' and how ungrateful they have been.
And it made me think about C, and how he seemed to run from all my 'help,' because it probably did come with strings attached, even if those strings attached no particular end, but only a particular person - me. Stay close to ME, they'd say, tying him in a web of an intimacy sought through favours that could not be returned, and should not be returned.
And it also made me realise that for a very long time, I may have been seeking to sell favours, for something unspoken in return. Sometimes I say I Joyful Girl, but other times I'm not so Ani diFranco about it. Hell even Ani diFranco isn't so selfless about it, if she needs to remind herself.
And sometimes I resent it so much, this sense that because of all this unsolicited giving, I've been taken for granted. Or worse that people see it, and don't want it anymore, favours that don't come for a named price, that make them feel weighed and sentenced to you on indefinite terms.
Fuck them.
I hate this children's-book mental image of the world, where it echoes back whatever you send forth.
"Fuck you, world!"
"Well, fuck you too, child!"
It's so hard to say the opposite when you're having one of those moments with the world.
"You're pissing me off right now, world, but it's not you, it's me. And someday soon, I will see you are all beautiful... It kind of evades me now."
Sounds like a break up.
Strangely at the same time there have been contemplations on commitment - on marriage and lowering expectations. And it makes an awful lot of sense that people are going to change and hate each other's guts, and what endures is something else than the passion which seems to be the only thing people associate with love these days. (These days, as if I had had incarnations of marital experience).
Well, Feck It. :P
Probably my most poorly constructed post ever, but Feck It too.
I Give In To Reading Which Gives In To The Night.
