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erikaThis is one of those entries that I know I'm going to write and I feel like everyone is going to read it and think "god, she really is crazy."
Skip all the parathetical statements if it pleases you; it's mostly me rambling about unrelated things. I can't edit my thoughts like I normally do, so I apologize in advance.
Sometimes I feel like the music I listen to is speaking to me. It's not, I do know that! It's unintentional, and any reaction I have to it is just... what's the word, I don't know, it's just finding meaning in unrelated events, there's a word for it but I don't remember it right now.
(It's not coincidence, orsynchronicity* serendipity, or any of those. I hate it when I can't remember—but I know I will, or someone will remind me, I hope. I just don't remember it right now.)
So I wrote an email to the guy I went on that not-a-date-really dinner with.panda provided a real service, in the true meaning of a friend, of verbally pinning me down until I agreed to do what I knew I should be doing anyway.
(She's planning on moving away; in a way it'll break my heart to see her leave, but I'm more glad than I can say that she's doing what she needs to do for her.)
Anyway, so the email I wrote was ... as nice as I could make it, while being terribly clear that it was a "fuck off without further notice" notice.
I have lots of reasons, but they make me sad, so I won't expound on them further; I have these ever-so-valid reasons and that's enough to be getting on with.
I've been avoiding his reply for the better part of the day; I was awake when the email came in at roughly 10:30AM and it's now exactly 4pm. (And I should really switch to military time, except that I never will, I know I won't.)
So I finally stop avoiding my email and this song is playing. Counting Crows, "Chelsea" is playing, and as I open it, the vocalist sings
Maybe in a month or two,
Maybe when things are different for me,
Maybe when things are different for you
And this song is so sad to me, primarily because I think the singer knows that it's most likely never going to be different, just like I know that.
it's good for everybody to hurt somebody once in a while
the things I do to people I love shouldn't be allowed
Double standards that I know so well.
In his email, he writes: "I understand. You don't want to hurt, and you don't want to hurt another."
I'd love to tell him that that's not entirely true, I love to tell people they're wrong, but I can't write back, so I'll say it here. It's not true because I always hurt, most of the time, close enough to always that always isn't a lie——and partially he's right.
It's true that I don't want to hurt someone else (again, over and over again)——I'm just so very tired of being that person who hurts other people, pretending I don't know it's going to happen and just letting everything go wrong.
I don't want to do it anymore. I have to give up some things, things I want, but not things I need, and maybe I can get them some other way, I don't know. I don't know anything right now except I don't want to do this dance anymore. I know what I do, and it feels as out of my control as if I were a siren, to watch as they crash helplessly on the rocks and all I can do is keep singing.
Save yourself, I told this one, and I shoved him back in his ship, and I hid, and now I sing to myself, and I tell myself it's better this way, for now.
I don't know what I'm singing, what glow, what allure they see in me that I never once saw in myself, but maybe—someday it would be nice if I knew it.
* Edited to add, 8/25/2012@approx1AM: In my original sentence above, I wrote the right word while thinking of one of the wrong ones (serendipity). The word I was looking for was actually synchronicity, one of the words I said wasn't right, whichpanda was able to point out.
Yeah, this entry was written when my head wasn't working quite right; fucking migraines & attendant aphasia.
Skip all the parathetical statements if it pleases you; it's mostly me rambling about unrelated things. I can't edit my thoughts like I normally do, so I apologize in advance.
Sometimes I feel like the music I listen to is speaking to me. It's not, I do know that! It's unintentional, and any reaction I have to it is just... what's the word, I don't know, it's just finding meaning in unrelated events, there's a word for it but I don't remember it right now.
(It's not coincidence, or
So I wrote an email to the guy I went on that not-a-date-really dinner with.
panda provided a real service, in the true meaning of a friend, of verbally pinning me down until I agreed to do what I knew I should be doing anyway.(She's planning on moving away; in a way it'll break my heart to see her leave, but I'm more glad than I can say that she's doing what she needs to do for her.)
Anyway, so the email I wrote was ... as nice as I could make it, while being terribly clear that it was a "fuck off without further notice" notice.
I have lots of reasons, but they make me sad, so I won't expound on them further; I have these ever-so-valid reasons and that's enough to be getting on with.
I've been avoiding his reply for the better part of the day; I was awake when the email came in at roughly 10:30AM and it's now exactly 4pm. (And I should really switch to military time, except that I never will, I know I won't.)
So I finally stop avoiding my email and this song is playing. Counting Crows, "Chelsea" is playing, and as I open it, the vocalist sings
Maybe in a month or two,
Maybe when things are different for me,
Maybe when things are different for you
And this song is so sad to me, primarily because I think the singer knows that it's most likely never going to be different, just like I know that.
it's good for everybody to hurt somebody once in a while
the things I do to people I love shouldn't be allowed
Double standards that I know so well.
In his email, he writes: "I understand. You don't want to hurt, and you don't want to hurt another."
I'd love to tell him that that's not entirely true, I love to tell people they're wrong, but I can't write back, so I'll say it here. It's not true because I always hurt, most of the time, close enough to always that always isn't a lie——and partially he's right.
It's true that I don't want to hurt someone else (again, over and over again)——I'm just so very tired of being that person who hurts other people, pretending I don't know it's going to happen and just letting everything go wrong.
I don't want to do it anymore. I have to give up some things, things I want, but not things I need, and maybe I can get them some other way, I don't know. I don't know anything right now except I don't want to do this dance anymore. I know what I do, and it feels as out of my control as if I were a siren, to watch as they crash helplessly on the rocks and all I can do is keep singing.
Save yourself, I told this one, and I shoved him back in his ship, and I hid, and now I sing to myself, and I tell myself it's better this way, for now.
I don't know what I'm singing, what glow, what allure they see in me that I never once saw in myself, but maybe—someday it would be nice if I knew it.
* Edited to add, 8/25/2012@approx1AM: In my original sentence above, I wrote the right word while thinking of one of the wrong ones (serendipity). The word I was looking for was actually synchronicity, one of the words I said wasn't right, which
panda was able to point out.Yeah, this entry was written when my head wasn't working quite right; fucking migraines & attendant aphasia.
