cold and broken hallelujah

Selfish, lost and unable to see the consequences of anything I have done or am doing. As I am typing this, a marriage is collapsing (possibly two...) and I am to blame. Little children cannot keep them hands to themselves, I suppose, especially not in a toy store. It is as if I ran through the store playing with every toy, and when I bored of their plastic, left them for dead in the center of the aisle. No matter if they happen to break or if one happens to trip over them, I have rid myself of their manufactured juvenility and thus hold no responsibility. Except that I am to blame. Of course. It does not matter that J and P have (had) the dream; wife, house, 2.3 brats to look after. One glare that lingered a little longer than it should have and they were mine... sinking into the abyss. I am where normalcy goes to die.

And it is not as if I intended it to get this bad. J and P were both something to do, nothing more. I was bored, they flattered me and I went with it. Do I regret having that last drink, grabbing his hand and letting him take me home? No (maybe?). It was fun, each time. I felt amazing, free, everything you are told not to feel because it is dirty and wrong and shameful and all of those words used to scare little girls into chastity... I felt it. Sorry, Mumsie Dearist: your little girl wasn't spending time drawing inspiration (ok, so maybe I was, in a way). No, I was too busy using my knees for what the Good Lord intended. Oops?

But now, J and P and the others... all of the others, I have lost track to exactly how many... will not leave me alone. Why is it impossible for men to see me as a one-night stand when it is clear that I have no actual interest in anything other than their cock? Why must they see me as something to be fixed? If I wanted to become a clone, I could. But I am having too much damn fun figuring this out on my own. I do not need their help (but of course, if the help comes in monetary form... or shoes... I will be happy to take it off your hands) nor do I really want it. J and P, however will not leave me alone. They intend to break me of my evil ways. Reform me, if you will. Despite they have their own lives to fix. With P, I do not matter as much. He is a great person... fucking brilliant and his connections are priceless. I can use P. But J? There is nothing there for me to even take. He does something with computers. I do not know jack shit about computers or technology or anything in the related field, nor do I care. He is not attractive. At all. And he is not fun to go out with. Why bother with him, I do not know. But he sure wants to be part of my life.

I use men. I am very aware of this. It is fun for me to see how much I can get away with. I will be the worst brat and still J and P keep coming back. If I actually had feelings for either, I would not use them. I would not want anyone to be on the receiving end of my manipulation.

I am just that damn good.

love is not a victory march

I am on the brink. Of what, I do not know. All I know is that I am there and I do not like it even in the slightest.

Danger, Will Robinson. I cannot stop moving. For the mere seconds I stop shaking, my mind is racing... so there really is no point in even attempting to stop.

This is not healthy.

I am completely sober and I feel like I have done a bad speedball. I hate speedballs to begin with. There is no reason, in my mind, to mix blow and speed. For me, whenever I had done one, I would have panic attacks not even an overdose on Xanax could quell. And I am not in a panic right now. But it could very easily become that. Just one thing could set me off and then BAM!

I am not healthy.
This is not right.
I should not be feeling this way.

This was my first Thanksgiving where I did not purge anything. I want to just shove my fingers down my throat and do it, but now there is no point. And, I do not really want to. If I did, it would be out of sheer habit.

By all accounts, I should be having a great evening. I had a fairly good day, baking with Lesley then doing the Thanksgiving thing; after which I watched movies and talked with B. But I am not.

I do not think it is the B situation. He is not a situation. I should not say that. But I am going to, for lack of better terminology. I know he is going to read this and I do not care. [B, if you are reading this right now, feel free to ask me about it later. I am an open book with you, punk]. He is good for me. He is nice, genuinely so. For some reason, I can trust him. I do not do not do not do not do not trust people. Ever. And he could fuck me over in a heartbeat. But I do not care. Maybe I am being reckless in taking down the wall with him. I probably am. B could be a psycho who is using me, just as I use everyone else. But I truly do not think he is. And if he is, he is better at it than me, so Mazel Tov. I am not good at talking to people. And I can talk to him. About everything. We have at least touched on some of the big ones: blowsmurfy, Patrick, my (hopefully, and I really do mean hopefully) former propensity towards attempting to out myself. And he is still here. This has never EVER happened before. I am a little thrown by it. This is so new for me. I feel like I am taking a major risk in doing this but B and I have only known each other for a month and we are close. Legitimately so. And we have fun hanging out, which I think is important. It is not always the serious stuff... Prime example: earlier on the phone, we were talking about Mumbai how atrocious it is that humanity still permits said acts to occur and I somehow jumped to Rubber Duckies (like for the bath). And it just made sense. He permits this... I do not know why. But it makes me happy and stuff. And last evening, just hanging out with him. We watched this great film that I had never seen and then just talked. And it was kind of perfect... I kept catching myself thinking "so this is what normal people do in the evenings... cool" and I am serious about it. I am being normal. And that is a little scary for me.

I am very discontent. I am holding my breath then gasping. I have forgotten how to breathe.

How can I forget how to breathe? It is the most basic of human actions, without breath... nothing. I am not intentionally trying to stop breathing but something in my head is keeping me from doing so and I have to remind myself to inhale/exhale. Sad. Pathetic, no? Perplexing, more so than anything else. Worrisome, obviously.

Patrick is taking off for LA Wednesday. Maybe I should go with him. The thing is, I know if I went with him I would not come back and nor would he. I do not really want to run away with him, I do not think. I just, right now, am so scared.

This is the first time in a long time I have not been in some sort of a relationship. WEIRD. Sucky, but needed. I need to work on being ok alone. It is not the end of the world to just be. It is actually healthy.

FUCK why can I not stop wigging? Fuck it. Fuck fuck fuckidy fuck fuck. Fuck it all.

I fucking need to get the fuck out of fucking here. Go underground for a while maybe? Figure out what I need and where to get it and just do it. No, I know what I need and I am not going to do that because I am better than that. But I need a replacement. And fast.

freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose

I'm kind of dying. The mind games, they're getting to me. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm too damn strong to let some washed-up pseudo publisher with a big dick and an amazing smile to get inside my mind. I'm doing no one but myself harm by dwelling on him. I can't have him and that is (or should be) that.

I don't like not getting what I want. I'm actually rather poor at it. I'd work on it, but who has the time?

_________________________________________

The semester is almost out. Hoodrats want me to come for a visit. I know I should... I just don't know if I want to. It shouldn't feel like an obligation to go see friends. I want to see Luke. I miss Luke. I miss Bean. And Mike. And Christine. And that's about it. I like other people there. I have friends there... I just don't really miss any of them.

Mike wouldn't be fun now, though. He has a legit girlfriend and loses all control around me. He'd refuse to see me, or he'd see me... we'd party... and there would be drama.

I'm kind of on a drama-free diet right now.

________________________________________

I don't feel well. I want to purge but I have nothing but tea in me. And I know I'd feel worse after. Shit.

At least I'm being somewhat rational.

I'll purge when I can swallow. Yes. Perfect.

tea and tears

My congressional candidate lost. Again. I feel like I'm in the same place as two years ago, except back then I had something to return to. Now... nothing.

So what if Barack won? Yes. A Democratic presidency. It's a great thing. We'll be able to acomplish so much legislatitavly, like SCHIP and inreased funding for public education.

I'm not excited.

_______


I'm actually really confused. I don't know where to go from here. No school. No job. I'm a glorified bum. If I had money, I'd be down in Florida with Michael. In my mind, I know he wants me. I know the second he sees me, he will fall in love with me all over again and will beg me to never leave his side. He will be my Knight in Combat Boots.

Except the second I step back from that dream, I know that I'm nothing more than a fun fuck to him.

And that's all I'll ever be.

and we lost... my thoughts on NJ-7

In the tidal wave of hope and change, we got lost. Confused. Scared. The mistakes made by Linda Stender's campaign last cycle were exposed and maybe even magnified in this year's go-around. And what do we end up with, after 2+ years of blood and tears for the 7th district...

nothing but a damn lot of should have, would have, could have.

Kudos to NJDSC for running a very comprehensive field program, capitalizing on Obama's focus on grassroots. It brought in volunteers for Linda, under the guise of helping the top of the ticket. Once they were in, we helped them fall in love with her, cleverly pointing out that there's no point in having a Democrat in the White House if we don't have a Congress we can work with (i.e. SCHIP). The field team was composed of the most talent I've seen in a long time, with Jorge Santos and Travis Levitt at the reins. Sold red towns were canvassed (Clark, Warren) with the sole purpose of maintaining a presence even in areas that had no hope. Each organizer, responsible for their towns, created a comprehensive plan and established a volunteer base previously unseen in the district.

And now for what went wrong...

Emily's List. Two words to fuck a campaign sideways with an ice-pick. Yes, they enabled Heather DeJong to raise ridiculous amounts of money, but that came with a major caveat. They controlled the message. In a year when the economy was the number one, two, three & four issue for a strong majority of voters, the last six weeks were spent talking about reproductive rights. Unacceptable. I'm just as pro-choice as the next person, but when you're running against a candidate who successfully played himself off as a moderate on choice... not a good move. In addition, E-List pushed very strongly for the hiring of Irene Lin as communications director. Lin came with an impressive resume but not much to back it up. When you're given full control over a campaign's message and you turn the focus away from what the rest of the candidates are talking about, you don't deserve to cry as the returns come in.

Mismanagement and fear perpetuated by the broken wheel in the finely tuned machine is purely what E-List has become for Linda.

She deserved so much more than a second chance at failure.