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thehefnerI got me a ticket for the 10:30 showing of Spider-Man 2 at the Uptown Theater. I'll be going with Betsy, a fellow intern here. Can't wait!
Also, I finally got my clay pipes in the mail. Like, two feet long pipes, the kind Aragorn and Bill the Butcher smoke. Can't wait to bust one of them out with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fiveseconddelay next time I see him.
I'm at Studio right now, and pretty soon Serge is gonna come down here and tell us what the hell we're gonna be doing today. I don't want to be here today. I want to be at home or writing in my novel or doing something other than menial labor that doesn't occupy my mind. Work that allows my mind to wander freely to certain matters that still annoy or hurt or bother or confuse or frustrate me, even still.
I've been feeling rather like shit recently. Everything's been feeling... broken. Between my father, my mother, my grandmother, and even my friends... it's like, all the illusions have been stripped away, and even those who I thought were pillars of strength, people whom I thought are still ok, no matter the problems... even those people are broken.
There's so much I wish right now. But wishing won't make any of them happen, so there's no point in going into that here. A large part of me wants to, but it's that part I've always tried and often failed to resist, the part that wants to be open and share things with everyone.
I need to go back to Al-Anon. I need to find a meeting and go. Maybe my father is at the root of all this. Or maybe just going to those meetings again will help with everything else. I stopped for two reasons. 1.) There were no meetings in Chestertown. It's ridiculous, how do they have an AA but not an Al-Anon? And 2.) I didn't believe the alchohol created the monster, I believed my father was the monster, and the alchohol just added venom to his already sharp fangs. And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to lose hope even then.
I hope I'm not turning into a cynical, grouchy, bitter person. Hell, I hope I'm not already one. My mother sure thinks I am, and her telling me so in such a manner that she wants me to snap out of it really doesn't help matters. I love you Rudes, but sorry guys, I don't want to take on certain of those aspects that have hardened you.
Whup. Time's up. Time to go back to work.
Also, I finally got my clay pipes in the mail. Like, two feet long pipes, the kind Aragorn and Bill the Butcher smoke. Can't wait to bust one of them out with
fiveseconddelay next time I see him.I'm at Studio right now, and pretty soon Serge is gonna come down here and tell us what the hell we're gonna be doing today. I don't want to be here today. I want to be at home or writing in my novel or doing something other than menial labor that doesn't occupy my mind. Work that allows my mind to wander freely to certain matters that still annoy or hurt or bother or confuse or frustrate me, even still.
I've been feeling rather like shit recently. Everything's been feeling... broken. Between my father, my mother, my grandmother, and even my friends... it's like, all the illusions have been stripped away, and even those who I thought were pillars of strength, people whom I thought are still ok, no matter the problems... even those people are broken.
There's so much I wish right now. But wishing won't make any of them happen, so there's no point in going into that here. A large part of me wants to, but it's that part I've always tried and often failed to resist, the part that wants to be open and share things with everyone.
I need to go back to Al-Anon. I need to find a meeting and go. Maybe my father is at the root of all this. Or maybe just going to those meetings again will help with everything else. I stopped for two reasons. 1.) There were no meetings in Chestertown. It's ridiculous, how do they have an AA but not an Al-Anon? And 2.) I didn't believe the alchohol created the monster, I believed my father was the monster, and the alchohol just added venom to his already sharp fangs. And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to lose hope even then.
I hope I'm not turning into a cynical, grouchy, bitter person. Hell, I hope I'm not already one. My mother sure thinks I am, and her telling me so in such a manner that she wants me to snap out of it really doesn't help matters. I love you Rudes, but sorry guys, I don't want to take on certain of those aspects that have hardened you.
Whup. Time's up. Time to go back to work.
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Date: 2004-06-30 08:05 am (UTC)Stephen will be born sometime in the next few weeks, after all! :)
Holding a brand new baby for even a few minutes can often (at least temporarily) cure whatever ails ya. So, I invite you and everyone else - including Mr. Cats - to share my sunshine after he arrives.
Then maybe things won't seem as dark anymore.