A Silent Tear

Still lacking energy, but need therapy, blog therapy. I'm sad, sad enough to cry, but I can't cry. The World Wide Web says sadness is when you get the feeling of your gut being torn out, and yes that is how it feels. It feels like you don't want to do anything else, like this thing is going to cloud the rest of your life. I've been there, and I know I never wanted to be there again. A lot of sadness going round, one of my best friends loses her dad, that's sad too. I feel so lost, like the chimp whose mother died when it was age 3, who rocked himself to sleep every night after that.

Sadness is so silent, so invisible, so untangible. I remember thinking how nice it was when I was 6, I thought sleeping was a waste of time. Now I think sleeping is necessary, it is the one place where you can dream of another world, perhaps for six hours, but six hours of happiness nonetheless.

So I'm here, not knowing what to do anymore. I am just going to throw all this sadness to a Higher Power. He should know what to do. So many memories, it feels like I'm going to be sick. But I cannot, I have to be silent, invisible, no more tears. They have to stay inside.

Me and my thoughts

I've been away. For plenty of reasons. One is lack of energy, another is I just stare into space and cannot get myself to type. What can I type. I am in utter confusion but it had to be done. Still cannot (and probably will never ever) understand this thing about reciprocal love. Love until it hurts, but love with your brain not your heart... so many things i've heard lately. It all reminds me of the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz. Now I hate The Wizard of Oz and Dorothy (what a dumb name) with her patent dolly shoes, but i had this posted on the wall when I was a little child. It was the Tin Man saying, "But once I had a heart, and a mind also, and having tried them both I'd much rather have a heart." I do not know if what I am doing is correct, it must be because everybody says so. Had there been one person who was in disagreement.... but there's not even half a one.

It's sad when you look back and think; so much energy wasted, so many feelings having been unplugged and sucked violently down the drain. I need support now more than ever, but I am a strange being, I don't like being hugged, so there's not going to be much physical support. I could have let things like they were, but then I would have woken up as a 50 year old, bitter and kicking myself for not having acted.

As always of course there have been good times. And bad. It's always like that. It is still difficult to do what I am doing, but I know there is someone up there who is watching... and if I am in default, then he will keep his promise of watching over me, and give me a sign. Anything to make me feel less like Stalin and more like Princess Di. Mother Theresa.... well that would be too far fetched. I don't know what the future holds, we never do. I suppose I have to change and try and conquer being this odd. So just a little prayer now, I need it.

Mind over heart

I have woken up to a spotless house... thank you Bridget. I have also been reading my cousins' blogs and this thing of not being able to keep house seems to run in the family. And that's a relief. Michale Jackson's song, You are not alone keeps running through my head. So I'm not on my own in this, but it still sucks anyway, seeing we are the daughters of clean freaks.

So much is happening right now, and so much will be happening pretty soon. I have to be strong now, to think and not to feel. Difficult when your genetic make up is 100% emotion, but this thing of people running away with me (metaphorically) has to stop...fullstop. It's going to be painful to do away with the old, I am a creature of habit, but it has to be done. It will take some tears too, but it's still got to be done. Talk about stressful, that's putting it mildly.

But i can still remember what my dear cousin, who is not one to lavish compliments, said to me four years ago... you look like you have your own personal stylist. Those were carefree days, when nothing really bothered me. Now, I have to decide which way to go. I am not sure it will be the right way, but I have to choose.

I just pray God will be with me in this difficult decision where love is going straight out of the window. Because now, I have to think and not feel.

Back here again

I've been absent these last couple of days, but then, my mind isn't exactly very present. The heat, the holidays, the nothing special going on, it all caves in sometimes. And sometimes not. I am longing for a little less heat when the maquillage can really go on and look perfect. Or maybe for the maquillage to go clean off. I suppose what we do has some bearing on what we feel. Or maybe not. It is confusing for me to decide what I want to do, and at 34 one would think we all knew what we wanted in life. But not for a 34 year old with a 16 year old mind. If I have maybe done one correct thing that is that I've shied away from the till-death-do-us-part commitment. And I will hopefully still keep shying away. Because had I committed at the 'normal' expected age, I'd probably have changed my mind a million times. And I cannot even make my nail polish stay on long enough....

Things either happen fast or none at all. But still it is a problem to push myself out of this very safe niche which I have created for myself. You don't even have to bother with coats of mascara, well in this weather I wouldn't anyway. But it's so safe. Although sometimes it feels as if I am spiralling downwards, if that makes any sense at all.

Still pensive here, but I have to be strong now.

Bohemian

Hello dear blog. Uneventful day today. Sunday, I don't like Sundays very much because nothing much happens. But I won't grumble because I'm not about to forget what happened two Sundays ago in a hurry. But life's become too mundane and something has to snap. At least I hope it will. It's like a friend once said to me, when things get really too much then something has to give. But maybe it'll give and it'll be worse, I cannot say. Life is ok, I just want something exciting to happen, like maybe win a lottery, but then I never play the Lottery so that cannot happen either. I suppose hitting 34 is making me think a lot. It's like halfway through your life, and I still have expectations to be fulfilled. 1. Have to quit smoking sooner rather than later, it's a disgusting habit I know, but one which is difficult to face. 2. I have to work on not shying away from new people as I do, it's like a better the devil I know, but it's limiting. I need more people, but I hate bars and trudging through the main entertainment spots in the early hours of the morning. And I'm too old now to try my luck at the Playboy Mansion:) Not that I would have anyway. I hate women who are dumb and can just get away with indecent exposure. I mean indecent exposure is quite welcome when it's the right kind of time and place, but I think brains do it better. Sex lies in the brains, well not necessarily, just for a one night stand brains could be non existent, but not for more. I wonder what's going on up there in a lot of people.

I'm listening to Gypsy's Lament, I just wish I could include music on here in the same way as I can include pictures. It's powerful music, raw emotion, as only gypsies know. We can only sit still and marvel at their passion. I'd have loved to have been born Bohemian, but one doesn't exactly get to chose where and to whom one is born. But there must be some of that in the blood. So fiery, so emotional... and maybe that's where sex lies... in gypsies.

Boredom

I'm bored. I'm longing for fresh air. And I'm scared of this feeling, it's like the insides want to rip themselves out. I have hard work ahead, working on so many unfinished businesses, so many issues tucked away in a drawer. But the drawer is pushing itself out, age does a lot of that I suppose. I saw a young man today, he looked so sick poor thing, it was so startling. I think I'm easy on a doctor's hand in comparison. Or maybe I'm not. But just out of the surgery I felt so confused, clumsy me almost went straight into this young man. And I had to look. Now I don't like looking at people who look different, I know pretty well what the feeling of being looked at is. And I also believe that there is no stereotype as to what anyone should look like. But this young man seemed so sick, and behind him were a confused and worried mum and dad. I felt so helpless. Why do people who seek help from shrinks look so sick? Aren't they supposed to get better? I always thought the heart was a dark forest, but just now I think the brain is an even thicker forest. What goes on up there, what is the thing that makes us us, and what does erratic electrical activity in the brain mean? It sounds like something someone who lived in the middle of radioactivity would have. Why is growing up so hard, and why does it seem so easy for some? Why are there healthy people who couldn't give a damn and others so sick they will clutch at the most fragile straw? Shouldn't we care, because it could really have been us. We've just got lucky. But people keep going on in their lives, waiting for nobody, definitely not for the mentally sick, maybe until it strikes them.

The dreams have returned. Impossible, striking dreams which tell a lot. There is no way my dreams could actually happen or I'd be calling 179 immediately. Dreams are a riddle, but not a puzzle and if you remember them then they must have a bearing of what has gone on in life; what you feel about that certain someone, about childhood. Because someone said, if you regress far enough, then you can go that far enough.

MSN is still quiet, the world hasn't woken up yet, it's Saturday and of course just for it to be more puzzling I've opened a new pair of eyes at 7 am. Just when I was worrying how possible it would be to do that... seems it is.

Gothing away

Good afternoon blog. I feel well. Slept loads, almost till half ten, woke up and guess what... the sun's shining again. Not just weather-wise, but also life-wise. I got to look at the mirror, it's a new hairstyle again... thank you Nigel. Nigel; he's the one with the flair for dressing hair up and down, his scissors seem magical, they take ten years off you. Now I've convinced him to make me go purple, which he'll do next week. The guy is good, he would be payed thousands if he were working abroad. For him hair is art and art is hair. And him being a sweetheart helps too. You just get the feeling of wanting to hug him. Especially after all is said and done and you look into the mirror. He must have taken about one foot off my hair, and it still looks good, even better. He's the only one I can trust without the fear of him going scissor-happy. And it's the only time I didn't cry when I saw that much hair on the floor. I needed a change from being Rapunzel, and hair will grow back anyway. only 6 days to go and it'll be purple... and mum will go into shock but it can't be helped.

This is proving to be a good summer. My only concern is how the hell am I supposed to get up at 7 am come October? I need to fix alarm systems here, not theft ones, but wake up ones. Otherwise I'm going to be done for. And I've discovered a love for goth. It's a bit late for that one might say, but I'm just loving purple and black and it can't be helped. Of course red still goes strong but purple is running close.

Anyway better quit saying all these silly things which to someone who has found a rebirth make a lot of sense but maybe not to everyone else. I'm happy, goth included.

Going Russian

I think I need something new. It's like when someone gets married, they have something old, something borrowed, something new and something blue. Something old... I guess that's me, something borrowed.... I hate borrowing, but a mortgage will do, something blue... that's my nail polish, and something new... perfect excuse to hit the shops. Or maybe I'll wait that little bit longer and do everything at once. Or maybe a new lease of life can be the something new. A new friendship is also something new. Still I have to have an excuse to shop. Trouble is I don't know what to shop for. New shoes are out, I have too many, new clothes... my wardrobe's seams are about to split, new jewellery... well you can never have enough of that. Now I remember, OPI's brand new Russian Collection, there are some fab colours there, because a girl also can never have enough of nail lacquer. Strange thing to name a new collection as Russian, but the names are great and reflect the bold colours. I wonder when they'll do a Maltese collection next, I'd have to buy them all, patriotically. I also wonder what nail polish looks best on me, my guess is the darker the colour, the better it looks against pale skin. We'll see...

Gracias Dios

And thank God. I was concerned, but I've nothing to worry about. I've been given another chance, for life... and for love. It's eerie the way things change. Perspectives change. In an instant, the world seems sad, in another instant it's oh so happy. It's when life is a happy song, not some aria a soprano sings before she dies, or an aria a tenor sings when he's supposed to be dead. This is happy, happy, happy. Like jumping for joy happy. It's when the world is at your feet again, such a good feeling, now I know the definition of delirious. I's not raining men, but it's raining relief and relive... thank you God.

Surviving

So it wasn't too bad at the doctor's. It was actually good. Ok my doctor is a nice one. He didn't get mad or anything of the sort, but he was rather super-concerned. As I am now. Have to take some tests, and we'll see the outcome. I don't want to make mountains out of some very tiny molehill. Still, it's an excellent doctor I'm talking about and without fail his diagnosis is correct, but maybe he's not, not this time.

Went over to mums for lunch, and both mum and dad kept asking what's up. Never realised I was such an open book, of course I said nothing's up, just tired. But maybe mums and dads don't just give you life, they also know you inside out.

As for me, I am a trifle bit scared here. I cannot jump to conclusions and only pray that for once the doctor has made a misdiagnosis. He probably would like that too, but cannot stay silent, and that I understand. Life is still good till now, we'll see what the future brings with it. I am a survivor anyway...

Just a half hour

Nails restored, thank you Jacqueline, new hairstyle to die for, thank you Nigel. Two artists; probably underpaid and undermined. Also two sweethearts. Nothing like Harvey of course, but sweethearts nonetheless. It's nice having personal stylists, and I only can thank my brother for that. Come to think of it, I'm still waiting for my birthday present brother darling. I know he's pressed for time, he's flying everywhere, but I still wait... and I know it's going to be well worth the wait!

I'm still well today. Just not looking forward to this evening, have a doctor's appointment. And he's going to be livid if I tell him what I have been up to. still toying with the idea of not telling, but although the majority of doctors are not psychics and don't know what you've been doing unless you tell them... this one will know.How he'll know I have no clue, all I know is he'll know. So best to come clean and risk what I know he'll say.... you cannot keep doing whatever you like! Oh well half an hour should pass fast enough.

I'm happy, I'm sleeping like a baby, the dreams have stopped, and life is still good. Well a long stretch of holidays help boost the morale no doubt. The sun's outside, it's a pretty cheerful day, so logging off and enjoying the rest of it, minus the half hour at the surgery!

Life is good

Good morning blog. For once, I haven't just woken, bleary eyed, to the rest of the already functioning world. I've been good today, I've walked a mile and back to the shops already. Found out Eurosport is having a mega sale, which is brilliant, they stock Skechers who make shoes just that little bit bigger.... perfect. Bought two more, a girl really cannot have enough of shoes especially when they're in the sale. And I feel great, it feel like the world is out there waiting. I haven't felt like this in ages, especially after last Sunday. I really thought I was done for, but I've been given my life back, and now i get to appreciate the little things such as nothing's wrong with me. I don't mind the heat, that's nothing in comparison. And everything's going to be ok.

Perhaps having dinner with a good, loyal, faithful friend does it. Joseph, there really aren't much like him, just thinking of him makes me smile, he's like one big whirlwind, and one very very kind chap. I hope life treats him kindly because that's how he treats everyone. And if you're in need, he'll never hesitate to come round immediately. That's friendship. When the rest of the world walks out and he walks straight in. Real proof of the human heart.

So I have kitties flying from one monitor to the other this morning. I made Ding, the mother cat go berserk yesterday with my idea of switching my phone to a cat ringing tone. Poor Ding was looking everywhere, it was as if she was looking for her young. I won't do it ever again.

July and August, the months for birthdays, it'll be Harvey's on the 17th now. Another Leo, no wonder the fire's all there:) One day soon he'll be just a local call away, and that's going to make things easier. For now, I pray he'll keep well in mad Madrid. Ok now the postman's just been, lovely one, though very gay, but then most of my friends are gay, really a gay man makes a girl's best friend.

But life is good. I have an appointment with my nail technician, so come evening I'll have my beautiful set of nails restored.... a bientot.