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I was going to stop logging words this month. I have completed a full batch and thought I may as well not make the effort for a while now. After all I have nothing new to say, been there and got the t-shirt, so why bother? Except, this site has curiously become quite addictive and the thought of not writing for a whole month is devastating, so I find I must continue. I am compelled to complete this microcosm of my life each day, paring it down to fit the word count, although I do still ramble within my succinctness.
Nothing can agitate me today. My smile permeates through to my core and is deliciously sensuous and soothing. I am still tired with too much to do and my health not fully restored, yet I am enveloped by a blanket of calm silk. It's the sort of day where everyone is decent, kind and wonderful through my rose tinted glasses and I purr with the contentment of knowing them as my friends. It's the sort of day when I smile at the world and can rub a little of my happiness into those around me so they feel it glow.
Friends and words and messages spinning around me, fizzing as we bounce laughter around the ether. Small screen, few words, huge impact. The technological miracle that allows me to send and receive smiles and sorrow and hopes is my lifeline. I freely admit to being obsessive about text messages, but there is no twelve point plan to cure my addiction. The brevity of written words, with the voice of the sender inside my head is a giddy narcotic from which I seek no cure. My thoughts are spoken aloud without a voice. Pure magic and I luxuriate in its spell.
We both know what we are doing. It is dangerously safe and fraught with doubt, guilt and moral dilemma. We both have our toes to the line, still deciding whether to cross over into the new territory where it won't be safe any more. The lure is strong and only waits for opportunity to gain the advantage. We could easily make the opportunity but are not yet that brave; maybe we never will be, although that would be a waste. The danger is deliciously seductive and haunts my dreams. Be careful what you wish for, as it may come true.
So many concerts, such a wealth of beautiful music to permeate my soul. Each time I am there I see my son in a blazing ring of pride and am awed by his talent and confidence. This beautiful young man has shaped his life and become a real credit. Not to me, although I hope I have done something right in the way I have tried to teach him about life and decency, but to himself. Growing to adulthood is monstrously hard and he has come through with a smile and a soul and with things to care about passionately.
Today I was useful. I made a difference to children's lives, gave them joy and pride and did a good job. It was one of those days where all the hard work and the difficulties and the frustrations fade away and are replaced by the sheer euphoria of being able to be proud. Of myself certainly, but more so for the young people that will one day be adults and can remember that feeling of self worth. Long may it stay within their hearts as they are scratched and bruised by life so that they always remember how to smile.
So many chance encounters today that told me so much about the friends I love. First friend sent a text of devastating bad news. He felt low, hadn't told anyone, but now poured out his heart. I sent my care, love and words of hope and comfort, so glad I had thought to contact him. Second friend more mysterious, but I knew she was suffering and wondering how to tell me. Third friend full of angst and despair, telling me he couldn't cope with people hurting him. I hope that my tender words helped a little as I desperately care.
Beautiful music, serenity, such an easy carefree life. So why does my mind whirl in crazed windstorms? Why am I forever restless, needing the rush of adrenalin to even begin to survive? The highs now surge to a place where it is dangerous without oxygen and they are followed by the inevitable scream downwards, to the exhausted recovery, which takes longer and longer before I can attempt the next death thrill. I know I need to stay low to survive, but the tepid life it offers frightens me so much more than this self destruct lifestyle I have lovingly crafted.
I saw him today, unexpectedly, for the first time in nearly four months. The first time since he had loved me and promised me endless kisses. The first time since he had adroitly ignored me and my pleas and messages. I tried to be calm and nonchalant, pretending I hadn't seen him at first. But the lure was irresistible and I had to chat to him with the crowd and my husband all around us. I smiled and made small talk and was sirenly seductive then turned away. Now though I cannot breathe again and know I am forever his.
If I died, would you care?
When the news reached you,
What would you think?
Relief, no more tiresome messages.
Irritation, should send flowers.
Spite, got what she deserved.
All these I expect.
Wishing and hoping cannot change
Your loathing of me.
Yet I still care for you.
Care so much that it hurts
And drains all happiness away.
If you had told me why
Then perhaps I could cope
But it still remains a mystery.
I want you to explain,
Make me understand,
Give me closure.
You know how I tried
To make you talk
Your silence cuts deep.
We care about our group with a passion. It is a hobby, a lifestyle, a bond, a reason to live. But why do we not realise that we must care for the people as well as the group? They all need to feel valued and crave kindness, warmth and smiles for their efforts. Disappointments may be abundant, but remember the feelings which will never return to their original shape once they have been kicked and punched and scuffed. Without our care for the people then the group will surely dissipate and what then will become of our reason to live?
Late night ramblings and thoughts that go round in warped circles but keep arriving at the answers I don't want. I have let myself care once again and neither of us are in a position where we can care without guilt. It needs to stop now before he gets really hurt and his happy life crumbles around him. For me it is already too late and I wonder how I can feel so bereaved when I have never even kissed him. Unlike previous total encounters this has been merely words, but they have slowly burned a hole in my heart.
Sometimes I think I will scream if I have to endure yet another day of my perfect life. Everyone tells me I have it all and on the outside I certainly do. Successful husband, wonderful kids, nice house, my own great job. No shortage of friends and things to do. Always busy of course, but what a fabulous life! So why am I so unhappy? Because the important things aren't there. No caring, no kindness, no love. I am so close to running away and know I should do it soon before what is left of me is drained away.
Quite an amazing thing happened today. Me and him actually talked, for a long time, together. No rows, no nastiness, no upset, just talked about our common interests and had a lovely long discussion. First time we have done that in ages. It felt good. Of course we didn't talk about anything to do with us or our relationship, but maybe that was why we could be civil and interesting to each other. It was so friendly and companionable and relaxed I began to remember why I wanted to marry him all those years ago. Strange how things turn out.
What the hell is wrong with me? I am fucking obsessive! All I can think about is HIM, day and night. It's hopeless, will never come to anything because we both have partners and commitments, yet I just can't stop myself dreaming and imagining. And it's killing me.
I need to calm down, to stop talking to him, to find something that keeps me so busy I won't have a moment to ever communicate with him again.
But wouldn't it just be divine if we could be together? The thought of it is pure erotic heroin for this futile junkie.
Such a wealth of young talent. All making beautiful music and caring passionately about their skill and the bond they have in this unique ensemble. I see their potential and the years of promise stretching far into their glittering futures, for this is their time as it was mine so long ago. I am wistful and nostalgic, but also proud and happy that their joy surges forward with purpose and carries them forward to find their dreams. I had so many dreams and not all were lost. In fact I still have one or two tucked away, hoping for closure.
An ocean of misery swamps our lives. All for want of a little kindness and caring. Why can they not see that they just need to be considerate, give some space and compassion, no matter how ridiculous we think other fears and worries are. A gentle smile and soft air could soothe away cares and help us glide along on currents of love. Instead they spike each other, sneer at the wounds and I have to extract the poison darts and try to cure their fever. I am exhausted and fear I can never care enough to stop their screams.
Circumstances are definitely not in my favour. A time when he should be able to see me, that is if he really wants to see me, and he is so ill he cannot talk to me. Goes to bed early, no texts, no emails, only a message via his daughter to say he is poorly. That was unintentional, just by chance I found out. I should be closing the door, saying sorry, let's get on with our separate lives but what do I do? I worry, I care, I imagine, I send kisses and love. Tears will surely follow soon.
They meet and the family bond pulls close with its thick bloody cords, excluding the inferior beings from their pompous inner circle. Their strength and righteousness increases tenfold as they come together and fills me with an irritated sadness. With hindsight I always knew this would be so, yet pushed away my horror of their bare faced contempt, covering it with marital loyalty and blinkered silence. The loyalty now lies in tatters after so many years of thread picking, allowing a clarity of repulsive vision to slash into my brain. My heart beats faster trying to repress the unleashed scream.
She's gone again, the third time this year. I should be used to it by now. Leaving home to live at university, my little girl now a young woman, pursuing her dreams and living such a wonderful life. I am proud beyond measure of her magnificent achievements and I look at her strong, confident, independent spirit and smile at all that she has become. What I had not expected was that it would also change my life irrevocably as this mark of time chisels itself painfully into my heart. Carefully and skilfully an aching permanent hollow has been crafted there.
Dangerous liaisons begin so easily and with simple words. My other self, the one with the pure conscience, the good girl who always obeyed the rules, would never have used those words, pushing the door open a little and stepping into the dark labyrinth where the walls have a subtle coating of evil and menace. I grip the handle as the good girl clamours in the distance for me to slam it shut and run away, but my new self is stronger, despite the fear and I fling the door wide open, ignoring the decaying wail of despair behind me.
This time my journey into the labyrinth was short. My persuaders were careful and only took me a little way so I was not frightened. They know that next time I will be ready to venture further, then I will truly have left my old self far behind. This is excitement through fear and the distant clamouring can still faintly be heard of the person I once was, but now I am prepared to take any chance and risk. This is the only way I can live, time is short, I want to feel everything before it is too late.
I wondered today if he could be my saviour, my George slaying the dragon. I actually dreamt about him and find myself thinking about him constantly. But then there was no text, no email, no contact, despite all the talk about how close he is to me. The only person I can rely on is myself and I am hopeless, so just stay with the pale green grass on this side of fence. My head knows that it's no better over there; I just want a different paradise. No such thing though is there? My soul is in hock already.
Oh God why am I doing this? He is like a drug I am hopelessly addicted to and his smile is careering through my veins, thrilling me to destruction. I know I should stop before the inevitable death crash but I can't (or won't) and my need for him is unbearable. I am a pathetic addict who tries to get clean, but fails repeatedly, each time with less and less desire to succeed. I really did try to close the door and walk away but he was strong and I was weak. I crave the stabbing rush of his affection.
I realised today how much I have changed in the last few years. It's quite frightening to see how different my values are and how I am now so chaotic and careless. Am I really the same woman who cleaned the house to perfection and insisted on everything in its proper place? The woman who scrutinised and filed every item of paperwork that came her way and insisted on the utmost precision in all things? I can scarcely believe that was me as I look at what I have become. They used to call women like me a brazen hussy.
How do I have such a talent for spectacularly annoying people? I don't even realise I have done it until they start purposefully ignoring me or send me a vitriolic text. It sounds pathetic and selfish to say I don't mean it, but it's true. I never do anything nasty to people, but I do rather tend to bombard them with texts and emails full of chatty stuff and, of course, would like the odd reply. Is that so bad? Obviously must be or I wouldn't be sitting here breaking my heart and draining my life away in lonely tears.
Life turns round and twists so quickly sometimes that your brain gets dizzy from trying to think of how and why you feel the way you do. Highs and lows snap magnetically to keep you wondering how to act and shade the future with a fuzzy outline that never quite comes into focus. My emotions are constantly volleyballed around, but I find that this has a perverse thrill to it. I know that my experiences will be intense, whether they be high or low, but find that a fine way to live instead of the middle road safety I endured.
A giggly day with me being mistaken for a kissogram and making a light hearted connection with a complete stranger in the sunshine! All good fun and made me realise how the cloud of depression has lifted now I am well and stronger again. I have found the confidence to be flirty and stoical, noticing the good things about life and shrugging off the bad. This is the me I like and I know I need to nurture this person and keep that other shadow well trodden down, unable to rise. Its bleakness can drain my life with frightening efficiency.
I feel so angry that people let me down. All the time. I am so gullible, they take me in and make me think I can trust them. Then when it comes to the crunch they just punch me in the face and laugh as I fall. It's happened three times today, in one day, how wretched is that? Just when I start to think everything could be happy and wonderful, along comes the swipe and I am down on the canvas with the world spinning and the stars spiking my brain. Is not trusting anyone really an alternative though?
A wonderful day of competition wins for my loved ones. I am thrilled and delight in sharing their joy as they celebrate the victory they have worked so hard for. The day was also electrified for me by unexpectedly seeing my lover, although that should probably be ex lover. I'd like to say I was cool and enigmatic, hardly casting a glance in his direction and barely acknowledging his presence. But no, I was suggestive and sultry, almost begging for his touch, finally kissing him on impulse away from the crowd. My heart is a neon sign on my sleeve.
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