I'd give anything, anything, anything at all to forget you. If, by cutting off my right hand and arm, I could instantly get over you.... man, I'd do it without a moments hesitation.

Current mood: I spent almost the entire day feeling more broken up than I've been in, say, almost a month. I wasn't sure why, why today, when I'd finally regained some joy and happiness in life. Loving someone is like having a cancer of the heart, with its remissions and relapses. 
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If I could scream, if I could rage, if I could cry, I would....but I can't.  I can only write, here. So, maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.
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Is this normal: That I associate people with colors and textures, also sounds with colors, tactile sensations  or tastes, and so on.  No, I don't mean a certain person with a certain textile b/c that's what they wear. I mean, I associate certain very particular shades of color wioth certain people even though they may never have worn that shade, because that color seems as if it *is* them.

I cut my hair off about a month ago. I haven't had it this short since I was 14. I considered shaving or buzzing it all, but opted for something less extreme. It was still a pretty drastic change. I did it because:

• My heart was broken. It was an act of greiving, sort of.
• I was angry. I wanted to die, but decided that cutting the hair would be a less destructive expression.
• It was also sort of a starting over, cutting off the old stuff, turning a new page sort of thing.
• There was also an element of denying my femininity, desexing myself. I chose a man's haircut.
• Finally, I figured that I'd probably be alone for the rest of my life, so there was little sense in being attractive anymore. One of the prime reasons for long hair was that guys tend to like it. No guy in sight, why hassle with it any longer?? So, sort of a surrender.

Irony can be so sweet.........

There is some kind of a saying, either Buddhist/Zen or Judaic, to the effect that when you strive after something.. it becomes elusive, or that when you cease looking for it, chasing it, then you find it.

It's very true.

:smiling deeply from my soul:

Pet Peeves and Wayward thoughts:

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Guys who wear (and I assume intentionally) their underwear exposed by about 3 inches above their waistline. What is this supposed to do? Advertise the brand name? Why? Advertise the fact that they *wear* underwear? Turn girls on? Is it to bring one's attention to the underwear and thence to other, more bedroomly notions?

Yeah, girls wear thongs with low pants. But that's different, because of the shape of the thong and the shape of the skin exposed. It's sexy, and it's teasing, and I personnally find the shapes of the skin/thong/pants aesthetiucally pleasing and far more interesting than a plain waistlilne. That's just me.

But the guy's underwear doesn't show anything but itself, and it isn't even form fitting or erotic in a tactile way (such as silk would be). It just looks like a sloppy jock. Ugh....

Man, I can't believe that I wasted my lunch break ranting about such a trivial thing.

Anyway- current mood, for the most part: happy happy happy

It's like...so many thoughts swirling tumultuously in my head; a slurry mess of muddy blue-green-black-dirty gray (and maybe a few little streaks of red)fighting and struggling with one another. And then.....and then when....it's like a smooth, pure white stone appearing in the center of it all, an island of calm. And all the rest is insignificant.

Scattered but interconnected musings about love-

• Ah, yes...the four letter word. On one hand, the bane of my existence. On the other, the very reason and goal of that existence.
• Why is it that I asssociate love with pain, genrally speaking? Looking back, my initial reaction, upon falling for someone, was terror...not happiness, although that was there too, but real, bone shaking fear.
• And it seems a little odd to realize that I could actually love someone without the fear, without even a fragment of it.
• However, it seems to me that our culture, and probably others as well, romanticizes pain associated with love. Indeed, it is almost as though love and happiness in the abscence of pain would be less valid somehow. What a crock of shit!!!!
• It also seems to me that in the media, popular mindset, etc etc....pain is the acid test of love. You love him? (Or her?) Is it hurting? Is he she causing you pain? Yep, must be love. (I am sitting here rolling my eyes, and yet, I too believed this.)
• Also, why is it that love is seen as static and concrete, fixed. It's not. In fact, I think if it were, it'd be dead, that is, cease to exist.
• There is also this idea that it's a limited commodity, that there's only so much to share or to give, and that it has to be jealously guarded. That seems contrary to it's true nature.
• Oh, hell, I don't know. This is all starting to get a little abstract and amorphous for me....but I do know that I've had it with the love=pain and pain=love trip. That just sucks and I don't think it has to be that way.
• See, I *can* learn from my mistakes. I might be the sort who has to *do* to learn, but learn I can. :-)

This is the goodbye you didn't let me have....it almost has to be listened to, though...reading it is just not the same. Oh well. At this point I'm past obsessing about this sort of thing, or any of it, actually.

Letitgoletitgoletitgoletitgo.....Yep...I'm gonna let it go.