I wanted to go lay out on my sidewalk, and I did for a while, but then I got the craving for another sip off my vodka collins and I looked about me and felt the world coming into its place over and over again, not swirling, just sliding into place over and over again... and I decided that I have to stay inside now. I don't want to be sick outside, defile the earth.
*sigh*
damn hiccups now.
and I screwed up a conversation somehow. and I just... I don't know what I really want but I know what I am craving and I know I won't get that and shouldn't ask for that if I am not asking for more, and I don't know if I want more or more from that person or from someone else, and I am just stupid. I can be better than this.
I think I have regressed. what is up with that? 29 and regressing? how stupid can I be? sorry. I am 5 drinks stupid and I still have one drink stupid to go before I stop.
that last line could be in a poem.
my friend Jordan ought to be amused by this internal random drunken banter. if he knew me so well, maybe he knows me more than I think even though I haven't seen him since last summer 2004 when he and Lillian were in barnes and noble when I was working there for about 4 weeks tops.
I miss Allison and she's straight and I loved her when I lived in Mississippi, two weeks before I knew I was moving here. Hearing that I got this job was the best and saddest news I had ever heard: first professional job, leaving a love unknown. And she never knew how much I really liked her. I am a mess right now. I think I know who I am, all together, and just....not pieced together. "everything is wrong" as Lucinda Williams puts it. She's singing right now.
Is this how Dad felt when he was this drunk? But he was not so apt to write so what'd he do? Bet. Gamble. Drink more. Never hit Mom but might as well as have what he yelled at her all the time. Threaten to leave every Friday and Saturday night. In my doorway I am hoping that he'd leave. Go to sleep. Wake once to him pissing in my doorway. This is truth. This is my history. I listen at my doorway to r-rated movies, sex scenes, after bedtime hour, and learn and yearn.
I miss love. I miss comfort beside me in bed. I am lonely but I do not want pity. I do not want someone to be kind "just-because." Do not feel sorry. I hate that. I sense it so don't dare.
I am virgo. Am not "the virgin." I know things you'd never think I'd know. I am private yet open. I am not innocent but nor guilty either. I am not your angel slut. I am not your prostitute in bed and perfect woman about town, but then again, I can be if I choose to be so. I know my role. I am not the woman of anyone's dreams. But I know what I can do to make you happy. I know what makes me happy. I know buttons I can push. I am a sexual being and there is no denying that. I may seem prudish, but I am not if you are open to me.
I know (sometimes) when someone has a crush on me. I know when I have a crush on someone else. I know what I am capable of doing, what is "right" and yet I cannot make up my mind sometimes whether or not to pursue or not. I could do anything, but at the same time I feel I have some kind of obligatory responsibility. you do not know how tempting it is. I do not know if it is right to pursue that which pursues me or to let it go.
I am being vague. Do not attempt to translate unless you feel it applies to you.
I am drunk. I warn you. And this is rare, this kind of drunkeness. very rare.
Outside on my porch again.... Lucinda keeps singing...
"Come on, come on, sing the boys in the choir, come on, come on, sing it higher and higher.... " - Lucinda Williams, "Atonement"
Instead of drunk dialing I drunk post. yeah. That is good. Yeah Laura, written record of your insanity. That is real good.
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