Thursday 9/12/02

What is it about night that prompts us to revelations? It seems that the deeper the night, the deeper the secrets we are compelled to reveal. Whoever coined the phrase ‘Dark Night of the Soul’ knows of what I speak; what I feel. You just want to empty everything out, everything that has been weighing on your mind, heart, soul, and believe that in the confessing comes changes for the better. But people are unpredictable, either too rational or too emotional; too prone to react in a manner contrary to what you hoped for.

I search for diversions at night—books, TV, movies, computer, housework, pouring my heart out into my diary rather than in the ears of another, anything to prevent the words slipping from my lips. How come life is so fulfilling and passionate in my mind, and such an endless stretch of emptiness in actuality? How did it come to be so?

I am confused.

Thursday 7/18/02

Sleep has become more of a burden. An elusive burden. I know I must get more rest, or I will never get over this annoying summer cold, but actually lying down and closing my eyes before I am so exhausted my limbs are like lead has been an impossibility.

I am usually up until 4:00 am or so, lately I have been watching the sun rise and pass into noon before going to bed. It wouldn’t be so bad if I was actually accomplishing something during these hours. No, I either watch movies, read, play computer games, or do the chat room thing on the net.

Or listen to the dark little voices murmuring in my head, retelling memories both pleasant and not; urging me to recapture all that I have lost and reclaim the person I was at the cost of the here and now. (Could I combine them both? Or have to sacrifice one for the other?)

Tonight is an especially difficult night. I decide I must keep busy with something more physically demanding, hoping to exhaust my body enough to shut down my mind and allow me some rest. I clean the kitchen, then start washing all the cabinetry; scrubbing all the wood work with oil soap, rinsing, then scrubbing again. The radio is on in the back ground, tuned to Art Bell.

Saturday 6/15/02

The Moon is in Leo, and Venus has just transited through the same sign. She is a perfect crescent tonight, and I am drawn to her. Lothias is sleeping on the couch. I am sitting on the front porch watching the Moon rise over the houses. Shadow Cat is with me, prowling about the front yard, slipping in and out of his name sake.

Friday 6/14/02

The world is full of land mines waiting to explode and tear you to shreds.

Thursday 6/13/02

Things that give me pleasure:

Thick chicory coffee with lots of sweet cream.

A blue candle burning in a window during a rainy night.

The scent of fresh lavender and rosemary growing in a terra cotta pot.

Bly Cat's perfect pink nose.

The taste of paprika.

Sunday 5/19/02

It is so peaceful in the grocery store at 2:30 am; no crowds, no hassle, other than maneuvering around the pallets of new stock waiting in the aisles to be unpacked and shelved. we were just going to pick up some soda, but ended up getting a few other items as well as ice cream; we hadn't had ice cream in a long time.

I have my night eyes in. It is drizzling, almost a rain, while we walk across the parking lot to our car.

Across the street a large fountain of water washes over the sidewalk in front of a Blockbuster Video; someone had hit a hydrant.

Some kids huddled in the back seat of a car are looking for someone to buy them some booze.

A man on a customized Harley is talking to someone in a car.

We are going home to have some ice cream.

Tuesday 5/02/02

I have no work tonight, and have no pressing, 'time is of the essence' projects other than catching up on my writing.

I feel tired, bone tired (physical), but am emotionally OK, despite the non-stop roller coaster ups and downs from Friday to Sunday. I am seriously questioning who I have been calling friends and adopted family; their behaviors have been uncomfortably alien to me of late. I have been puzzling over whether the problem lies with me, or them, or both; and if it is truly severe enough for me to start drifting away, or I am being over critical and inflexible.

The good parts of the weekend was I received the $ owed me, and Lothias received his, and my boots have arrived. I have also treated myself to a few beauty items: 2 face masques, a face cream and an eye gel. L has also given me some japanese skin care items (Long story how he obtained them.); a face wash and a moisturizer, direct from Japan, as all the directions are in japanese.

Perhaps I shall take a night off and spend it on myself. I will watch Sex and the City and give myself a facial.

Wednesday 4/03/02

These are the hours that I like best; when the volume of the mundane world's psychic dross is low, and I can take a moment to reflect without interruption.

Tonight, though, I am restless, unable to concentrate on any one thing. So I wander about the house while Lothias sleeps, doing this and that, having the appearance of being busy, yet accomplishing nothing. Well, I did bake some cookies, something I don't usually do; I'm more of a main dish or snack person rather than sweets. It's just that Lothias bought some of those slice and bake cookies for Easter and never made them. The container has been sitting in the refrigerator since last friday, so I decided to bake them. I ate one, the rest he can take to work with him to share.

Saturday 3/23/02

Too many of my skeletons
In other people's closets
Too many people taking without leaving deposits
Too many people bringing me down
Bringing me down
Well they may find me on a hotel floor
High heels in a pool of gore
Curtains closed
And a bolted door
Breaking every law

And if I die before I wake up
I pray the Lord don't smudge my make-up
The dress will be fine when the hem I take up
The dress will be just fine

Sometimes I feel like a moral-less child
Sometimes I feel like I've gone too wild
Spilled my guts
Done myself in
Died for a multitude of sins
It feels good to die for your sins
It feels so good

~Marc Almond~
 

Tuesday 3/19/02

So much I need to do. Time, I seem not to notice its passing and am so surprised when the hour is late. It is not the minutes or hours that disturb me, or even the days, it is the years falling behind me.

I feel I have done so much, yet accomplished very little; I have seen and done more than most, but it all doesn’t seem to be enough. In short, I have become painfully aware of the ticking clock and how time is running out.
 

Monday 3/18/02

I feel—dare I be such a stereotype?--melancholy. But in a good way. I feel introspective, reflective, strangely at peace with my sadness.

A bit of rain, not enough to matter; it was over not long after it started. The wind became very cold, freezing cold. The house is cold. I am cold.
 

Thursday 3/07/02

It started raining, very hard, late afternoon. Unfortunately, it only lasted a few hours, but started again about 2 hours ago (Around midnight.). I was sewing and I heard a sudden blast of water hit the window behind me. This deep into the night there is no extraneous noise to interfere with the sound of the rain; regardless, I still opened the window a bit so I could feel more like I was in it.