black-bunny ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- First to go and the last to know Holy Hannah, it�s been a while. I�m not entirely sure what it is I feel like writing about. My on-line journal keeping has fallen to the way side with everything that�s happened. Well, it�s not like a bunch of stuff happened, just a couple of big things. I moved. In fact I�ve moved out on my own completely. No friends to kill time with, no boyfriend to curl up next to at night. Nobody. Funny, if you had asked me two years ago if I would be living on my own by the time I reached 30, I would have laughed right in your face. I couldn�t imagine such a thing. All my life I�ve lived in home full of people, and when it was just a boyfriend and myself, I was so over-whelmed with school that I didn�t take the time to savour being alone from time to time. And I haven�t had a �room mate� since the first year I moved here. Those who I�ve lived with I was exceptionally close to. And now? Just me. Not even a pet. I had my poor little guy put down, he had a tumour that would only get worse and I couldn�t bear the idea that he could be suffering and I not know it. And so, here I am. Alone. Well, not really alone. These days despite my closest friends all living far away, despite my mother being gone, despite not having a full-on relationship, I don�t feel alone. One could say that�s a good thing. And today, it is. That�s a change, right? Maybe, I don�t know. Same tree, new leaves, new branches, I suppose really. An oak tree is still an oak tree. Still obsess with change. That�s not new. I was talking to Him today about daydreaming, and how I don�t do it as much as I used to. I suppose I pulled my head out of the clouds so that I could live my life instead of pondering it all the time. But still, it amazes me that I used to spend so much time doing just that, pondering. I haven�t pulled a Tarot in a while. I�m a little afraid to. I really don�t want to know what�s around the corner right now. I knew my mother�s death was coming, I predicted it to within the year. I�ve had enough with predictions for now. I spend so much time figuring things out seven ways from Sunday that maybe I�m due for a little surprise or two. But nice ones only, please. Even though I don�t try to look forward as much as I used to, things in life persist and make me look regardless. My condition is still an issue. Though slim, it may actually progress to cancer. Of course they tell me that at this stage it�s basically 100 per cent treatable. They just don�t mention that a hysterectomy is considered treatment, not radical surgery. If this persists, they�ll encourage me to remove my womb as a preventative measure. So be it, I suppose. I�ll find out soon enough what direction I should face, I�ll find out just how real this situation is. As always, hope for the best, but expect the worse. I�m under their care for at least another year. � All this of course, has had an enormous impact on my activities. I�m not the swinging slutty gal I once was, though still am at heart. Sometimes I miss it, and I long to return to my former glory days of whoring around this city. But then again, sometimes I miss being in that kind of love that fills me with a kind of fear and excitement. There�s something to be said about looking at someone and thinking that I would die without them. Again, there�s something to be said about not having to stitch together my silly broken heart. On the best days, my mind is a stormy place. I can�t imagine anyone being brave enough to peak inside to go beyond the cursory peak inside� And then I�m left wondering why we do it at all. Why do we do it? If the potential for it to all come crashing down around us is so great and so common, why do we fool ourselves with the �forever and ever-ness� of it all? I ask this without an ounce of animosity or resentment. Still, I�ll probably do it all over again, when the mood hits me. I�ll look back on this entry and think I was crazy to think this way to begin with. Sheesh. � So, I understand that I can get nervous when I see lines converging around me, possibly affecting my future� but what do you do when lines converge behind you? What do you do when your past converges? Then again maybe the lines were always crossed, I just never thought to look before. Oh well. People still don�t fail to astound me. Either with their predictability or lack there of. Luckily, these days, it�s humorous. I wonder for how much longer. 10:34 p.m. - 2005-12-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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