wandering lost. wondering who i am, where i fit in. i’ve given the password to so few people. i wonder if i have chosen the worst of both worlds – the consciousness of people reading to still my hand, but the profound silence and emptiness that greets my words.
but no, i think about who i’ve let in – and an even smaller group, who is logging in – and i trust you. so i let entries come out like yesterday’s, where things are not polite or considerate or neat.
Continue reading ‘too bad you had to have a better half’
Written on December 29, 2003 by claire.
a lot of time whiled away being little. days flying past, dragging slow, blink-of-an-eye. we are melancholy most of the time, but still we get up and come through the day. a lot of time spent on neopets, one watercolor a day, a smaller amount of learning. i just feel the tiredness creeping inch by inch over my everything and it is depression. i am trying so very much to shake it off. but it wraps tighter around me when i move.
i’m sick of rain and grey and cold. i’m upset about having to use blankets i’m allergic to (i guess they’re dusty) because my comforter and sleeping bag together aren’t warm enough. i’m sick of trying to find ways not to be bleak. bleak finds me no matter how hard i run.
Continue reading ‘never fucking mind’
Written on December 28, 2003 by nymph.
i am little and scared again today, big panic all in me i just can’t get away from it. morning should have been nice, but i still feel scared. beth says try to look inside me and see what i want, what would make me feel easier. aeron says to be gentle.
i don’t know what i want. we spent 200,000 neopoints yesterday to get our pet a morphing potion and a paintbrush, so now adenydd is a white uni. and it’s really neat because you can’t get unis as a new thing! our kareoke game is fun too but i wish it had just scales and stuff so we could learn what is where and how to do it and… i just don’t know. but it is fun. we can get medals on easy mode but medium is harder. it would be a really fun game to play with other people but aeron can’t sing in front of people. which is really sad.
Written on December 27, 2003 by katy.
i feel morose. like something incalculably precious has been lost. all lost, lost, gone. time is slipping through my fingers, between my legs, i can’t halt anything.
children are scared, scared. they slip up and down, to take breaths of outside air. this panic in me comes from there. beth says it is not my place to fix it, only hear it, so i am here for myself, because i have my own panic. i don’t know why i’m saying or what. i am someone, and i never knew it before. how many other things will develop as a polaroid until we never saw how we didn’t know before. but don’t nail us down, because that is a sure way to change everything.
don’t know what to do with my time. too soon there will be none, and all i have now will be wasted, sand, pinging the bottom of the glass.
Written on December 27, 2003 by beth.
This morning we woke up out of touch, the wrong side of the bed, fragile and scattered, like a shaken bag of plums bleeding out through the burlap. Yesterday, there was so much trouble getting out of bed, so much fear and stuckness, that this morning we forced ourselves up as soon as possible, got dressed, and tried to “be good”. That is, we did our flashcards and started inputting some new ones. But it wasn’t fun; it was bleak, and there was nothing on the horizon that felt okay. A millimeter under the surface, there were layers upon layers of tears and fears and emotional explosions.
Continue reading ‘i’m me’
Written on December 23, 2003 by nymph.
i am sad tonight. yesterday was really nice in the middle, we had some really nice stuff. daddy got us a vibrator for solstice, and i used it and i came, even without daddy touching me! it is nice now i can come when i want to. before we never could make ourselves come and it is so hard because i am just always always horny. so we have a vibrator and it is difficult but i can come with it all by myself. it is easy for daddy to make me come with it.
i feel guilty though because i know i’m not supposed to come on my own. i mean, if i could do that, what would be the point of me being so horny all the time? but i guess they are all gone and i’m not working anymore and there’s just no one who wants me except daddy. and he only does some of the time, like a normal person.
Continue reading ‘my happy solstice’
Written on December 23, 2003 by twi.
there’s an openness about closed doors, so i found myself something to use instead of that old anonymous screen. i am hot now, hot hot with full with yes. their blood is swimming hot, i can see how beautifully it would stain wood, stone, earth, my lips. it should have been better, yesterday. but i had my own, you bet.
i smile because they say she is around looking at it from the other direction, because those are my silly young girls bedecked in sheeny gowns of dawn-white, virgin-white, and i smile because the night is purple and heavy and mine.
this was written 12-17-03, but i’m putting it in right now.
once upon a time there was a young girl who was all alone in the world. one day she had a rash down where she peed, so her mother decided to take her to the doctor. the doctors office had a waiting room with toys in it. the girl did not play with the toys because she was a good girl. she sat quietly until it was her turn. her mother did not get up to go in with her when it was her turn, because the girl was alone in the world.
Continue reading ‘a true story with lies’
yesterday was hard. i don’t know why it hit so fucking hard, this year; maybe because we didn’t really celebrate at all. and won’t until january. we celebrated with our mother, and it was nice to have her here, actually, as nice as it could have been. we never felt too awkward. we took her for a bike ride along west cliff drive, along the ocean, which was beautiful. then walked on the beach – a bit of a heart-to-heart there, which was hard, so many things we couldn’t say, and rage rising in our throat because she was apologizing for a papercut when the real hurt was a full-out mauling. maybe not a papercut, maybe one bruise. we tried to remind ourselves that the person apologizing to us didn’t know about the other stuff, didn’t do it to us – someone else in her system did. and so it meant a lot, that she said sorry for whatever it was she was saying sorry for (we didn’t fully understand. but words. emotional parenting mistakes.) but tears and anger were so big in me. i couldn’t dissociate them away. i dream that someday she’ll remember what they did to her – every time she tells me she has a new memory my heart stops a second, hoping. because if she could only remember everything, and recognize her dissociation, she really could be my ally. as much as aeron could. i know she probably never will. i know she doesn’t want to have to know about something that followed her into adulthood, into the next generation. she doesn’t want to have to know that her mother was probably a part of things. she’d like to keep all the hurts and all the blame to some dead guy and his friends. i imagine that’s a lot easier. but anyway, i am sidetracked.
Continue reading ’sick, yeah i went into the bathroom’
so sick today, heartsick and stomach in rebellion, i can’t find words i am okay with. frustrated that suddenly i can’t watercolor anymore, when i try to put a wash down it comes out blotchy and horrible. i don’t even know how to get an even layer of color down, but i thought that was the first thing i learned. i don’t know. i’m just so frustrated. the painstakingness of it all, and then to fail. it was easy to go back and try again when the paper was smaller, the sketch simpler.
oh, this is not what mean to be talking about. i am full of anger and fear and loneliness. (lonely for myself to come clean…)
Continue reading ‘and it is… till it’s not’
