Patience. How many times must someone forgive a person who hurts them. Or should one accept that the shortcomings of another, unavoidable for all, are just as the shortcomings in themselves?
From one person a promise to call and talk supportively, a declaration of intent. Then apologies for lack of time. Then calls to your housemate.
From another a reply to a conversation about being sad you missed out on rock climbing because of work with a mention that they have two free passes to the same place… followed by them telling you that they think they will ask the dude form work if he wants to come with them, and that its not really his thing but he may be up for it.
From another a panicked assertion of control claimed for safety reasons, resulting in pushing you out beyond all hope of safety or stability, alone in the dark before morning, in the dangerous parts of the docks.
From another two the utterance of love and care and the actions of someone who sees me as an object failed and gone wrong. Now half forgotten. Irrelevant.
Past professions of her death wish for me.
The people I have loved deeply.
Should I continue to show patience with them, through my lack of faith in any member of the human race, because they too are human as I am? Can I continue to believe in them? Is it worth trying to?
I wonder if I should start to consider, getting drunk alone a spiritual ritual?
I honestly don’t know wtf I’m still doing here and I don’t have faith in anyone anymore.
20 people wrote on your timeline to wish you a Happy birthday!
(Between ignoring several obvious statements of hopelessness and cries for help.)
20 people who don’t give a shit and just reacted to computer prompt, welcome to the modern irony that is the internet.
Getting drunk on mead alone because that is the best I can do for myself on my birthday and its getting really hard to hold myself up.
I had hoped to share this with someone, It is good quality traditional stuff because I am intolerant to the preservatives in the cheaper more common mead. Its even got tannin in it to make it super tasty, it was made by a druid, some of the best stuff. And yet, there is as always no one here with me.
I am caught between wanting to kill myself and wanting not to hurt the people who have failed to stop me from getting to this point of absolutely no hope.
But I am too logical to do that, and all I can do is continue to hope that equation never tips from low mostly null possibility of things getting better to the other side of things,
I’m just finding everything so hard and I’m so tired and I’ve got no legitimate support and I’ve got next to no strength left and I don’t know what to do.
One misstep and I fall, and I can barely see my feet any more.
I really am not doing ok.
And there is no one left I can trust or talk to.
I feel I’ll have something important to add to this soon.
Last weekend I met wolfbrother and we we went to listen to a man talk about the turning of mind behind his creation of song that resonates with the soul. We went drinking. We went to thrash about in the calling of our unreleased selves and build power. (I understand some people may also call this a heavy metal concert, but that is rather missing the point.). We went drinking again. He went erranding. I went roaming. I spoke to people and grew, I realised I had grown in a weekend what I wouldn’t have in a year otherwise.
Tonight we are separated by location. Both of us left for town to go drink again, not yet ready to leave behind the essence of our short visit. We both got drunk. He told me he was not saited from our weekend. I told him I was not done either. He said to call him, with a lure and a warning in the question. Then said he would call me, then thought better of it, deciding he was too stupid to speak then.
I had in small part during the night been speaking in the least deep of ways about him with others who will not meet.
I wonder where the fear of mangling his words has come from and what else runs parallel.
There is a friend who I have hung out with maybes all of twice alone. It wouldn’t quite capture the root of the thing to say we are close, more the turnings of our thoughts run down similar lines, so we are comfortable with each other, so we understand each other, and we are those who are not often understood.
Whenever I have hung out with this friend and others, there has been jealousy from the others. From all the partners I have had whilst also knowing this friend, because they do not know the turnings of my thoughts and are scared that I am close in ways they don’t understand to someone they erroneously consider competition. From friends of friends who have told lies about me behind my back to bring my standing down in the eyes of the world, because they wanted to catch my friends gaze and erroneously consider my their own competition. And lastly by those fuckers who always want to be the centre of the attention and never let anyone else be more interested in any conversation than their bleating.
No one can break this with their pettiness. And its no one else’s business what sort of friendship we have, though no more than friendship has transpired.
I certainly don’t have to justify, to the person who made me fear for my safety, why I am going to see my best friend a day early.