chasing shadows again

{December 8, 2007}   It has been almost a month. I am still alive.

It has been weeks of storms. Rain. Wind. Thunder storms, almost unheard of here. Family insanity. One whirlwind of…I don’t even know. Love. Lust. Chemistry. Love was definitely involved. It was a strange razor’s edge dance, that somehow maintained the delicate balance necessary to avoid falling into anything that might be defined.

Aside from the indefinable boy…life here in the land of loud birds has been deathly still or frantic, but never conducive to writing.

I still have nothing really to say.

I hope to start taking belly dancing or doing something. That will help with the whole depression thing that is looming overhead. However…actually doing the things…difficult. I will try to write something more like playful and cute soon. Or get you pictures. Something.


Molli says:

Subtract the whirlwind love/lust razor edged dance with inefinable boy and you’ve just pegged where I’ve been at for the last six months πŸ™‚ I’m so sorry for not writing to you sooner, but I’m really stuck these days… translate that to mean ‘unwell’. I keep coming here and trying to find something chirpy to say and falling to pieces when I can’t think of anything. Silly git that I am, I should have stopped being self-obsessed for at least half a second and simply asked, “How are you doing, fox?”
I do hope you’re well and that life is being good to you and that people go out of their way to pour joy and light and laughter into your days…. you deserve them! πŸ™‚

fox says:

It is okay to say less happy things on this blog. I am s-l-o-w-l-y coming to the point were I can write the word depression on it without flinching. I try to keep it cute because I don’t think people want to hear me whine. The downside to that is lots of silence when I can’t find the energy to find cute things, say cute things, or do cute things. (Though I have a cuteness post coming soon, it’s about half done!)

Molli-I totally owe you an e-mail (which was in the plans for today, sometime after the return letter to the indefinable Aquarius (who is actually closer to you than to me right now, as I’m abandoned for New Zealand – at least for awhile) and around the time for Postsecret). It places you in fine, fine company, I assure you. Frank and my Aquarius are two of the people I remember most most fondly, and entirely without flinching, though I love them both quite differently.

You need not worry over being cute – we are just glad to hear from you. πŸ™‚ Promise. I will bite mean people. With tiny, but very vicious, teeth! In a completely not fun manner. πŸ˜‰ I only give love bites to nice people.

Molli says:

(Yay me, I remembered – finally – to check back via ‘My Comments’ ! :-P)

Now what I need to know is where I can sign up for some of these nibbles?!!! πŸ˜€

I’m in precisely the same situation as you – only I didn’t even begin with chirpy posts, so I was doomed from the start! Since my intention was to clear out all of my old poetry, condensing it all into one site, with the hope of then having room for new stuff… well, that didn’t work because a) I’m sick of all of my old stuff and it’s even OLDER now and, b) I STILL can’t write anything new!

I actually had someone all signed up for some (preferably rabid) bites – but he’s got himself a temporary reprieve. We shall see how long it lasts! It’s amazing how much better I felt just seeing your offer to bite mean people for me! πŸ™‚ Now if that ain’t the darned cutest thing, I don’t know what is! πŸ™‚

Here’s a question open to discussion – how do you get over a person you can’t fall OUT of love with? The person who, for the first time ever, you actually had the temerity (gall and corniness) to think of as ‘the one’? Believe me, that appellation is a first for me and I was 27 years of age when I this person slid in beneath my skin. So, it’s not as though I was one of those flighty fifteen year olds who ran around referring to all of my little crushes as ‘the one’. This one is a first… and I can’t get over him and I HAVE to because the world has continuously pointed out a myriad of reason why he can’t possibly be ‘the one’ …. and I’m officially babbling with my 72 hours straight of total sleep deprivation! Apologies!

Reading back through the paragraph I realise that, of course, I sound PRECISELY like one of those ‘flighty fifteen year olds’! πŸ˜›
Let me re-phrase… I’m so screwed!!! (And not in a good, hot, sweaty, smiley way either!)

Okay, I just got myself uncheerful again so we’ll lighten it up by saying that he’s been worth the torment but AGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

πŸ˜› There, that’s better! So, have I sufficiently hijacked your post yet? πŸ™‚

Back ON topic – belly dancing sounds wicked fun! I’m currently downloading some video footage of all of the latin dances – salsa, rumba, tango – that sort of thing. Six hundred megabytes on dial-up and I keep losing my net connection – fun! The bad thing is, I don’t know how to dance with someone else. I’ve never been in a position to learn. I can hold my own – on my own – on the dance floor, but put someone else in their space and I guarantee groins shall be kneed, elbows shall go into rib cages and cute, little pinky toes shall be stomped. As Mark put it, “So you’d make an excellent pole dancer!” Yes, I think I would. Now, if I could only develop a nice pair of breasts I might actually start paying my own way through this world again! πŸ™‚

There, pole dancing and breasts… so much more cheerful πŸ˜€

Ashish says:

All right, which one is the post and which one is the comment? Did just read breasts in there? πŸ˜›

And btw, its been another month since you have been back and gone again! πŸ˜€

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