Why?

Why am I allowing this to happen?

It is the equivalent of running away before the end, of hurting myself so that no one else can hurt me, of damaging myself so very badly that no one can do a worse job of it. If I'm going to feel horribly guilty for making her sad, I'd rather feel horribly guilty for giving her what she wants even with an ulterior motive.

And yet I think my motivations are multi- I honestly want to see her happy.  I'm curious. I'm lonely and tired.

I miss Minna.

I laugh on the outside and die on the inside.

I fall in love with pairs. With communities, with families, people I want to slide in beside. I so wish I could be a part, all I want is to be let in, and she'll never ever let me. I fell in love with her too and no one knows that. So it all hurt, it all hurts so much, I retreat to the dream world, I drown drown drown, maybe I can leave this life behind and find somewhere the the ozone doesn't dissolve, sliding away like a veil to reveal the tender, pulsing heart of something you love so much.

I'm running, running, running. 

Bad planning is a bitch.

I'm extremely upset to be missing the discussion on "rites of passage" in the city tomorrow. and the tribal market tonight. and everything.

To succeed as an artist and a creature of the earth I feel like I have to network, network, network, go to every event, get into every market, listen, speak, and communicate. The topic of "rites of passage" within the framework of our modern society is EXTREMELY important to me. I want desperately to learn more about it. But I have to be here, studying, sewing, NOT spending money. If only this, if only that.

I worry that I have made mistakes in my choices, abrupt turns and twists and stumbling mishaps. I am focusing my energy where? I am trying to get a career in something I am passionate about so I can support my life as an artist, but I still want to be a full time artist? I am so confused.

Could I have planned this whole weekend much better? Oh, yes, and how many mistakes am I still making over and over.

PRIORITIZE. FOCUS. PLAN.

I don't know what I'm doing right now. was there a way I could have made this weekend work? I'm not sure. maybe. Time goes by, time takes everything from us, I want to put my life on hold, I don't want to miss anything. This year's themes are important to me. But so is emerging into the place I want to be. I don't want to be where they are, living paycheck to paycheck with no real direction. I want to stop paying rent by 30, whether I own a house or live on my own lot or live perpetually on the road. I want to succeed as an artist and live the life I want.

focus focus focus. for today, forget all of this and sew. don't think about what you are missing. it is february after all. write and listen and dream and meet people later.

A house is not a home, I hate that song..

I'm FUCKING antsy all the time.

I'm uncomfortable, I can't get my shit straightened out, I am tired of being homeless and couch surfing and living on other people's fragile whims. Tip-toeing around roomates and kids and dishes and music and internet and exes and classmates' sensibilities and money and the value of my body. If I'm going to go sell my pretty ass I don't to feel guilty about it.

I'm crawling crawling CRAWLING out of my skin, I don't want to live my life on one side of an ampersand, I don't want to be a victim of my own laziness and indecision. How many broken bits and pieces do I have to leave scattered behind me until I figure out how to fix this mess of a girl this mess of a life, I shouldn't damn well drag someone else into it again. How many mistakes will I make again and again and again.

Just buckle down, make your little tiny life work where you are, miss your friends, miss your life, is a half a dream half away a waste of energy? Is it better to focus all of my energy on surviving my little pocket of misery until I can build a proper life here? Can I ever rise above the guilt and dagger eyes from her? It hurts hurts hurts I feel it all from her and I still almost want to take myself out of the picture.

I miss the girls too, the girls with the other boys, both across the water. I want something impossible there.

Focusing too much on too many things. Chop chop. sacrifice. it's all too much. I am scared, I am running, but there's a realist in there too. maybe I'm just crazy. still. always. maybe it will all be better tomorrow.

or maybe i'll get hit by a bus.