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Juste un peu de silence.

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and the shades of grey in between

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This is just a blog for thoughts - songs that are speaking to me, pics from where I've been today, or projects on the drawing board.
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pirate folder
the pirate girl

coeval happenings
reading: Moab is my Washpot - Stephen Fry
listening to: Napalm & Silly Putty - George Carlin
travelling/staying in: SA, NSW & Vic - depending when you catch me

Let's call today: 'Thursday, 19 April 2007'

pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
 
Lately, whenever I've touched skin with another person, it's left a tingly spot and an unsettled feeling.
Just now I gave the phone to my Dad and our hands touched in the transfer. I had to shake myself. And yesterday I went out with Nathan and he put his hand on my knee while I was driving and I flinched a bit.
I feel like Amelie's mother in the start of the film, I draw my hand back fast sometimes.
Me. The tactile junkie. Flinching at contact.

I think it may be work. Having strict no contact rules with customers has left me not only paying for things by placing money on the counter instead of into the cashiers' hands, but also somewhat rather isolated.
I guess that's why hugs backstage are welcomed so readily; regardless of who from, and whether or not I probably really maybe shouldn't be hugging them.

Monday night I indulged in a small moment of breaking, putting away for a minute my 'you're not worth my tears' face that I'd donned, and opening the valve slightly to release the pressure of self-pity and disappointment. Hating myself at slipping, at taking a chance on someone again, thinking it may have worked.

Then, exhausted, I switched back into the here and now and shook my head at the confusion and turned my back to the damnable misery of it all.
If I hadn't just decided to give it shot, it probably wouldn't hurt so much.

And if I could actually sit down and have my questions answered maybe it'd give me closure.
And if there wasn't so much acting like nothing happened, and open arms alternating with pushing hands, I wouldn't be so lost.

As I said to David in pitstop lastweek 'I came here to work, not to be fucked around.'



And in another to-the-minute update:
my parents are fucktards who irritate me with simply each breath


12:29 pm | Post A Comment... >

 
   
 
 

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blogs, projects & other links:
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mine sweeper
zombie skittles
under my umbrella
jason b standing
hyperbole and a half
geekologie
postsecret
you are not a photographer
geek with curves
boobiethon

untitled experimental dating site outlet blog
captain's log
the scribe
the NEW amount
big unit studios

20 things i learned about browsers & the web
that's not cool - anti online/textual harassment support
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lior
ben folds
hawksley workman
missy higgins
BLACKNAIL
wandering minstrels
annelizabeth
xavier rudd
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