Time?

When you're me it matters very little. Losing track of it....I can never actually keep track if I'm to be honest. I can't tell an hour from five minutes. I'm crazy. I know but I don't really mind.

My lack of time-tracking helps me to lose myself, lose everything I want to shut out. Hence the reason I don't try to...most likely I'll simply stress about the amount of time I'm wasting.

I hope time really does heal all. At this point I am really hurt. I hate feeling in love...it always makes me feel so raw, bare, naked to everything. Raw...everything frazzles me emotionally...add to the usual up down moodiness *sigh* I'm hoping time really heals and that I can lose track of that also.

So at this late hour...I'm sitting here...hurt...hurting....and unsure of what to do with myself *sigh*

Shazi C

Bad Hair Day

I wasn't perfect for most of the day. It was the usual up and down. Then there's the hair I can't comb or brush it. I can't do anything with it or else it breaks.

So today I went to work looking much more insane than usual. No brush touched this head (actually a little...pain to my hair, scalp), no comb but my fingers did a bit. People were shocked...as was I when I looked in the mirror.

I wasn't as confident as usual but I was comfortable, which helped a bit.

It ended perfectly though. I had the priviledge to drive a 2001 Mitsubishi Fuso!

Moody....is an understatement..

For the last few weeks my mood/emotions have been all over the place. It is usually like this but it has become worst, much more drastic. The swings are more sudden than they were before.

I feel the sadness on my skin, the happiness is the same. They take me over more completely and yet move on so quickly and when they don't I swing into a numb or slight depression to deep depression.

At least karate is still good. I learned a few things pertaining to training and got some tips on my side snap kick.

I'm presently wondering if one Mr. Vagon likes me. Sometimes it seems like he does and at other times as though he's simply being friendly. Sometimes he speaks less casually than he does with other and then at times like tonight, I find him staring at me...not looking. In addition he goes on calls my name..."Shaziane" as if its something other than a name and then lets it hang there....in the air, almost as if he's listening. When I do answer he waits a bit longer then throws himself into the conversation even if its the usual "How are you?"

He's baffling me. I'm baffling me. Thankfully, he's focused and executes most things correctly with little flaws. Whenever something new is being done I can always look to him to find the correct method and rhythm.

Wish I could live in silence. lol

And I miss my fellow bell. *sigh* It'd be much easier and fun with her. Not that it isn't. But everything is better when she's around. She is like a sister to me.

Love?

I've thought about what exactly this ought to be: the definition, the actions that go along with it, the way in which those who experience it should feel, act and react toward person they experience it for.

Unfortunately, for this abstract I have found no complete concrete answer for the first. From observation, the second seems to be one of caring, sharing, gentle, at some times caring at others aggressive depending on the persons overall character/personality and also the situation. The third is much harder...and I am still observing/compiling and analysing.

The basis of this is that I don't know what love is outside of the family or rather brotherly (agape) type. For this reason among others(to be discussed later) I've decide to withdrawn myself from courting.

I have feelings for guys which I truly do not understand. The only one I completely understand (or at least I think I understand) is obsession/addiction. Can that be love? I don't know...

I feel something for Brick. It's almost like love. I'm obsessed with a close on-line friend. But wouldn't that latter cancel the former? I'm confused.

Brick is tired of waiting after almost a year...made his umpteenth move yesterday after a break in his succession of moves. I don't know if it feels right. Still I rely on if I love him or not....and there I land over and over again. Stuck.

Shazi C

Is It Me?

Is it me who's wrong? Who knows? Do I care? Two need answers and I don't care to answer any.

Hurting because you've been hurt is heartless, childish/immature leading only to hurting one's self in the process.

I never liked it when my ex did it, and I dislike it more in relatives. It pisses me off that they try to get back at me for unintentionally and unknowingly hurting them. It hurts more than the normal hurt if there is such a thing.

You know I love you I show it in many ways...through sharing my art which I hold dear, doing things for you which I'd do for no other and yet you wilfully hurt me in the meanest of ways. I've put my heart on the line many times. I am your paparazzi, your Golden Globe audience, your fan when I need my own and you forget every time....only remembering to hurt me when I'm already at my lowest low. Thank you.

Thank you for showing me how you love. I won't follow in the pattern but neither will I subject myself to such beauty. This is the cut off point...it won't be easy but nothing worthwhile is.

Good Bye

Addicted

I am an addict in many ways. I love the addiction, obsession, the overuse which hides me from my world of self-inflicted pain.

Books have fallen into such a category. The internet...certain unexplored corners....

In an effort to hold my heart in place. In an effort to keep this knife against the cutting board away from my chest, I stay on too long..sleep a little less....keep this mind occupied on everything else a little longer. Take more time than is necessary on the unnecessary, overload on that which is heavy....read novels, online blogs, IMing with persons I care not about, use farmville as a pathetic excuse of distraction and when it isn't enough double it with other facebook activities, yahoo, gmail, google, hotmail, aim, wikipedia and now blogger.

What am I really doing with these? Nothing but trying to keep you away, when you've never been near. Trying to hold your voice out at sea and your smile in its depth. Because the truth is I don't know you and I find it harder to understand how I could allow myslef to fall, tangle and interweave you into who I was over five years.

I could have had a full life if I'd turned away before. But here I am trying to get away from that perfect image of you residing within and without my walls of sanity.

Shazi C
I will be free