flustered

butterfly wing in my spider-web mouth.
gnat-slap distracted.
tongue tipped in heartbeat.
tongue tipped in madness.
sword tipped in poison.

pin through a board,
a pinned specimen,
fluttering,
fluttering,
still.

Angry sleeping. Homicidal ideation. and Mental music videos.

I woke up in fists. Hands and feet, right and left. Left-hand is the most angry though. If this were a book, that would be important. People in books rarely notice irrelevant information. Sadly, this is not a book, and most of my passing curiosities will never be explained, or useful in figuring out who murdered whom.

Though, if I were in a book it would not be a Mystery novel, because I hate those, and, really, who would be a murderer in my own book besides ME?

(Damn. I just realized I had a FT a minute ago. It took me three tries to spell important. Impotent kept getting mixed in... Much to my chagrin, my left fist has now relaxed, now that I have acknowledged it's feelings. Blah. Fine! Mr. Left-Fist, i am listening now. Yeah, yeah, it's important that you feel impotent, having no control makes me angry. Helpless. You, as the left fist, are the most angry- since you are the non-dominant hand, and so you feel even more impotent than the right. Grrr! If you weren't the hand I'd slap you! This is SO not where i was going with this blog... and now my beginning is all wrong, since i DID figure out the point of the Left-fist thing...)

Ah. Well, I guess you can see my problem with Mystery novels.

Robin Williams, in the voice of the genie in Aladdin, says Well, I feel sheepish in an attempt to get us back on track.

You see, that movie, Aladdin, was on in the waiting room of the plasma place, which is where I last had an internal-rage-tantrum.

Garret was donating plasma, and he took me with him. I read in the car for the first two hours, but then the sun went down, and it was too cold to stay in the car. I tried. So I went in and got the spot in the corner with my back to a wall. It was loud and tense, but I was doing okay. Trying to think about other things, trying to read my book, and I calmed down a bit.

But then this girl had a death wish.

Because there were literally dozens of empty seats, and she wanted to press in right on top of me. Standing up! With her foot on the chair RIGHT NEXT TO ME.

I stared at her a little. But she wouldn't go away. And my body was vibrating with adrenaline, and sitting in that cold wash of rage that floods my blood. And she wouldn't go away.

And I got very angry.

I finally stomped up and across the room from her, and I hated myself with every step. She challenged me, she threatened me, and I was a coward. I didn't twist my fingers into her hair and slam it into the wall, I didn't punch her in the face, I didn't stab a pencil into her neck. I wasn't even brave enough to yell at her, to tell her to get out of my space.

I was afraid. There were a lot of other people in the room. They would have attacked me, stopped me. I am a weak and cowardly person. Oh, and also a bully, because I am not sure what I would have done if there had been no witnesses. I probably would have still been a baby, but the likelihood of fighting her would have definitely gone up if she was alone.

So I just stared at her, and got lightheaded.

Garret finally came out and we went to the car. And I screamed at amanda some more, and tried to shame her into action, but she was still weak.

Garret put music on for me, which was a rare thing, since he doesn't like music. First he made the mistake of trying to tell me it was reasonable to not want to be put in jail, but he must have noticed reason was not the best way to calm me down.

Luckily, Jack off Jill was in the CD player, and it is excellent music to set homicidal fantasies to.

(Can't find just the song on YouTube, not without a bunch of stupid pictures. It doesn't look right if you watch-- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJaPcdRGc-o )

I listened to it on repeat a zillion times.

For homicidal ideation to be a successful deterrent to actual homicide, it helps to really immerse yourself in the fantasy. My brain is not easily tricked into this though. It knows that girl is not really dead and still wants to go kill her.

But I have a nice mental-music-video made up. And it is soothing to watch. There is a duality in this song that helps me, appeals to me. The chorus is- Drown drown drown myself, drown drown, drown myself.

I have to drown myself inside myself quite a lot. Most of amanda is not fit for human consumption, and i have to keep her locked away. i drown her, shove her down, smother her under the surface... this song knows the secret of that, and the trick of it.

You must promise-- shhh. not now, not now, someday. someday, someday when I am queen you can... and of course the best part of the music video in my head is when the RAGE finally gets to stab back with each drumbeat, and the ocean gets turned inside out, and the drowning is literal because of all the other people's blood.


Hush, baby.... Hush, baby.... Hush baby, go (back) to sleep.

Crisis mode- Hooray!! (not sarcasm)

ok, so i'm feeling slightly less dramatic. if i look too closely at my life, it still seems pretty depressing, yeah... endlessly so- BUT i'm trying not to think about it. also, i caved and had lots of milk, and then spent the last week trying to kick it again. so my crazed junkie withdrawal symptoms probably haven't been too helpful. plus i'm off the melatonin.... hmmm. gotta remember to take that tonight.

so, ironically, i have been wishing for a crisis.

seriously.

(now, one might think i am IN a crisis mode, what with all my whining and black depression. not so. this is just the tedium of everyday.)

a nice little earthquake or something. someone should die, start gushing blood, lose a limb or two. that would be awesome... why? because!!! i totally rock in an actual crisis.

here's my theory- so, pretty much all the time, my body FEELS like there is a crisis. fight or flight, that kind of thing. my sensory crap is constantly freaking out. i'm tense, poised to spring, ready to kill the bad guy... except of course, there never is a bad guy. i'm always "overreacting." the noise that just made me jump was NOT a gunshot or even anything remotely threatening... but my heart is pounding, i am SURE there is DANGERDANGERDANGER!!!

are you imagining this?

so, your body is telling you DANGERDANGER!!! but since you are unfortunately not a complete idiot-- your more logical brain can see there is nothing wrong. it tries to assure you that you are freaking out over nothing, just the phone ringing, the cat shifting it's weight. the UPS man has left several packages without mishap- it is very unlikely he will suddenly decide to break in the house and stab you, so it seems a little silly to hide under the bed when he knocks on the door...

but you do. you hide. and you coil your fists.

and the anger is just so huge after awhile, all that coiled adrenaline... wanting something to hit, to fight. but there is only you. stupid, stupid you, freaking out over nothing.

so most of the time, you are the object of all that anger, because it has to go somewhere. and your body's stupidity in creating it in the first place makes it easy to hate yourself for being such a pointless, illogical creature. you and whoever is unlucky or crazy enough to stay in your path.

but here is the wonderful thing about crises... there is something to DO.

instead of a spinning, helpless, pointless-- DANGERDANGER!!! with no one to kill, attack, fight to the death, spinning, spinning, no where to go, turning back in on myself, self-destruction, circling, circling.... there is a beautiful clarity. there is PLAN, KNOW, DIRECTION, GO GO GO

green means go.

i love green.

garret woke me up out of a dead sleep a few weeks ago, and said, "i need you to drive me to the hospital." it was terrific. i usually throw a fit if someone tries to wake me up, takes me a long time, i get tangled in dreams, sure that waking up means death to me. i also have never driven the huge van he has because it is big and scary and i hadn't driven at all in about a year, and of course i hate people and doctors, so there were several "small" things i would have been angry and stressed about under other circumstances. but he looked really bad and i didn't know what was wrong, so i blissfully thought there was a chance he was going to die, and i was able to function perfectly. (btw, he's fine now. had surgery that day and was home later.)

i remember zac as a baby in his car seat, laughing and laughing over a shel silverstein poem i had just told him--

when the light is green you go, when the light is red you stop, but what do you do when the light turns blue, with orange and lavender spots?

he kept doing a big exaggerated shrug as he asked orange and lavender spots??? and then bursting into laughter.

what do i do?

shrug. i dream of hurricanes. i dream of florida. i dream of green lights.

green means GO!