Looking for faces in the clouds....

Life is strange indeed.




Fleeting and fragile. Ephemeral. Tragically beautiful.

And we, the players, are the Dark Vibrancy of the universe--beings of energy, of gravity--the supermassive blackholes of mankind. We are creatures of grace and splendor. Blistering black stars emitting light and rays of energy so intense it can burn and mold the universe, even as we collapse inward on ourselves. There is an event horizon that exists in our souls. Beyond that, no light can survive.

Yet we glow. We glow brighter than any star. We emit light and chaos that looks so controlled, so glorious, even as we are on pathways of self destruction.
Beautiful necessities.
Rarities.
The strangest, most observed, least understood stars in all the galaxies combined. We are silent in our screams. Not even sound escapes the gravitational pull of our inevitable demise...





The words are prettier in my head.
Everything is choppy right now.



Did my first fast yesterday! Only 24 hours, but I made it. I had one slimfast near the end, which I'm angry at myself for, but I was at my security job, and had to deal with a disruptive student, and I had gotten very tired and dizzy. I woke up at 124.6 today. Down from 125.6 yesterday. Then when I stepped on the scale after having first meal today, and going to my doctors, I was down to 123.6! My body seriously confuses the HELL outta me.




A friend of mine, C, has turned serious stalker. We've been friends for 7 years, and he suddenly has realized he's in love with me. He started getting really depressed and I tried to make him feel better, but then he started showing up at my different jobs. When I got sick, I didn't tell him, and dropped off the face of the earth for about a week, and he started sending me shit on line that was really angry, and then sent me a text message. "I'm having dark solutions to dark thoughts about me and you."





....right. I had a nightmare about my ex after he sent that. That she and I were dancing. The one who ran the cult, and fucked me up and gave me PTSD. When I dream about her, I always feel like it's inevitable that I return. Like...I'm defeated in my dreams, and I can never, ever escape. Like I'm almost relieved it's happened, because I don't have to stress anymore, and I can tell myself it's not that bad.....

....I talked to him again. Talked him down. But I'm starting to get pissed. I'm going to meet with him, in public, with some friends that are very, very large (guy friends) and confront C. Tell him we can't be friends anymore, and that he needs to get his shit together. I'm going to word it the way I really feel--not afraid for my life, because while I am, it's not the sole motivator (just a HUGE ONE). No...but as being the best for him. He's starting to get somewhere now that's VERY BAD. And he's going to do something he regrets, and he needs to really, really just....get his act together, and he can't do that with me around. When he's more stable, and able to handle what we don't have together, and when he has gotten over this sudden obsession, then maybe we can try to be friends again. I'm just so pissed, because this guy has been one of my best friends for almost a full decade now...and I feel like he's taking my friend away from me.

Failsauce.

What makes things strange is that...I have been the victim of abuse before. No one has hit me. At least more than once. But I have been abused in various other ways, and ways that still weigh heavily on me, but I can tell you that unlike others you may see, who find themselves falling into the same traps again, I don't. I refuse to. I get so angry when I see it coming. When people pull shit like this, I don't cower, I don't get scared. While I have that startling realization that things can go bad with anyone, at any time, and trust is always relative to the moment and mental stability of the person (and that you don't ever truly know another person)...that realization does not translate over into crippling fear.

It's like getting my wallet stolen.
I get angry.
I get pissed.
I get furious.

How dare you think to do this to me? To act like this? To pull this shit? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you think I'll lay here and fucking die? That you deserve somehow to have me be with you? To be more than my friend? You're a great person, but you deserve someone who cares about you, and you cannot make me care, and I will not make myself miserable for you. How dare you presume to include me in your stupid dellusions without my explicit permission?
I will never let someone hurt me. Kill me. No matter how much I love them.
Because nobody is worth that much affection.
In my mind, it's being nine or ten again. My stepmom of the time hauling off and smacking me. And me...not crying. Not qualing. But me freezing. And then me getting angry. Attacking her until she cowered. Until she feared me. Until she screamed for me to stop. It's baring my teeth and screaming at the top of my lungs You are not my mother! You will NEVER put a finger on me!


It's facing off to JR again when his gun was held in my face, laughing while everyone else was screaming. Grabbing that fucking barrel. Don't be such a fucking pussy. Pull the trigger, or put it away. But I didn't take your shit, retard.



It's curling my hands into fists, throwing my head back, and shouting. It's the alpha dog inside this small females body. The fire and force that lies dormant. The rage that never fully fades.
It is the survivor. The fierce torrential rains. The fucking animal that I love inside of me.



Do not presume to dominate me. Do not presume to make your victim.
Do not presume to make your fascination. Your obsession.
I will destroy you. Accidentally, or at will.
And if I turn my sites on you, and tear you down of my volition, with purpose, cause, and the full intensity of this wrath inside of me?
I know full well, it will be my own mercy that will allow you to survive.



I was the victim before.
I will never be your victim again.
I will never be anyones victim again.
The only person allowed to hurt me is me.
The only person allowed to kill me is myself.
I will choose when I die. I will choose when I live.
I will choose when I burn.
I will choose when I fly.
And if someone takes that choice away from me?
I will damn well make them pay in the process.



I will never, ever, ever go down without a fight.