radio silence

Disavowal.

2007-07-20T20:28:11Z

I absolutely, positively am not developing a crush on one of my co-workers. I do not feel stupidly awkward whenever we're near. I am not scrupulously careful not to touch him, sit near him, look at him. It is only the awkwardness of a new job, only that which makes me so eager to impress him. My hands do not tremble when he speaks to me; his voice does not make my heart race. And by no means did I just click from the footer of one of his e-mails to his personal blog, where I read his "about me" page, finding myself flushing as I illicitly discovered things we have in common.

Nor did I dream about him last night, a dream which faded immediately upon waking, but still left me desperately wet, aching to my marrow with longing.

We are no better than schoolchildren, even now.

On human relationships.

2007-02-22T04:07:30Z

Yesterday it broke 40 for the first time in weeks, and it feels like a heat wave. I went without my hat and scarf today and, aside from getting ice-cold water dripped on the back of my neck as I left Butler (where, typically enough, there are no gutters at the moment due to construction), it feels pretty great. I'm reveling in being able to put my hair-clips in while looking in a mirror, so they're not all crooked and retarded-looking, instead of having to take them off every time I put my hat on, inevitably leaving me with odd clumps of hair sticking up when I put them back in by feel in class. (I know it's a stupidly minor thing, but there it is. The clothing stuff is maybe one of the reasons my favorite seasons are Spring and Autumn -- in the Spring I love the freedom of wearing tank tops and runners again, and in the winter I get all excited about climbing back into my trenchcoat and steel-toed boots.)

As I'm heading home, it seems like everyone on my block is outside, enjoying the nice weather. There are groups of teenagers in the street, clustered around parked cars with the radios blasting, slagging each other. Adults are on the sidewalks in twos and threes, the men drinking cheap beer, the women chattering in high-pitched Spanish.

It's a Dominican neighborhood; it sometimes occurs to me that I might look out-of-place in this far corner of Manhattan that has not yet (quite) been gentrified. I'm not the only white college kid, but there are only one or two others. Of course, having grown up in New Mexico, being surrounded by Dominicans feels perfectly safe and natural. Occasionally I rather regret that I haven't picked up more Spanish, though. It seems that it would be far more useful than Japanese or Irish or whatever it is I'm "learning" at the moment.

But I digress. As I'm walking past these kids in the street, I sort of smile to myself. "Humans are out, doing human things," I think, with genuine affection for the whole human race. But right away, I wonder at the implicit disassociation in the phrase. Not that it's any sort of revelation that I've always felt I was on the outside, looking in. I don't know whether I should blame the abuse I went through in middle school or something inherently withdrawn and mistrustful in my nature, but there it is. It's not that I've never felt close to another human being; it's more that it never seems to last when I do. Despite what I say about trust, I find it fairly easy to give someone a first chance. In fact, I give my trust very easily, like I give my heart. It just seems that they always do something to screw it up.

I'm very sensitive, probably too sensitive. After someone has once let something slip that seems to give away that they see me with some slight bit of disrespect, I become paranoid that they really dislike me, that they're humoring me. Just as I treasure compliments, I never really forget anything that seemed to me to be a slight, even if it was said in jest or with affection.

Worse is when someone who means well says something that seems, to me, to betray the fact that they misapprehend some essential fact about my nature. When I attempt to describe these moments to someone, I always think of the Cure song "How Beautiful You Are"; a song which was, apparently, inspired by something written by Baudelaire. You open yourself up to someone; you feel that they are the only ones in the world who truly understand you, who ever have. And then they say something so -- completely wrong, something which makes you realize you were wrong about them ever understanding.

I know that sounds hopelessly emo. It's true, though; and I never quite forgive someone for it, even though I know it to be ridiculous. I always draw the same conclusion as poor Robert Smith: "Understanding is a dream; and no one ever knows or loves another."

Instead of providing any examples from my own life, which would necessarily carry their burdens of guilt and drama, I will ask you to imagine the following, entirely hypothetical, scenario: say you have a real thing for someone, a good friend of yours. (I'm sick of writing gender-neutral pronouns, so you're just going to have to transpose in your own head to fit your gender/orientation. I'm sorry if that makes it seem less relevant to you.) You spend a lot of time together, you have a lot in common, you think he must feel the same way. One night, you're out together, you've had a few drinks. You screw up your courage. The perfect moment comes. You look into his eyes, you're practically close enough to kiss him. "I love you," you breathe.

He grins. "Aw, I love you too," he says, putting his arm around you instead of kissing you. "You're like a sister to me." And then, because he feels so close to you and trusts you, he proceeds to confide in you about this girl he really fancies.

You see? Something like that happens, and everything about your relationship with someone becomes uncertain. You suddenly realize that you're not living in the same world as them, that your perspectives of reality are fundamentally askew. After that, it becomes difficult not to distance yourself; you're all too aware that, not only was the connection not what you thought it was, but it was so damn easy to really believe that it was there, that it was real. You still like them, but you're afraid you're going to fool yourself again, and the next time, the letdown will be worse. And every time they say anything, you find yourself wondering to what extent you should believe it. It's like you just realized that you're not speaking quite the same language as someone else, but it's impossible to translate, to figure out exactly where things stop matching up.

This may be why I'm always so eager to begin relationships, and then, a few months later, equally eager to end them. It builds up after a while, the minor betrayals. The time I was trying to look sexy and he laughed and called me "cute". The time I was jealous when he went out with his sister, and gave in to a petty attempt to make him feel bad about it. The time he said something stupid during sex and I forgot myself and laughed at him. You spend too much time around someone, you start learning all their really irritating habits. They start being boring and predictable. But I don't think it's that which drives me away so much as the realization that they must be starting to feel the same way about me.

And why is it that I'm convinced that, the better someone knows me, the less they will like me? Imposter syndrome again? Probably I'm just projecting my own neuroses onto others, since that is what inevitably happens to me. As I get to know someone better, they gradually lose their attraction; it is as if, once I learn all their weaknesses, I despise them for being, well, human and flawed.

A. has taken to telling me, over and over again, that I'm "a good person." I don't know what it means in his language, or why he's decided it's important for me to hear it. But every time he says it, I feel it alienates me a little bit more.

On the other hand, people occasionally make observations about me which are scarily true. One of the things A. said to me about a month into our relationship is that the most important thing to me is my independence, my freedom. There's nothing that will make me angry like the perception that I'm being limited.

I like to keep people around who say true things about me. As should be obvious by now, one of my favorite pastimes is self-analysis, so nothing attracts me quite as much as someone who is willing to engage in that analysis with me.

I should write about M. at work and our discussion about women, but that will also be lengthy, so I'll save it for another day.

Accents

2007-02-20T20:49:02Z

The turmoil of emotions that has been inspired in me, of late, by hearing someone with a British (or, god forbid, Irish) accent is too muddled and intense to bear inspection. Longing, lust, sorrow, guilt, terror. There is something very like homesickness and something not unlike grief. It all combines into a sort of fascination, or perhaps paralysis. Someone standing behind me in the grocery line says "thanks a million" and I want simultaneously to kiss him and burst into tears.

Living in London for a time would either cure or kill me.

This story is completely true.

2007-02-20T20:12:48Z

This morning, when A. helped me start the dryer, there was a thumping noise; he commented that it sounded like I had shoes in there. We laughed.

He went home to shower, and I went downstairs to fetch my laundry. Imagine my surprise to discover that I had dried, along with my own clothes, a pair of kids' shoes and exactly two white socks that were not mine.

I also found money in the dryer. First a couple of one dollar bills, which fell out as soon as I opened the door. "Damn it," I sighed, "I washed money again!" (This happens to me all the time.)

Then I found a twenty-dollar bill. Then another. "Cool," I thought, "I had more money in my pockets than I thought." Since I hadn't done laundry for a couple of weeks, this was still not surprising.

Then, a hundred dollar bill fell out. It was followed, incredibly enough, by another; then by another pair of twenties. I knew then that the money could not possibly be mine; I don't even remember the last time I saw a hundred dollar bill. Stunned, I pocketed the money, laid the shoes neatly on the table with the socks tucked into them, and (after checking inside the dryer for any further windfalls) hauled my laundry back upstairs.

I haven't told a soul about this, and unless it somehow becomes apparent to me whose money it was (for instance, they post a flyer in the laundry room), I plan to keep the money.

_radio__silence @ 2006-08-12T01:34:00

2006-08-12T05:37:22Z

i've stopped eating, almost. it doesn't seem to matter.

i've become a machine that runs alternatingly on hope and despair.

i'm broken too, i'm as broken as you. the only difference is, i don't get to be angry about it.

_radio__silence @ 2006-08-10T01:45:00

2006-08-10T05:49:15Z

hello, ladies and jellyspoons. miss me? for awhile there, i didn't have to live in someone else's head. that's all over now, though. so i'll probably be here more. ah, livejournal, the land of passive-aggressiveness and repressed emotions.

in other news, i need an "eating disorders for dummies" book. every time i decide to starve myself until i start losing some weight, i get so... dizzy... and stupid... and i eventually wind up eating the first thing that comes near me. which doesn't help my self-esteem any. also, i've tried to make myself vomit, but, damn! it's actually really hard.

okay, so, how dumb do you have to be to not be able to figure out how to successfully implement an eating disorder? fuckin a.

brownies.

2006-04-21T04:56:03Z

you made him brownies, as an excuse to see him, as a way to show you still care about him.

he brought them to me.

i'd like to say: "they were delicious."

but really, they were pretty mediocre.

i should send this in to PostSecret

2006-03-09T01:28:32Z

4 hours after your boyfriend dumped you... he and i had AMAZING sex.

hahaha... i WIN.

irony

2006-01-07T07:32:31Z

is there anything in the world worse than bad illicit sex?

found

2005-12-24T03:43:32Z

in the notebook he left on my desk, buried amidst phone numbers and lists and mundane sorts of notes, and rough drafts of the only poem he ever sent me, i find:

"one step too far
this journey's ending
we travelled so far
now we have to start over again"

and

can you think of anything you
could say that I'd be able to
believe that would stop me freaking
out all of sunday that you're
killing us (keeping me awake all
Saturday night, sick to my stomach)

and, at the bottom of a list of things that he wanted to remember to pack to come visit me:

favourite food?
bath type?
Picnic on roof while I'm there.
N.Y., Alb + Dub stars (stats?) plus candle-lit
bathroom, petals covering floor.
Petals on couch, carry her there

and this
Why love
my language is failng me, my english
wont suffice, I need to fall back
onto physics to ~~grasp~~relate (this inner light)

it's a doppler shift of emotion (thats
setting me to rights)
we wish we'd shared the seconds of
all our lives to date and we feel
we should have been there, through
all the different

~~I'm 13 its my first kiss~~
and I'm with you and the time stretches
away, every second filled with moments
and in my ~~way~~ it's this
I'm 13 and I'm kissing her the fire
burning higher

I'm 23 and crying broken down and
falling fast
we're 17 and in my bed our moment
coming fast
Now I'm 25 and ? spanching
even though I know it
wont last
recovered what I lost
I'm 36 looking deep into our child
eyes
We're 49 and considering the changes
in our lives
I'm 27 now and I see you for the
first time the future passion glowing
out from

Then the clock hand pushes over and
the second starts again

And through it all is focus on the one
fear that I have, that I wont get the
chance to age through these moments
eeeehhhhh

_radio__silence @ 2005-11-22T01:34:00

2005-11-22T06:35:43Z

what are you even doing here? there's nothing for you here. there's only me, and that's little enough.

all i have to offer you is a broken heart.

_radio__silence @ 2005-11-20T06:23:00

2005-11-20T11:29:26Z

The third excerpt represents the element of Water. It speaks of pure spiritual influences and feelings of love, and is drawn from The Man against the Sky by Edwin Arlington Robinson:

He comes, and probably for years Will he be coming yet, -- Familiar as an old mistake, And futile as regret.

Bokardo

Well, Bokardo, here we are; Make yourself at home. Look around -- you haven't far To look -- and why be dumb? Not the place that used to be, Not so many things to see;

gothest post EVAR.

2005-11-20T09:05:54Z

i feel utterly shattered and destroyed, down to my very soul, and i can't even tell you why.

astray

2005-11-13T22:39:18Z

how have i wandered so far off my path? i blinked, and in that blink, i became someone i am no longer proud of. i am no longer living in a way to inspire others. i have allowed my insecurities to control me.

but that's all going to change. the ends justify the means. one more wrong will finally make everything right.

i've become blind, have i lost my mind?
yes and no, but Annie would i lie to you...
i've got control, this is my show
listen to me, Annie... would i lie to you?

here we go again...

2005-11-11T05:38:44Z

that random reinforcement gets you every time, doesn't it? and you're not listening when you tell yourself he doesn't mean it, he's just going to hurt you, he's too young...

fuck.

When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
And I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
And I get to the bottom and I see you again
Yeah yeah yeah

Well do you, don't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Look out helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter

Look out helter skelter
She's coming down fast
Yes she is
Yes she is coming down fast

make-believe we never needed any more than this

2005-10-27T01:32:29Z

because: he has fallen asleep in my bed, curled on his side, in front of his laptop, with his arms thrown across his eyes, and right at this moment, i am so in love with him that it hurts to look at him;

because of all of this, and lest this journal become too angst-filled, i just want to take this moment to say:

truly, i am unreasonably lucky.

and even without knowing the outcome, i can tell you now: there are moments that make it all worthwhile.

with friends like these...

2005-10-20T02:22:57Z

kindly refrain from psycho-analyzing me based on my livejournal. you may know me well, but you don't know what it's like, being me.

_radio__silence @ 2005-10-19T16:10:00

2005-10-19T20:11:42Z

i thought i'd get you out of my system;
instead, i love you more every day.

i like to pretend that i'm a manipulative bastard, but really, i'm not in control of anything.
i am love's slave, love's whipping boy,
love's fool.

other worlds

2005-10-19T19:48:08Z

last night, i felt so keenly that we're running out of time. wanted to apologize to him for everything, for the fact that this is the wrong world, not the world where i am his alone. i can almost see us there, together, where my happiness with him is unmarred by this confusion...

"in a parallel universe--" i began to say, and he covered my mouth with his hand.

how i want to believe it truly will be okay. i feel like two different people in a single head, a single heart.

i am so in love, with each of them, but it is different... i cannot feel it at once, somehow. i have vowed not to choose, and yet, moment by moment, i am choosing... never the same choice twice in a row.

worth it?

2005-10-18T02:58:37Z

yesterday, he said something about being in love with me.

"i'm afraid," i said, "that i'm only going to hurt you."

"of course you are," he told me. "that's how these things work."

and he held me close. "but it's all right," he added, "i know what i'm getting into."

do you really, my darling boy, my Adonis? do you really?

still... i am sorry in advance for all the wrongs i've yet to do you.

(and why is it that, even when i warn them, they don't listen?)

ulterior motives

2005-09-26T05:28:46Z

did you really seduce him just to prove that he couldn't resist you?

you bitch.

_radio__silence @ 2005-09-19T02:13:00

2005-09-19T06:14:07Z

by the time i finally get what i want, will i still want it?

sinister

2005-09-05T06:57:18Z

i once got a fortune cookie which read: "Your loyalties will be rewarded."

i thought it was a threat.

_radio__silence @ 2005-09-05T02:55:00

2005-09-05T06:56:21Z

if my cat were in a burning building, i would risk my life to save her.

i don't think this is true of any person i know.

_radio__silence @ 2005-08-05T08:29:00

2005-08-05T14:29:44Z

i'm so tired of humans and their drama.

i want someone to share things with. but i don't trust anyone.