predictions and journals

at the end of every relationship, it’s the same thing: the predictions. the ending of who is going to be doing what when how and whom and when this is all going to happen.

I predict that Paul will be dating again in a few months, and probably getting close to someone shortly after that. He cannot be alone, period.  He will not mourn the end of our relationship or mourn me, and hence why I’ve been doubly amused to find out that the vultures were already tap dancing around my grave thanks to Paul telling me.

Paul perdicts I’ll end up w/ either Ben or Danny. Ben because he’s new, european, tall etc ad nasuam and Danny because he’s history and apparently my eyes get big as saucers when I talk abotu either one of them.  I apparently can make no choices of my own .

mysterious twin

So I was thinking recently, thanks in part to a fantasy book I’ve been currently reading that is heavy towards politics about relationships and involvement.

Mainly the emotional involvement with friends and acquaintances. Where does one end and one begin?

Because lets face it, apparently when it comes to the ‘friend’ pool, i’ve got some sort of defect. I was thinking about how i collect people, like one would collect dolls or stamps. If one didn’t work out, oh well, there was always someone else would take their place. Perhaps I’m confusing friends with boyfriends?

No matter, the sentiment is the same. But i’m seriously beginning to believe that I do have some defect because it seems, if i ignore you, then i’m a terrible friend but if I spoil you, i’m buying your love.

cut-off point

I told someone 30 was my cut-off point. If I don’t accomplish a lot of what I want to do before I’m 30 — I’m gone. Now before you start going “Um, Lisa, that is SUCH a cry for help” and calling your local suicide hotline, don’t bother. 98% chance that I won’t off myself (I made a funny!). Anyone who has known me for years that these things pass with time and I’m never serious — however, I know that many of us feel, that from time to time, life isn’t worth living. And sometimes I’m happy that I made it through my first suicide attempt 10 years ago, and other times I wish I would have died. But that is neither here nor there. I’m just telling you how it is folks, that is why you are here.

I will make no illusions that I’m being serious. For a few days, i was dead serious. But, I have (and will always know) that this passes with time. Being bipolar manic/depressive isn’t cool kids. It sucks major ass. Lemme tell you.

But things are looking up. I’m removing myself from one situation and starting anew life. I’m really digging someone I’ve been digging for 6 months and he’s mein gott(g). I had to say it to taunt him.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, there is so much, that you as a general public are not aware of. So much lies behind me then what meets the eye. Some people are not comfortable with knowing THAT MUCH about me — others want to own my soul. I give what I can — when I can. I give to those I feel deserve it and when I feel they need to have it. It’s not a game — it’s my life.

i’ve always been strong — and I’ve always attempted to make some sort of peace within my life. I’ve always strived to be the VERY FUCKING BEST that I can be. And that threatens people — and it’s harmful to others. My megalomania can be daunting. Fuck, I just created a new IM name: LishaIsGod. heh. Cos, I am god. this is my fucking world and I’m letting you enjoy it. If you piss me off, nothing a little DENY won’t work magic on.