In the last week or so I have sent Dis five F.U.C.K files. This is number six. Second one I have written in an hour. The name ‘simunye’ will become synonymous with “shut up bitch!” *laugh*
I warned him though. Pages and pages of articles I have written for my own sheer pleasure sit on my harddrive. Once they were sitting on my webpage, but no more. I am moving everything over to a new site, and have been toying with the idea of not putting ANYTHING up that I have written. Sometimes it seems really pointless because after all my talk of how I write for only myself, I have this tinge of pleasure when people tell me that I am neat-o. Makes me feel ‘accepted.’ Maybe I am not so heartless after all?
Dis’s only word is “gimme”.
Well Dis, this one is for you.
I yawn but I am not tired. Liters of Diet Coke run through my veins. My lungs are clouded with all the tar from my chain smoking. My eyes feel heavy and its late. 3:39am.
“You know if I leave you now, it doesn’t mean I will love you any less.”
– Sarah McLachlan.
I am a big Sarah fan. Have been for some time now. First heard “Possession” back when I was working for a music store, years ago. Back then I hated femme music. Majority of the people that worked there were your typical ‘alterna-teen’ groupies with the black clothes, nose piercings and worshipping the Sarah’s and the Tori’s like there was no tomorrow. Drove me up the wall.
But then I heard “Possession” one night. I remember, I was watching MTV and was up late at night. It was “120 Minutes”. I listened to the words. And I can remember putting down what I was reading and crying. Crying so hard that it lasted for a good five minutes before I could get myself under control.
I went into a different music store the next day and bought the tape. CDs were a luxury for me back then, hell I didn’t even have a computer.
How much her music has come to mean to me over the years. Memories, evoking images of situations.
Many moons later, someone contacted me on IRC. He thought it was interesting that not only was I willing to open myself up so publicly on-line (via my webpages). To talk about the situations, stories, events that have occurred in my life, regardless of whether they were good or bad. Sarah came up as the topic. We talked about her music, her ability to evoke emotions (He is an Objectivist, which explains everything). We both agreed on one thing: we both ironically do what we call our “Sarah Test”. We throw Sarah on the stereo and lie in bed with our significant others. And if the music can’t lift them to the ethereal world that she creates, then we both no longer date that person.
Possession still remains the favorite of all her songs to me. The depth, the passion, the emotions the feelings. Just put the song on now. Chances are I will now begin to cry.
I have always known what I wanted from a relationship. Prince Charming and Roark (from “The FountainHead”) rolled into one. Some crazy fuck who is not only brilliant and also his own man, but passionate and sensual as well. Do you have ANY idea how rare that is to find?
A memory I like to conjure up occasionally is when I met another Sarah fan. This was quit sometime ago. Not even a year, and yet it seems so distant and yet close at the same time.
We had been talking for quit a while, and we both wanted to meet. We agreed on a time and a place, and he drove 900 miles for a weekend. I remember pulling into our meeting place, and as I parked my car, “Possession” came on the radio. I started crying so hard, because it was like an omen that this was a good thing.
When I actually ‘met’ him, I remember opening the door and running down the hall. There he stood all 6’7 of him, and I did a running jump to hug him. I remember looking into his eyes, and seeing that deep rooted passion for me burning there.
We listened to Sarah all weekend while making love. That mystical ethereal kind of love that is so rare, and brings you so close to each other that you are almost frightened by the power of it.
Sad to say we are no longer together. I have this wonderful habit of attracting “Intellectual Losers”. The overly intelligent guys who lack no social skills. Even a kiss is shocking to them in many aspects. One by one they break my heart. “Your too much, your too this, your too that”. And yet, they contact me “I was wrong..I miss/need/desire/love you”. By then its too late. Someone else has taken their place and the cycle repeats itself.
Deep melancholy sigh.
The last serious relationship I was in before I was in the one I am in now lasted almost a year. He truly loved me unconditionally. Have you ever had anyone love you unconditionally before? God, it’s a scary feeling. No matter how many times we fought, broke up, or I had hurt him, he always was there for me. One time, a few months ago, I had gone into a panic attack. Suddenly I didn’t want to exist as ‘simunye’. I wanted to kill the bitch. She (or me for that matter) had gotten me into enough trouble with mailing lists, flame wars, you name it, that I had to kill her. But I knew, to kill her would be killing my innermost self.
My ex and I had been arguing for sometime previous to this incident. I kept calling his house. He was literally the only person I could talk to at that point. No answer. I panicked. If he left me, my life would be over. I depended on him that much, whether I liked it or not.
I remember driving to his house, all 20 minutes away. I had worked myself up into such a state that I did not recognize the street I was on, even though I had driven on it perhaps a million times.