sara's LiveJournal

happening:	another dream
time:	wed12:20p.

I had a very strange dream last night and need to write it down. I can't remember all of it, there was a lot of lead-in to the section of the dream that I do remember. I was a citizen, or a leader of a village which was connected to a well-established, old native american community across a long and narrow bridge covering a section of mist and uncertainty. What was under the mist was not death, but it was not desirable; I was not afraid of it but could not go there. For a non-warlike reason (perhaps ceremonial) I was to fight the leader or cheif of the native american community and they were aiding me in creating a gun to use in the battle, but the making of the weapon was entirely up to me. for a while, I thought my victory was certain with the gun I would construct, not because I was a master gunsmith but of something like european bravado and presumed superiority of weapons. So a lot of preparations took place. and a few times, as I was walking to the bridge to cross and on the other side was definitively my life in college park, I nearly fell into the mist, and became aware of the danger. and I knew that if I unwillingly fell into the mist, I would certainly die. so the action of falling was scary. and the bridge was a perfectly paved road which opened and closed to accomodate people passing, but it just floated through the air. I was also making a vehicle to aid in the fight, but had much less control over the planning because I had no knowledge in making a car. in destruction I had plenty of understanding. as the car was being made, because despite my lack of involvement it was still a representation of me, I looked over at it and saw it was a state-of-the-art grey SUV. Then I saw Mark from CDepot looking at it, and he looked at me as if to acknowledge that it was mine and make contact with me, but said nothing, and walked away. more later (ballet.) but soon after that I looked and finally saw the chief and he saw my gun, which was a black rifle with a bayonet and some other things coming off of it, he said, I know now which weapon I must use, and he said, the pitchfork it must be, or something, and was brought by a woman a pitchforck which had both limp and straight tines, many of them, and had blood stains on the tips. and I was really moved by his selection of weaponry and certainty, and came to doubt the importance of my gun, and wanted to walk across the bridge (because it was my daily ritual) and I came to the bridge and it was open for me, and then I thought about it, and realized I had no idea where I was coming from or going, and the bridge would not open, and unwittingly I fell off the side.

Contributions: add your thoughts.

happening:	housemates
time:	wed3:56a.
mood:	infuriated.

it is important to remember that being in my house and the unhappiness that it brings me is not a reflection of me. and I'm just going to have to build a fortress around that to survive the next 8 months. 8 months. and I have good friends. so, it will work out ok, because I won't have to be there, aka college park, aka my house, all the time.

I am simultaneously reflecting that they weren't really that good of friends to begin with. yes, I need better friends. Well, I have better friends. which is better. than my other friends. and not having them. the better friends, that is.

hoo, hoo, I am so funny. full of laughter and joy, that's me, especially after watching trainspotting and apocolypse now back to back. the extended apocolypse now. I've never seen the original, which I think is cool in a way. I like long movies. I don't like short movies unless they're good-- I guess the point is that longer movies have more deliberacy, and therefore a higher chance of being good :o)

anyway, off of this for now.

my housemates really do suck, any support that can be garnered in this arena, slash reassurance, would be greatly appreciated. SERIOUSLY. I just don't often want to believe that people suck to the extent that my housemate suck. but then maybe it is a proximity thing too. and also, I think it's really only one of them who sucks so outrageously, but that the other three put up with/further it reflects poorly on them as well.

um, yeah. I am hesitant to post too much blind anger at the risk that someone, the wrong person, I don't know who, will read it and get hurt-- like christine did many moons ago. that'll learn me, right? from an email I won't send about an upcoming house meeting:

Maybe you guys should get together and smoke some pot before the meeting,
or whatever it takes for you to stop being at each others' throats.

go me, I rule.

night all.

Contributions: add your thoughts.

happening:	just thoughts
time:	wed1:26a.

I'm at bruce and cheryl's, having watched, again, the actor's commentary on fotr with b/c b/c they wanted to watch it, though cheryl has never seen the extended edition alone.

and it snowed at some point. I just watched the matrix, too.

I am dubious of this journal and of writing in general, and, I think, not unfairly so. but that's another topic.

I was giong to say how being here feels familiar in an odd way, but it slipped away. I was going to say about tim.

tim. he sticks in my mind as both a lover and a tormenter, and both with near equal fortitude. he of course breaks my heart repeatedly, and we can't seem to work things out. and he does these things simply by nature of his being, which he makes fundamentally clear. by nature of my being, no matter how hard I try, the mroe I put in, the mroe I expect or hope for in return. or maybe it is something slightly different.. it isn't that I anticipate the return of intensity from him.. it is something which moves deeply and almost silently within me as well.. what is it? what is it?

well, if I don't love him, I don't love him. can I let go of him too easily? these things are often better left unsaid. simply bno their mysterious nature. I try too hard, often times, to teach nora and ioana the truths (well..) that I know about living, and they of course, do not know how to listen.. and I'm always pressing the issue.. and putting myself into their hands because.. well as cheryl would say I yet lack the fortitude to do otherwise. but perhaps this is not entirely true..

I want that to be my epitomal quote: "perhaps this is not entirely true.." but even that speaks of a dialogue that I'm not sure I want to acknowedge, or, preserving acknowledgement, participate in. because if you simply take that into consideration you surpass the BS with surprising speed. but sometimes, not enough speed; obviously there is learning to be done, always, but learning takes time, and is by nature the fruit of experience, and the experiences I have recently required have been of failure, giving up, letting go. ultimately letting go and embracing failure, encouraging it at times. why I am not sure, but again, sweet mystery of life at last I've found you.

lotr affects me every time I watch it and I see new insights and parallels to life and other movies (gotta love the priorities in that statement). I think that is the essence of good storytelling: that at its heart the act *of* storytelling itself is unveiling, that it reveals various truths simply (shoot me if I use this expression again) by nature of its being. and this is why stories themselves are so important, so essential to humans and how we make ourselves and our societies *around* stories and not necessarily concepts or ideals: because stories are the intersection of humanity and truth, stories are the manifestation of truth without sacraficing humanity. maybe ideas themselves, pure ideas, which is not to say "down with ideas," destroy humanity by overruling it. or maybe the domination of a culture by ideas, ergo, ideals. but I of course am an "idealist", or so I've been told. personally I just think I'm strong enough to not let go (?) of something which pushes onward, and not always have to know what that something is. or I hope I am; I am certainly not always, as the past few years have shown. learning one's voice is imperative. I could not allow my relationship with ivan is not an extension of my voice. I'm not sure what that sentence means but I'm leaving it becasue that's how it came out. the relationship with ivan was .. a fighting with myself, which does not really speak of ivan. but he knows this, on some level. I spend so much time trying to define what happened in terms of him, because this was wrong or that was wrong, or in some easily identifyable trait of myself-- but I should listen more, because obviously, as evidenced by my continued confusion, there is more to learn here.

anyway. a fortune teller in new orleans told me to get back in touch with him or risk pain. and it sticks in my mind, and the idea that 'knowing the path is not the same as walking the path;' certainly just those words-- the fortune teller's-- have cause thoughts which have changed myself.

and I spend too much time divining the nature of truth, but sometimes it is worht the wait.

happy to be here at bruce and cheryl's. happy for the week I've had, grateful for friday night (although it was dubious and I was drunk), grateful for my job and the amazing boys there: hot frank (ok WHOA that was supposed to say hot mark, mark is hotter than hot is hot, but frank is an interesting topic), SO endearing james who I want to hold forever and understand, um, hot mark, frank who I have a crush on apparently, and others.

frank. frank likes me and it is unexpected. MARK is trying to set me up with frank. james, since the beginning of the mark setting us up thing, has started talking to me-- ARE THEY RELATED? I like to think so. but can't tell. either way james is very cool but both he and mark have women. Frank would be very atypical for me and makes me nervous in that-- he's not artistic, he's kind of a non person, he dropped out of high school and is extremely and deeply injured (I think), and none of that matters except how I feel, except since I noticed how he feels, I can't tell how I feel, probably because I am scared of getting hurt because I don't know him. most of all I think he won't make a move and I won't make a move and he might start hating me, or worse, we'll have a weird friendship which is really us both dancing around feelings we wish were numb.

but I had a dream we were both in new york city and everyone deserted me and he was there. and he helped meand I trusted him. I need to tell him about this dream. but we never get tot alk at work, much less seriously. and now I'm afraid he thinks I hate him, no, I'm just.. I'm just weird as always and trying not to revert to some bourgeois outlook on how things should go.

bourgeois, incidentally, is an awesome word.

so: tell frank about the dream, call tim or don't call tim, I can't tell, probably don't (I want him to call me, call it a dumb girl thing whcih is of course sexist, I earnestly need a sign of his feelings and if they're no I'm as willing to take that as if they're yes, but I need to know, and not by his words, which lie, but his actions, which he is afraid of)-- ok so don't call him, yearn secretly for kenny, and wish I were slightly mroe kickass like alyssa.

'sit for now. pat is no longer in a coma I think. night night..

Contributions: add your thoughts.

happening:	strange days
time:	sun2:04p.
mood:	meaning strange..
music:	dmb live-- angel.

so things have been strange. I just had a revelation about being grounded, that I seem to float for a few days at a time above things before coming back down. I wonder what that continuum is about. it doesn't seem very zen, or very tibetan, but then you know, there is always soemthing to discover-- always something needing to be said.

I had a dream last night that I tried to build my father out of sand and I laid my hands upon him, he was laying on his back. and there were soem similarities to tim-- not physical-- I can't explain it-- the quality of the sand being caked up to create a person. I don't want to take that comparison too far though, except to say it was there. so I kept running my arms along this sand body and trying to be close to it, and at the same time I almost felt like I was close to an ocean? not sure about that though. and talking to the body and hoping it would respond and it said nothing, and started to come undone, and left an imprint on the place I had built it, which was in someone's back yard.

anyway, I have homework to do.

yes, homework. so here I go. doing homework. not smoking, not watching more tv, not pining over tim. which is most of what i do. and will he call me? ha, no. I will call him, because I'm a dork who got him a mirah autograph.

Contributions: add your thoughts.

happening:	going to california..
time:	wed3:39a.
mood:	ecstatic.

um so I just called tim today randomly and um
yeah. talked to him and I haven't in a really long time and as everyone knows I have been agonizing over it a bit and really it is desperate a bit, but what can you do so then he's like are you coming out for thanksgiving? and then he BOOKED A TICKET. at my approval of course. and we are splitting the cost. um. yeah. so then anyways. I worry always that I am not being strong enough, everyone knows that. so is letting him talk me into going out there not strong enough? and the question that's important is if that even is important. and I know but don't know that it's not. I want to see him, I'm so nervous, I'm in disbelief. but I would never have gone if he hadn't suggested it. he takes a lot of lead in our relationship which is funny because most of the time I feel like I'm the instigator. ti's so cute.

DID I MENTIOMN THAT I HAVEN'T TALKED TO HIM IN LIKE THREE WEEKS. I know that doesn't seem like a long time but really.. it is a long time. to me in my world of desperation and trying to get by day to day, it's a long time. and we hadn't mentioned thanksgiving almost since he left. and he was so set on it, I didn't even bring it up. oh my gosh, is that why he thought I called? I don't know. I called to say hi.. to hear his voice (which serenaded me yet again, dammit) I can't even say. why was he so in love with me this time? he really was, I dont' know why he was this time and other times seems bogged down.. is it the distance?

see to me the threesome is me, sean and tim. and why are there no women? I am trying to negotiate this idea of 'threesomes' but i dont' know where to go with it really.

garsh to see him!

"your hand, so hot
I wanted to hold
your hand, so hot
I wanted to show you--"
(lisa loeb, end of sandalwood)

I hope sean doesn't read this. yeah let me look into that.

Contributions: add your thoughts.

time:	sat7:14p.
music:	dave matthews band - satellite.

I can feel myself sneaking back to the place I used to be emotionally when I was seeing rachel and around thatt ime. given the gravity of her loss and my shortcomings within that it has been a much more tooth and nail process.. I have made several mistakes but I can see no way to have avoided them. I do not have regret for where I am now, only fear of not living up, and needing the support of people around me-- an existence which can only come to be in that state, of having support. and this is a place i have wanted to be since I lost her.. it has been my one real goal, to get back to that place, and when I've really gotten there, will I look back and realize thta it was not truly necessary? but it feel so much so, so burningly so now.

even to see her again, I could not take that. I guess I have had to do too much healing around having completely lost her. I know that i never will see her again, of course.

and now listening to satellite. I have realized the importance of other things in my life which are less so where I wanted or what i have wanted to be, and now I want to juts relax and watch a movie, so I think I will. like senior year in high school, and dmb, and loving my family despite their shortcomings, from whihc is born my love for myself.

Contributions: add your thoughts.

happening:	what do you do with a drunken sailor
time:	sat7:10p.

--earleye in the morning? heh.

I am neither drunken nor a sailor. I am at b/c's contemplating a couple of things. thinking 'everything I do, think and feel right now is underlying with the uncomfort of being w/b/c, and that affects my feeling of safety and security.' it's a good thing because it allows me to keep things in perspective and not feel constantly defensive. but then I realize, that of course I have felt defensive at times when I haven't been close w/b/c in the last year or so. almost 2 years. and on one hand I worry that things won't work out in the future, on the other hand I know that things will not work out if I sit around and worry about them and allow them to fester rather than either facing them or waiting until I can.

in a way I think everything falls away and I stand alone without really anything, and this is ok, but the need to keep living and this isn't perfect of course. I mean it's not like I can just keep breathing as a way of 'keeping living' because I need shelter and food and such and hopefully a space where I have privacy and can think, right, --blah.

back to b/c. I don't know. I keep being led back to them as a source of turmoil and I have this issue with being ashamed/fearful of being angry. so I somehow need reassurance of that. but anyway. source of turmoil, because I feel like a lot of the issue or my difficulty has been feeling totally stripped of my relationship with my family. I don't know where that came from, it's not from my family because nothing changed, it is not from me (is it?), well, I am not sure. but this feeling of living under a microscope, came from somewhere. and I honestly really feel like a lot of it comes from cheryl becuase that is her solution to practically everything and honestly I think that's why she is unhappy all the time. and she has this issue with always being right, in that she constantly needs to reassure herself that she is right and that she is in control, and it's just crazy. I don't want any of this.

the problem is honestly not that any of this matters to me, the problem is seriously that I see these problems and don't see a way out of them. I feel like confrontation is right out of it; I lack the support of having someone else with understanding. because I've thought about trying to talk to her about it calmly and I can't even imagine what to say, and she doesn't listen. and I honestly feel like it is just a bad idea to try to bear my heart to her.. not only do I htink it's non-porductive at this point (though who could be sure), but I just imagine it and I see myself being eaten alive, and it's not cool. I wish I had some space from the situation, honestly, because basically when it comes down to it, the situation is the worst part: I am renting from them for free. does this give them free range to treat me in anyway? no. and they're not treating me really badly, I just don't have very much power in the situation and i don't have the power to say no w/o being verbally chastised. and this honestly is something that can affect me very deeply. tim criticized me last week b/c I was talking about something involving cheryl yelling at me for picking at my arm in her presence, and I'm still taking it to heart.

so I need a job and I need to move out; it's do-able.

Contributions: add your thoughts.

happening:	melissa's house
time:	mon8:36a.
mood:	i proclaim my mood proudly:.

I went and stayed at melissa's last night. I wish I could have stayed for longer. cheryl is right about one thing-- I am permanently seeking a place to think of as 'home.' maybe not permanently, but at least at this moment. cheryl will use that as a way to be manipulative (or something), and I'm not entirely sure what to do with that.

anyway. 'twas immensely good to be at melissa's; but also very painful in that as soon as I had this deeply important emotional revelation (and what was it? of course I can't remember. there was a subsequent revelation about my 'critical voice' being a protective device, though I'm not entirely sure of what it is protecting me from, if successfully at all), I both a) forgot what it was, and b) shifted mood drastically. it's not a surprise or a new thing. in fact it's something that happens quite often-- as soon as I become mentally aware of my emotional status, I break from it. it's not because I want to, not conciously. maybe it was that other people started walking into the room too. because I had been sitting and talking with melissa, she'd asked how things were going and I was telling her, and it probably took about five minutes of my schpeil (and it is a schpeil) to explain it all, but it was good, cleansing schpeil-ing, she was non-judgemental and I could tell it didn't affect her friendship with me, and she didn't feel this immediate urge to 'help' me. it was really deeply comforting in that, and I also realized how concious I was of taking up any of her time with my story.

I can't even remember what i told her. but it felt good; it didn't feel like in that moment that it was a problem to be solved but just something that had happened and that would end.

and then Julie came, and it was really awkward from there out. I felt like a third wheel; not surprising since it's clear that they are incredibly close. and I can't help thinking, melissa and I used to be that close, and what happened? I don't come home in the summer, which is a possible good reason, but we never talk. I mean, we never talk, and I would love to still be in touch with her.

and I couldn't help noticing how much of my vivacity I've lost. and I started thinking about how it could be my relationship with cheryl that's doing it. or that's done it, I should say. I'm currently, afraid to go back there. I mean, cheryl is the one who has black-listed my family, made me feel like I was wrong to need them, or that somehow I should not need them. my grandparents are one thing; but I have not spent time with my mother in over a year. speaking of which, I should call her. perhaps a bit later, though. but to have treated me (cheryl) like I should not see my family, even when I feel like I need to, it has been numbing and incredibly difficult and has totally separated me from my past.

I mean, what do other people do? I don't know. other people who have been abused, what do they do about their families? I don't really know what the answer is, and to be honest, I'm not sure how 'abused' I was. definitely fucked around with, I just think that using the term 'abuse' blanketly isn't maybe good. lost my train of thought but oh well. I mean, since I've been in college, I've lost most of my friends because... because I can't commit to relationships. honestly the more I think about it the more I can't imagine this influence coming from anyone *but* cheryl. which is not to say that she is more imperfect or anything along those lines. she is deeply perceptive, but this does not keep her from being abusive (obviously). I had this dream last night and captain hook was symbollic of .. hard to put it into words-- the protective thing I realized about last night, but it's destructive side. it's deceptive/devious side.

also, a note on tim. I should have known it would not work out based on the shaky feeling I have whenever talking to him, but I'm always pushing issues like that, hoping somehow it will change. but it won't, which is really depressing, in effect. but I'm not honestly that upset about it in the sense that I'm no longer feeling guilty/to blame. I know that I am still upset about it, but in that relieving 'there really was nothing I could do' kind of way. basically on saturday he told me that I am more sensitive than anybody else he knows and that because of this he feels he can't talk to me. well, this is no surprise to me, and partially I would like to get to the heart of the problem, simply because I know it could, hypothetically be done, but I don't honestly think it can-- my gut instinct says no. it's just one of those fights that's not worth fighting. he doesn't like the music I send him, but he can't say it, he doesn't have any strong feelings for me; and I can sense it. or if he does he really just doesn't show them well. I'm honestly not sure which but the former is what it really seems like to me, and it's just not worth the heartache of pushing it to find out. I've pushed it with guys before and it just doesn't work, and frankly I'm just far more happy not thinking about it.

incidentally, when I had the big pivotal-lesbian dream, the girl in it looked like julie pickens. I'm not surprised because when I think about the inner me (which is what I think the girl in the dream signified more than anything else), she has a lot in common with julie, and of course in the dream it wasn't *actually* julie pickens. and at the time it was such a random thing to have a dream about because of course julie is not someone who enters my thought vocabulary that often, which could change b/c I would really liek to become good friends with melissa again. (we'll see.)

but anyway, I guess that's about all I can say for now. something is still burning a hole in my belly but I'll live. it's recognizing my capacity to process things that can combat capt. hook/the cheryl thing (not really interested in combatting cheryl herself if I can help it).

Contributions: add your thoughts.

happening:	excerpt
time:	thu1:39p.

so I'm probably losing my financial aid for the semester, but it's still in the air. we'll see.

anyway, I'm trying to enlist the help of Jeanne to write an appeal. we'll see.. it would be humbling if I felt safer in emailling her. oh well, it is humbling, I don't mind asking her.. and it's worth a lot to forgive people.

I had a weird dream last night about the mormon temple and being in a car with ericka and my mom. what a strange combo of people, sensical though since they were probably the two closest to me while I was growing up (which, in the case of my mother, is relatively laughable). and my mother was going to start driving up the mormon temple as an act of mothering me, and we went inside and this guy started flirting with me and wrote something bout me down on a piece of paper, which ericka stole and said she had good reason and would give it back, but she lost it. now ericka seems to be some kind of protector here, and I didn't resent or care about that, but it was annoying to have lost the slip of paper and the opportunity. the protection itself emotionally didn't affect me, just the reality of it. and maybe this somehow relates to cheryl. don't know.

anyway, the mormon temple has always been a symbol of one thing or another to me, and it could be difficult to understand if you've never seen it. but the point about this entry was going to be an excerpt I took out of my email to jeanne but didn't want to lose entirely:

"None of what I'm about to say has anything to do with your decision. The problem with this is, as you know, I don't really strongly believe in imposing medical terms on
one's emotional health or using them in place of the less euphemistic truth. there have been tons of reasons why I've dropped classes-- once I was coming out of a relationship where I had been molested. once I was having issues with the teacher, and the last semester I was just changing my major and didn't want to dedicate time to something that I didn't care about. I mean, I am not unaware of the possibility of an over-arching problem, and I don't want to make excuses. The reason why I would want to file an appeal though, has nothing to do with those reasons, it's because I don't agree with the system overall, its power dynamic, etc etc, and where it's so impersonal, imposing and judgemental, and still continues to have immense expectations for students in matters which are personal. Again, an option I'm pretty sure wouldn't fly. This of course has nothing to do with your decision. But as I said before, I want to try to give an appeal a shot."

I took it out because it wasn't applicable and I don't want to give her power of my vulnerability, which I would if I relied on her for support. I've tried it and it has been bad.

but I can't judge her, and this has been a good exercise in that (which I've been pondering this week also). ah well.

Contributions: add your thoughts.