If I should stay, I would only be in your way.So I'll go, but I know I'll think of you... every step of the way.
eowynuluithiad
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Name: Kat
Birthday: 10/22/1984
Gender: Female


Interests: Living to the best of my ability, perfecting love for my fellow man through Christ, and someday being able to keep my room clean. Starry nights by quiet waters. Windswept hilltops. Greek mythology. Car-dancing. Roses. Being drenched in the summer rain. Gilmore Girls. Playing soccer with the boys. Cheesecake. Having all the good times I can. etc...
Expertise: Procrastination. Creating awkward moments. Fooling people into thinking I am unpredictable. Sarcasm. Holding on long after there is no hope. Attracting guys I am not attracted to. Shedding hair.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Medical


Message: message me
Website: visit my website
AIM: eowynuluithiad


Member Since: 10/25/2003

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Monday, August 24, 2009

Woman and the Lonely Heart

Loneliness and broken hearts are bad for you.  And not just because they suck.  Not just because there are times you can't even breathe, it hurts so bad inside.  Not only do they drive people to extremes of alcoholism, drug addictions, depression (hurts, Cymbalta can help... maybe), insomnia, eating disorders, emotional/sexual frigidity, etc., but they are actually shown to be a cause of heart damage in women.

Check it out:  http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32493498/ns/health-heart_health/

 

Es muy sucko.  *thumbs down* 

 

On the bright side, at least I know what I'm going to die of.  (Speaking of dying, I've had strange dreams lately where I was dying of some disease like cancer-- but not heart disease, yeay!!-- something which has never occurred in my life before.  Weird.)  Besides, the way I see it, statistically there are 3 females to every 1 male in the world... and a growing number of them are gay.  If somebody has to be single, it might as well be me.  (Getting more and more resigned to my lot as the days go by... what's that called again?  Throwing in the towel?  Maybe.  At least in my apartment I get to be as naked as I please, so really, who needs a towel?  Obviously not me.)


Monday, May 25, 2009

Silence is Golden. Sometimes.

"The loudest sound in the world is love unspoken."  I hope that's not true, because it would sound the death-knell to my remaining shreds of dignity.  If nobody knows it but me, it would be all I could ask.  The beautiful disasters of this world wreaked their havoc in my life.  They shattered me in a thousand pieces, a thousand different ways, a thousand different times.  And they don't get the privilege of knowing the extent of their damage.  They wouldn't care, and even if they did, they wouldn't bother to make it better.

 

In the meantime, until I figure out a way to put the pieces back together, I will keep my actual state of condition in perfect silence.  I think the heart grows in proportion to the amount of truth it is required to hold.  (I hope it does.  Otherwise, I will die from heart failure.)

Until next time, my nonexistent public. 


Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Proactive (Wo)Man

I'd love to use "Woman" as the second word but it just doesn't flow as well as "Man" especially when referring to a superhero.  Either way, that title is me, particularly these days when I have finally realized/accepted the fact that what I want is never going to happen.  So, I'm finding stuff I like to do that makes me happy and widening my pool of potentials (aka getting in ridiculously fantastic shape) in the meantime. 

This will be an interesting summer.  I can't wait to see how it pans out.


Thursday, March 12, 2009

Closets

Countless closets in my mind
Cluttered with oceans of words
Many doors threaten to overflow
One in particular that previews
Your name in platinum letters
Bright, sparkling, undeniable
I look into your face
Brilliant, flawless, beautiful, broken...
Uncompromising
Ungentle
Unbelievably closed to anything I would say
Silently the handle turns
A stream of words makes its way
Like the tears running down my cheek
They fill the space between us
All that is left unsaid
Spills out to the cleft in my lip
I am so close to letting go
In hopes that you will somehow understand
The fear that paralyzes
Like ice in the middle of May
Embalming the cherry blossoms
That wave upon the branch
Your stubborn pride precludes it all
Freezing these words in place
I order them back to their prison
Once again the distance intrudes
Maybe the next time I see you
I will scrape up the courage
Scrape off the fear that owns me
In the meantime
I scrape my dignity together
Hold my head high
Keep you at arms' length
Maybe you won't see
The yearning beneath the mask
The wistful hopes masquerading as
Scornful contemptuous pride
It was you who taught me
How to play this game
Forced to don the disguise
I speak the only language you know
Can you hear me now?
Do you understand?
Will you finally open the door
To the closet that bears your name?

...



(I need to not drink alcohol.  Ever.)


Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Wistful Panda

Last night was a stark reminder of exactly why I'm keeping myself to myself, aka shutting off emotions at certain times.  Beautiful disasters, no matter how beautiful and charming and broken and dangerous and intoxicating and addictive and endearing and appealing to every part of me, in the end, are still just that:  disasters.  And they will still hurt just as much in the end, no matter how amazing the journey.  *sigh* 

If only...



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