msjessica's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- what you had and what you lost; what you are and what you're not just remembered how I used to write out the really good weekends and relive them that way.... but maybe that's what's always got me in to so much trouble.. maybe it's the medication that now, i'm trying to not be so...... so like that. - feel a bit conflicted now because....if there are weekends i want to remember, i guess this last one is one of them.... - but -- thursday: failed meetings; feeling lost in the city; op shopping with fiona apple; polka dot dress; big dog; chai tea - teapot and cup matching my lighter and sunglasses; and then Broadway. And Newtown. They were my Homes. so i felt OK then. on the bus - ok; walking down king st - ok; buying illegally imported Lucky Strikes - ok; sitting down with two of my oldest friends while stone cold sober - not ok; 4 beers later - getting ok. and then him. of course, ok. and then talk bubbles and too much beer and stupid tears and who knows what and then ran into drugs at the townie and that was nice and then talking about sobriety with LLB and then taxi to glebe and then extending the goat family with Koro and then sleep. -- friday: wake up late with Koro; still maybe a bit drunk; some afternoon phonecalls; shit together; urban lamb burger lunch (the BEST); meet him at the warren view... to marrickville; tattooed; back to newtown; old people; ESP; the townie; fastest game of pool we ever played; fighting the tears; calling her a skank (i'm sorry - i know she's not); just one more, just one more; not even late for the gig; front row (like always) Something For Kate. (smile) ManVsDevil. walking to some strange new green car; oh that poor guy on the ground; go on - get up - get up; parking; paying; champagne; bek; all of a sudden 3am - Oxford Street; dance - dance - really? - ask - ask - ask; at last; mayhem.
move on. some pub. best looking guy codes C++. tells me not to worry about not knowing the latest language - there is always a job for an old programmer, the older and more outdated the language, the better. amazing disappearing underwear. hotel? massages? tears? sleep. PHONE RINGING! SO DRUNK (fuck I was meant to do such nice things with him - see his house, ride bikes, eat chocolate everything, talk about our love and our lives, have slow and beautiful sex in our little yet enormous bubble) drinking warm champagne from the bottle; a rushed goodbye; a phone call to home; and then him. what to say. i was a mess. but so is he. but maybe he's not, and maybe, really, neither am I. just love now. that's all. and then all sorts of stuff, just for us. my memory doesn't fail me at all. and then sleep, sweats, the morning. a kiss goodbye and i cried when he left. sleep, then the long road home. --------------------------- and then yesterday was hard in the morning, then friends, and then work. then i cried into my dinner. but today was easier. and that kind of upsetness is to be expected, from all of the chemicals. and now I'm left here. drunk on a tuesday night - just drinking the beer i brought back in my suitcase so it's not left in the house tomorrow. and i don't really know where I'm going, but I know it's not where I've been. not exactly, anyway. 9:25 p.m. - 2012-10-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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