December 5th, 2002

I can fly!

Stuff, doing its best to throw me by Happening, as it's wont to do.

Last couple of days were full of ups and downs. There was good music and bad and good moments and bad and hugs and cold silences and all that sort of thing. Life, really. ~s~
I get back and LJ is the same, so is e-mail. It's not my fault, damn it; I reserve the right to catch hold of a chance when it passes. Don't like it, get moving. ~shrug~

Unexpected things happening? Oh, yes. Got lots of those, governor. I present, for your inspection...
Exhibit A - Someone I thought was having a fairly good night and who I thought I was getting along with in a worthwhile fashion stopped me the next day to apologise for the entire previous night. Which makes absolutely no sense to me, but hey. I'm sorry they weren't having as good a night as I thought. ~shrug~

Exhibit B - I got to know, again, for a while, what it's like to hold someone. I've been held a lot recently but haven't held anyone since the October Night Of Doom, and then I was only holding a memory. But this was real. And I got to know, again, for a while, what it's like to feel wanted. Not a bad thing. ~smile~ Words stay with me.
And I looked in the mirror and I thought, "you look like you've been fucked through a hedge backwards". And I did. But I hadn't been. ~s~

Exhibit C - by far the strangest, really. I got home to London, turned on my computer, and heard a strange noise from the street. I shrugged, until I heard it again and realised it was inside my house, and it sounded like Gir from Invader Zim. And then it sounded like a very lost kitten. Baffled, without moving from my desk, I called a questioning "miaow?" through the door, and got a "miew" back. So I got up and went out of the room, and there, on the stairs, was a large grey cat.
She must have been here a while but she'd done no damage; I had to put her out, unfortunately. Nobody knows whose she is - probably a stray from the empty houses across the road. When I picked her up to take her outside she was very frightened, but she didn't scratch or anything, just looked at me with nervous eyes, like [see Exhibit A] can do.
Very, very strange.

And now I'm home. And very alone. But not for long...asrana arrives tomorrow...~hugs~

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  • Current Music
    Lots of things.
(I've tried patience)


I'm not actually very well right now. But my dad, who's just turned up, doesn't believe me. So he's being a complete bastard at me in the hope that, I don't know, I break down and apologise for having the temerity to be a bit ill on a day I have to work, even though I'm planning on working anyway.

'Danger (High Voltage)' by Electric 6 is now on my MP3 playlist. There are those among you who may find this amusing.

Oh, and.

It's somewhere around one in the morning, nobody else in the room (or the world, when I'm around you, but you're not to know that) and you say, choked and harsh, "I'm fucked." I look at you. You look at me. "It's my own fault," you state, still looking at me but not seeing me.
I slide towards you and put a hand on your shoulder, warily, then edge back; but the look in your eyes is fear and some kind of lost incomprehension and under the circumstances all I can do is put an arm around you and try to hold you for a moment.
And I think that it's odd that the first time I touch you should be now, like this. And then I think no, it isn't, it's typical. Since my eyes met yours for the first time I've been trapped in wishes of you and beautiful cruelty, of you hurting me until I cry and then holding me with sudden tenderness, and yet the first time that I touch you I am in my place as comforter, as listener. Reminders and reminders that it is all I will ever be.

And it is often said that when one sees the weaknesses of a person one fears, they become simply another person, "just like you and me". Not true; you are just as magnificent and frightening, only hurt; like a bird of prey with a broken wing. If an eagle fell through my window I would do what I could to heal it, and it would know I was not hostile, but I would be wary of its beak and claws nonetheless.
But for a moment it is given to me to be the one to touch you.

And then the door creaks open and I hurriedly give you up.

  • Current Music
    "Fire in the in the Taco Bell..." ~s~
(I've tried patience)

(no subject)

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I have to go to work this evening; I'm tired and I feel ill and I don't want to, but never mind.
~sigh~ I want things resolved. I want to understand things. I want to know how one word is cause enough to rip someone's life into so many pieces that they'll never be able to be complete again. I want to know why the only time I get to touch the people I want so much to touch is when they're falling apart.
And most of all I want to fall asleep next to a man I love.
Don't really mind which one. ~s~

  • Current Music
    'Head Over Heels', Tears For Fears.
I can fly!

Conversations from the Concert Hall...

We're closing the doors as the first half's about to begin. A man's waiting in one of the doorways.
Me : Excuse me sir, if you could take your seat please, we need to close the doors.
Mr. Tweed McTweed : But I'm waiting for Jane!
Me : If you want to leave her ticket with the box office, she can -
Mr. Tweed McTweed : But it's Jane! You know what she's like! You know, Jane!
At this point the front of house man comes across and tells Mr. McTweed where to go. Thankfully.


Half way through the first half, three people walk through the main doors. The other four ushers, more sure of their jobs, stay where they are; I stand up to greet them, as you're supposed to.
Me : Can I help you?
Bill Lyne : It's all right, dear, I'm the Manager.

Nobody tells me anything.


The interval starts. A woman standing near me is saying in a raucous voice, "But I can't tell if she's staff! She doesn't look like staff. Is she staff, George? She doesn't look like staff..." Suddenly she rounds on me. "Well, are you staff?"
I blink, and reply in the affirmative.
"You don't look like staff," she says. "Where are the ice creams?"


I stand at the doors during the interval to make sure nobody goes in with ice creams or drinks or anything. A man barges past me carrying three ice creams; I go to him.
Me : Excuse me, sir?
He ignores me.
Me : Excuse me, sir? [I give up and touch him on the shoulder] I'm sorry, but you're not allowed refreshments in the auditorium.
He looks at me as if I've just called his mother something unpleasant to do with rodents, and says in a voice loud enough to summon demons, "My wife is handicapped! Her friend is...pretty handicapped! Do you expect them to move??"
I apologise and back off, but wonder at what point it was in an usher's job description to be telepathic.


As everyone's going in for the second half, a young, very pretty lady comes up to me with a tub of ice cream. She says "I know we're not allowed to take these in, so I wonder if you could hang onto it for me until the performance ends. Thanks!" And she throws it at me and sails into the auditorium.

As you can tell, it was an odd evening, full of many strange people. I'm now very *very* tired. So sleep soon, I think.

  • Current Music
    "Well, don't you wanna know how we keep starting fires...?"