9:55 a.m. - 03/03/03
nobody can make me do another bit.!.
I really can't explain to you how much I love that date. Three threes. Mmm. For a non-palindrome, it really has me woozy. I guess it turns out that when they aren't attempting to limit or define my experience, numbers are still very wonderful. Dates, for example, when they don't remind me of terrible things. 03/03/03. It's simply beautiful. Admit it.
So I did some mommy-like* research into the pig, and it turns out the wisdom of the pig includes rooting out the truth, association with the crone goddess, deep earth magic, past life knowledge, intelligence, cunning, and the ability to (believe this?) become invisible during times of danger. Sweet. Bet you didn't know that about old Wilbur, now didja?
I tried to become invisible during times of danger. Now I'm trying to become so powerfully safe that times of danger affect me solely in manageable ways. But do you want to know why I'm really here right now, when it's only 10:00, and my f*cking meds make me want to sleep the entire day away? Why, to avoid working on my physics paper, of course. If I avoid working on my physics paper, I can avoid studying for my physics test, and then my entire life can fall apart a little more distantly, instead of on top of me.
Ok, bad plan. How about I use the physics paper to avoid the physics studying and use the physics studying to avoid failing the test, and consider the day over at 4:00? I don't have to quit breathing simply because school starts up again today. I didn't take a vacation to overcome my illness, and she knows that. No one has expectations of me higher than those I have of myself. At least no one outside the [Neverland] zip code.
(It's not working. I'm nearly finished with the next paragraph of this paper, but all I can think about is the test...I just need a steady IV of alprazolam, really...I feel like such a dweeb.)
Or how about this, I take this random gov't test I have to take to graduate and save Physics for Wednesday, meaning I don't have to try and study energy exchange at the same time that all my energy is depleted by a raised dose of meds? I could do that, maybe.
In the meantime, I'm setting up an army. An army of (more than) one. And everyone in it comes into my imagination with whatever weaponry suits you best, and we all march off to Neverland (which of course means skipping and galloping and running around however we please) and destroy the place entirely. And like in the fairy tales, as soon as the source is destroyed, all the curses carried by innocent people dismantle readily. I'll say again what a raw deal it is that those who are wounded carry the wound. In a fairer world, those who did the wounding would be required to hang onto the injury.
That is, unless we're going to support the theory, that injury brings wisdom, and the deo/universe doesn't see it as fit to bestow such brilliance upon people who would wound. I could see it that way, if I weren't too busy being wounded.
Wounded, and entirely freaked out by the amount of people reading this page thanks to iwillsurvive and bettyalready. Completely grateful for it, of course, but I just don't think I'm cut out to make my journal into worthy literature. I still need a place for rambling, and fame, somehow, inhibits it...
Though there is the encouragement factor of attention. There is the added energy of being loved.
chord
*in my case, mommy-like could be described as having to do with any spirituality that has nothing to do with patriarchy
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