Light and Darkness

No Rest for the Wicked

I can't say that I'm truly wicked but I'm no angel.

Insomnia. Been a hard and fast rule for me lately. I'm exhausted beyond repair. Tired. Can quickly fall asleep at any moment but still suffering insomnia.

I woke from sleep this past weekend crying hysterically. From my dreams, I recall a dreadful fire. Two dogs injured, specifically remember the front paws of one of them were completely gone. I remember waking from it thinking of my dad also thinking of my grandparents. Sense of loss. Also have dreamed of Angus. Was a very nice dream. We reconciled. Nice, right? Again, active dreamscapes. Sleep has not been refreshing. Eh, no change.

The Glass Eye was on Friday. As usual, loved it. I have lost some poems I had written over the last month so I had to write three pieces that night while I was waiting to read. I reread a bit of my erotica too. God, I love going to Glass Eye. Do you know I have fans? What a freaking great feeling that is to have fans! It encourages me to write more. May post the pieces in an entry. I get a lit fearful about putting my work online though. I am an amateur but I still worry that someone will steal my work.

I really want a digital SLR. I am going to try and save up for a very nice one. A portion of next year's income tax check will go to the purchase of one if I haven't bought one by then. Perhaps I can persuade Santa Claus to bring one for Christmas or a nice birthday elf in November....are there any birthday elves out there any more?

Tomorrow (today, rather) is a day off. May head to the theater and watch a couple of films. Most recent films I've seen: 28 Weeks Later and Spider-Man 3. Out of the two, I recommend 28 Weeks Later more. Spidey was sappy. CGI was excellent but the story line was gooshy. As Disco, one of my favorites, has said, "I just wanted to let you all know. I grew a vagina after I saw that piece of shit." Ok, it wasn't that bad but for loyal comic book fans, you will have some issues with what they've done with the genesis of Spider-Man. Seriously though, most comic book films muck up the stories. Creative license, what can you do.

Moving on....I am getting rid of two cats this week. Tried adopting them out but that failed. Just need to find them homes before I seriously consider the moving thing. Do it now before it becomes more difficult.

And lastly, I seriously need a sexual partner. Sigh.....I am still mournfully celibate. This is the first time I've admitted this aloud but Angus and I had a long-distance relationship, if it wasn't painfully obvious to you. So, I have not had sexual intercourse with a man in nearly eleven years. I think my body, namely my vagina thinks sex is only comprised of the buzz of a vibrator and nothing else. Such a sorry state to be in for a crazed loon like me. Eh!

Hot Monkey Sex with Kevin Smith and Cinnamon Rolls

Some day last week, I woke up from a strange dream of an erotic nature. It was vivid and nasty and with Kevin Smith. At one point in the dream, Kevin was pushing forward in that missionary position and he deposited a beef flavored dog pill in my throat. At that point, I choked in my dream as well as in real time. I woke up and could have sworn I could feel that damn pill still lodged in my esophagus. And it was all so erotic.

The rest of the day, I craved cinnamon rolls. I wanted a hot, gooey cinnamon roll. Hot from an oven with sticky sweet icing dripping down its sides. ALL FREAKING DAY LONG! And I was stuck at work without a way out into the real world to find it. I had a caramel roll from Wal-Mart a day or so later. Yeah, not the same thing. It turned me off for a few days. Today? I sure do want that cinnamon roll.

Here's my question: If I eat that cinnamon roll, will I get the Big O face too? Because now, hot cinnamon rolls are strictly tied to crazy, monkey sex with Kevin Smith.

POST NOTE: I just re-read that title and boy, that's just weird. It probably should have read, "Cinnamon Rolls and Hot Monkey Sex With Kevin Smith." Now it just implies "Rutting with Pastries."

Pregnant

I woke crying from a dream this morning.

I was impregnated by him and he was absolutely pissed with me for getting knocked up. It was obvious that he wasn't wanting responsibility for me or the child; and he was trying to convince me in a mean and menacing tone that I should abort the baby.

At the same time, my mother was criticizing me for allowing myself to get pregnant stating that I couldn't even take care of one kid so how was I going to be fit to raise another. I was told that I was irresponsible as a mother.

I was at work and trying to make a good decision for the child and even had myself convinced an abortion would be the right thing to do since I SUCK under no uncertain terms as every one was telling me. My belly was slightly swollen with child and I was cradling it in my hands trying to protect it from everyone including myself.

Then the worries that I would be out of work with noone to care for me if I had the baby so I would be without money and eventually out of a job; but the few people at work were ecstatic for me.

I was almost convinced that an abortion would be the best thing for the baby since she would have me for a mother. I was already ruining one child's life. But the entire time, I was trying to convince everyone that it was a good decision to let the baby live. I was trying to sway the man who supposedly loved me and I loved so much. Trying to convince my mother...and even Emma, who was on the fray of the dream but who I could tell was unhappy with my state.

I was the only one in the dream who felt the baby was important and beautiful and made with love but I felt selfish for wanting her to live because it would inconvenience every one else.

An Offering

Nightmare last night that was absolutely dreadful. I was riding a rollercoaster at an amusement park with my pop and having a gay ol' time. I remember the sensations of the loopty loops. I recall the fear from the climb before the first drop. The rush of air against my face felt as real as imagined could be. I was enjoying the time with my father.

But when I had gotten off the rollercoaster, I realized that I had had that time because of an offering. I had lost little Emma in the park. She vanished during the time I spent on the coaster. I had been careless and had disregarded her needs. I searched the park which had hundreds of little booths and side attractions. I think other people were helping me look, but I woke up because I couldn't stand that feeling that she was lost forever.

Eh. Horrible, horrible dream.

I know what I'm trying to tell myself. "Stop being so goddamned selfish with my life and fears and boo-hoos from the past. GET THE FUCK OVER ALL THAT because I'm going to lose Em with all my bloody shit."

Yeah. Succint.

...

You know. Eh, forget it. Almost let loose the thoughts in my head again. Not an easy river to tread.

Question: How does one actually get the name out there in the publishing world? I can only think of the obvious things like doing a byline piece for a rag or such, but I'm thinking that I may not be so hot at that....not really sure.

But the poet scenes? What about those? Any suggestions?

Am going to post another poem in a moment. Can I just say that I think that my muse is suicidal? I mean she's just a wailing away in the emo poetry with me. I really need to write some happy crap. Believe it or not, I'm really not always sad and blah. Can't tell with the trite shit I put here, can we?

AGGGHHHHH!

I want to draw or paint or throw some clay. Friend Angela said I could use her wheel but since the school year just started, I don't want to bother her whilst she and the family are adjusting to the schedule. One of the reasons, I didn't tell her about Glass Eye this weekend (other was just wanting to be alone).

...

changing subjects

...

I read my child's journal again. I think I've admitted that I will do this periodically while she is in my home....ESPECIALLY since she went through that bout of depression before the school year. In reading her journal, I discovered that she had been reading mine. I'm not entirely upset about it. I did sneak about my parents' room when I was a teen and did read the letters my pop wrote my mom when he was overseas. So, I can't be mad. I should lock them away if I don't want her snooping.

I am more embarrassed than angry. She mentioned a couple of bits she had read about me that I am now too shy to admit. But that again....nothing really upsetting. What does leave a heaviness on my heart is her mention of my moping about and 'whining' on about The One. She was downright mean about me. That and almost calling me a whore.

I am my mother. Every day I see the Mrs. Devine things that upset and formed me as a child....in me. Now, Mom and I get along so much better now. I swear, my father's death instantly changed her approach with Em and me. And the need to make things different between her and me over has done wonders with my personality over the last couple of years. But, is Em going to despise me that much? And do I deserve it? Did my mother deserve it?

Geez.

...

changing subjects again

...

It's time to be done with The One. I've tried to contact him. I've tried pleading my case. I've tried making amends. He will not respond. I want to be vengeful but won't. I want to say horrible things to him to make him feel guilty but won't. They are momentary fits of disappointment, anger, and sadness and only show how immature, emotional and catty I can be. And he's not deserving of that. I will not reference him aloud again. It's obvious it does no good and the primary players in this little drama have grown tired of me.

If by chance, Angus....you are reading this. I loved you with every bit that was me. In earnest, I pray to whatever God is that you find your happiness. That you live a life of beauty and wonderment. Despite what you may think or anyone else, you are the most wonderful man I've known in my life. You inspired me to be a better human, friend, mother, lover....Naomi. I can only hope that you don't look with dread at what we were and that I don't simply become a regrettable anecdote in your life. I love you.

...and that's that.

Sleep. My Enemy, My Friend

I don't sleep well at all. And all I want to do is sleep, all the time. I can fall to sleep within minutes if given a chance. I can probably sleep forever. But when I do sleep, I dream. I sleep with my ears awake, my mind playing sentinel, and my conscious aware of all. It's not restful sleep.

I am so tired....always so tired. My depression wants me to sleep more, and sometimes I give in to the demands.

Maybe when we are dead, it's just a sleep. We sleep ages upon ages not knowing we are decaying but it's the best sleep. God, wouldn't that be a nice reward? To be able to sleep, and sleep well.

I dreamed of him nearly the whole night. What a fucked up sleep! My unconscious is crying out to me wanting to do something for this lack of him. Bloody freaking hell! What am I suppose to do?!

I'm going to bed for a couple more hours. I have so much to do today but I just don't care. I want to sleep.

I've Gone Blind

Dreams last night were EXTREMELY erotic but at the same time very disturbing. Eh! Don't know whether to scour my brain with an S.O.S. pad or write it down for Literotica.com.

February can kiss my ass!

I am so fucking glad this month is over. I've had to deal with the death of my father...the day before that horrible VD. And my relationship with the love of my life isn't like it was months ago. One important man in my life gone forever. And having to make a decision to step back from the one man I want to spend the rest of my life with...I feel like I'm dying.

I hate February. I HATE FEBRUARY!!!! It's my fucking kryptonite. It's my Friday the 13th.

I have been avoiding friends. I admit. I'm not any fun. I just get tired of me so I can only imagine every one getting fucking sick of me.

I've been death-obsessed lately. I have this fear that Em will die when she's not in sight of me. I've been having mini-panic attacks because of the thoughts. I think about Pop opening his eyes suddenly buried feet under the ground because he's not truely dead; and I start weeping and pacing.

The nightmares have been unusual. I'm use to nightmare and night terrors. These are more like people in my life not wanting me involved in their lives. Outright declarations that I'm an emotional black hole and cause too many disturbances in their lives. I'm unwanted and unloved.

I haven't been able to concentrate as well as of late, either. Simple mistakes made in every aspect of my life including counting money, driving, speaking. I either eat too much or nothing at all in a day.

So much going on in my head in a self-destructive way but then there is this vacant automatic response to living that suggests I'm void of any thought.

Just feeling.....????.....sigh....yeah.

huh?!

Strange dreams. What's new, Nae? Right?

Nights ago, I dreamt I was shaving my head with a pair of hair clippers. The following night Em had alopecia in my dream. And then last night Antonio Banderas was the star of my nocturnal murmurings. And he wasn't covering my body with his naked one either.

I don't know if was because of the recent Antonio conversation at PT or the constant previews playing at the theater of his recent movie, but this dream was not pleasant. There was a flood on a plantation that he and I owned. The people living on it were Latino and very, very poor. The flood also brought locust-type insects that ate people. We had our children that we were trying to protect as well as all these cats and animals. And he was trying to get the people on our land into our house, away from the flood waters and locusts. There was much more to the dream but so much chaos that I can't pull it together into anything coherent.

Disturbing.

What the hell am I still doing up?!

A quarter to four. I should be asleep. I am actually tired too, but things are sitting on my mind. Little bit of loneliness and sadness mixed with impatience and guilt. Have been dreaming the last couple of nights...very strange dreams which is not unusual for me. But they have been populated with hundreds of people in them. People chasing. Blocking my way. Unhappy with me. Keeping me from my goal. Eh!

Too tired. Am going to sleep. Hoping for calmer dreams tonight.

Friday Burped

I woke up this morning at 2:30 and watched the funeral mass with my friend Carrie in Memphis (hon, I'm just going to start calling you Carrie or Memphis Carrie. If people don't know who you are by now, that's not our problem!) We watched together over a long distance phone call.

I was supposed to have an interview today but I cancelled it. I realized that I'm wasting time scheduling interviews with places that I don't want to work at. Why do I do that?! I go in absolutely dreading the interview. I already hate the place from the get go. I'm already depressed and pissed off and yet, I'm there. Stupid, huh? How many of us do that? Work places we don't want to? I know. I know. I'm not really in a position to turn down anything. Well, let's look at it this way. For the last year, other than the times those that love me have helped (which can be counted on my hands) I've been taking care of things. Strained that I've been, I'm doing it. Sooooo, I think I'll just go along at my pace. I'm just changing attitudes about the whole situation. My life. No more putting myself at the bottom of the dumpster. And I'm not going to feel guilty about not wanting to work at some place that puts me into an anxious, manic depressed state of being.

whew.....that was something....getting a bit of something out towards someone. I'm done.

Took a nap since I had been awake since early morning. NOT THE GREATEST IDEA! I had horrible dreams about some group of gunmen killing all these people that I was surrounded by. Emma was included. She was shot several times. I was standing next to children that were being shot in the temple several times. I woke up crying out and tears streaming down my face. I'm not feeling well now. I'm just absolutely terrified of that dream. I don't recall everything. A restaurant. And some scattered details. I just don't feel well.

Jolie Dog is having issues herself. We've noticed that she's always had food issues. She wouldn't eat if we were standing near her bowl. She would growl if we touched her. She would attack another animal if they went near her food. She would take her food and run off and eat it. She ate constantly, which meant I was always buying dog food. I tried to change her eating habits only feeding her twice a day. I soothed her and stroked her back when I stood beside her when she first approached her bowl trying to show her that I wasn't trying to take her food. Then we noticed Jolie was rooting through the cats' litter box and eating their feces.

Ok....ECK! NASTY! You can't see me but I'm making little vomiting gestures because that just disgusts me. I know it happens. It still isn't a pleasant thing to fathom. I thought perhaps it was because I was depriving her of food so I gave her back the constant food. I kept her self-feeder full. Perhaps, I thought she was rooting because she felt deprived. Remember, Jolie is a rescue. She may have been abused. I felt like an irresponsible pet owner so I gave her back what she wanted.

Well, this morning....I caught her carrying poop back to her doggie bed to eat. Say it ain't so, Jo. Say it ain't so. She had food in her bowl. Seriously, I'm at a loss for words. I need to call the vet and find out what the hell to do. Our last dog was a hyper little girl. Jo, sweet thing is a poop eating dog afraid of storms (she has been squeezing herself into any place she can hide because of the thunder and hard pounding rain).

sigh

No plans for the weekend as of yet. I had wanted to go to the library's huge book sale but no funds. That's ok. Need to discipline my financial self. Just planning on reading more. Maybe head back here to post and return books and movies. That's about all.

Hope everyone has a Smurfy Weekend!

Moods & Dreams

Moods have been quick.Dreams bothersome.No,disturbing.Hearing voices last few days.Manic.Taking my meds.

Misplaced Anger and Other Such Oddities

The last couple days have been rough for me. I've been...angry. Other emotions whirling about in Hurricane Naomi but let's just address anger right now.

I don't know why I allow myself to get suckered into things that aren't good for me.

I am sick of people who are stupid. Idiots. I am especially sickened by women who play the Nell to men's Dudley Do-Right. You know what?! STOP IT! You are giving all us women bad names. And you Dudley Do-Rights....STOP IT TOO!! Bloody hell. Do you really see all of us like that? Unconsciously you must. And when the atypical woman falls somewhere in your peripheral vision, you get crazy on us. What the hell?! You don't give any of us a fighting chance. I just get tired of it. A woman with a healthy dose of independence is seen as some loud mouth opinionated bitch. AND when she has a faltering moment, you run like a coward. FUCK YOU! And these women with the batting eyelashes, shy responses, and apologetic teasing flits about them are the winners?! Have them. Honestly. But please don't breed.

I am tired of drivers that really want me to get the fuck out of my car and beat them senseless with a state driver's licence manual. Please! Just stay home because I'm losing my patience. You nearly ran over the pedestrians in the Big Lot parking lot because you couldn't stand sitting behind me who was waiting for them to cross. You cut me off at school while I was waiting for the van in front of me picking up their children to move and in the process held up the rest of us and could have taken a few kids out. Didn't that nut in the SUV teach you anything, you fucking morons?!

I swear. I'm sick of imbeciles. Today I have no patience for anyone whose IQ falls at the national norm.

I am so angry at my brain. In the same organ that calculates mathematical computations, records a personal history, memorizes and uses facts in a superb manner...in this same organ that uses chemical reactions to do all this...chemical reactions are fucking up the doors to my emotional life. The same synapses that spark imagination and logic are firing emotional bullets into daily life.

I'm mean and really...I'm enjoying it. I'm laughing at the thought of making people cry. What vein am I going to nick? Who has pissed me off lately? The Piper, perhaps.

I've been home for the most part for the last two days. I went to hell today...Wal-Mart. I liked it at one time. Remember that period in history when NO ONE but the insomniacs went to Wal-Mart in the middle of the night? That was a glorious time. One could take their time in the store. Had a craving for a massive dose of chocolate with the nagging need to buy superglue and car freshners at three a.m.? Wal-Mart was the place.

Then the busy people of the world caught wind of late hours and took over the store.

I fixed that by going when the blue haireds went. I loved it. First thing in the morning when only the senior citizens were out and about. Everyone else was in school or at work.

NOT ANYMORE. Nope. The "others" took over that time period too.

Now I just hate Wal-Mart. The drivers. The family outings. BLOODY FUCKING HELL! If you haven't learned by now, people: the aisles are for everyone's use. I don't need a fucking Wizard of Oz moment right there in the canned goods section. Don't bogart the lanes, folks. You know what I mean. Linking arms, singing about some magical place over the rainbow, and looking for the wizard. Noone has painted a yellow brick road on the floor. And the wizard is dead...his name is on everything including the dog food but that doesn't mean he's around greeting you at the door and putting a yellow smiley face on your kid's shirt....he micromanaged that job before he kicked the bucket and gave it to other people.

...

ok. ok. ok.

Calming down.

For the safety of the world, I'm getting back on the psychotropic drugs. I have yet another visit to the wonderful world of insane people tomorrow. Hopefully I will be leaving the hospital with a couple of beautiful prescriptions in my hand for some heavy drugs. If I don't get my favorite one back, they may try me on an anti-psychotic. OH YEAH!!!

I need something....bad. I sat in the turning lane beating on my steering wheel and horn and screaming and cursing after a second person in less than five minutes cut me off. I'm about to punch walls. For the sake of your health and our friendship, don't try checking on me. I'm mean and my little tricks to curb my behavior are at the breaking point. I'm not nice.

The dreams have been violent and frightening. Rapists, murderers, and child molesters. Memories haven't been too good either. I've been sitting in traffic with the most monstrous memories that I can't place. They have been leaving me with tears. Horrible memories of sexual violence and shit and I don't know where they are coming from.

I am not doing well today and honestly I just want to be violent to my body.

Mood (or also known as Perhaps a Little White Pill Wouldn't Be So Bad)

I woke up depressed on Monday. Wanted to cry all day long. And did at times also. I found out that the job I really was looking forward to interviewing for had been filled and I wasn't even going to get an interview.

Woke up Tuesday saying capricious and capriciousness. Leftover from my lucid dreaming from the night. Still in a blue mood. Cry, cry, cry. Went to Em's Family Reading Night at school last night. Wanted to punch principal in face. Didn't even look at her because of such hateful thoughts. Thought it best to just stay very close to Em and FAKE THE HAPPINESS. Did have a nice brief sunny moment when the school librarian remembered me from last year.

Woke up this morning at 2:30 with horrible nightmare taste in my mouth. Train cars were smashing and crushing people and not from the front. They were falling on top of people from rotting tracks above. I was one of the people on a track below. We were all dressed in clothes from the late 1800s. My dog got smashed. I almost called (or text messaged) two people in a panic and realized that I'd probably get no response. FUCKERS!!!

Still sad today. And also hateful. Realize that there are people in my life that I just need to forget about and I NEED TO STOP TRYING TO GET ANYTHING OUT OF THE RELATIONSHIPS!!! (fuckers!) Mean. Mad. And that whole jolly rot.

Waiting for tomorrow. Don't like what may come out of it. I volunteered last week to be a chaperone on Em's field trip. Perhaps I should cancel. Don't want to disappoint Em BUT I am not in the mood to deal with any other child other than my own. Good God, please help us all.

I really just want to ball up in a corner and cry. I want to also make the people in my life that hurt me, hurt. Would love to trade the emotional shit with them....just once.

Anyway....

Juicy details of my life

Should be a title for a blog, don't you think?

Ok...so the news of the life of me.

I have been in lines out the wazoo for help as a result of Ivan. Seen emergency food stamp people, Red Cross and FEMA.

Haven't received our food stamps as of yet so I haven't been able to throw away the food from the fridge. Have been eating MRE's which I must say are much better than they were when I was child of a military man but still eating them regularly is not a pleasant experience for those who have to breathe in the same air that you are voicing your just recently devoured pre-packaged culinary delights. High in protein but not so great on the digestive tract. Red Cross has been kind and gave us some money for gas and storage for our belongings. Thank you, oh gods of the Red Cross. AND I just received money from FEMA. Woo Hoo! The US Department of Treasury will be in my thanks and praises to the Lord Almighty tonight.

Let me say that, I have been worried about a few things since discovering that my little house that could is more injured than first believed. Worried about what will become of belongings when we have to move our for the repairs. Still no word about whether or not everything has to be moved out or if corners of our house will suffice for storage. The expense of storage sucks! SUCKS, I tell you. Blah! But the generosity of others have been kind. Sooooo, just now waiting on what the insurance adjuster says tomorrow and the estimates and time frame of the contractor. I recommend that none of you voluntarily go through a storm (like you would have a choice). But tempting the Fates, I don't think you should try it....I know. I was a fool so many weeks ago. Oh well.

Going through the motions of finding a job. Everyone seems to be hiring now. I know it's time for temporary help due to the oncoming holidays but I really do believe that the storm has something to do with the amount of jobs out there now. I'm excited at the possibilities.

My brother is now in Tennessee to help out with my dad. Still an upsetting thing to talk about. Mom has gotten more details about his physical state, and I am not at all pleased. If there were someone to kick in the ass for this, I surely would have done so by now. Hell, I'd have that person on my daily schedule for a Naomi asskicking.

On a strange note and completely off of any subject, I have been having regular periods for a couple of months now. They're not the same length of time or the same flow (yes, I know men...you don't freaking care....so what. My blog. Ha!); but they are coming on their own with no need of assistance of extra hormones. YEAH FOR THE FLOW!!! WOO HOO!!!

Let's see....what else?! Hmmmmmmm.....

Even more sexually frustrated as usual. Weird sexual dreams of cheetahs mating and such. Not that I'm into bestiality...because I'm not....but these dreams (which I'm sure are metaphors of my own sexual nature) have been fucking hot! A pair of cheetahs excape from a zoo or preserve and find their home in my backyard. They are wild yet very docile with me. The male cat which is HUGE regularly comes up to me and rubs against me like a domestic cat would wanting to be scratched on its back. I can sense its fertility and raw animal lust. It does well living in my backyard which is on a large hill with an expanse of grass. He and its mate copulate several times. It's not until it tries to eat my cats that I call animal control to come and remove them. Strange.

Much more to say but my time on the computer is done for the day. Shit!!! I miss home internet.

Hope all of you get a good shag in today!

Illegal to Love Me

I've been having dreams about certain men in my life. One my friend, B. I was excited to see him. Have been in love with the guy since adolescence. I remember embracing him. He, however wasn't too glad to see me. Evidently there was some ordinance making it illegal to love me. I could feel his anger towards me for interrupting his life. And he was actually repulsed to see me and have him near his family.