Pouring out frustrations [journal]
Jul. 12th, 2004 11:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kyrasantae
Eeew, my finger is bleeding.
It really sucks having to try to just ignore grandma's made up stories. Not that she's telling them to the kids or anything, but when it's lunch and she's babbling to my parents/relatives, while we're all at the same table, it's an exercise in tuning out. Fortunately the restaurant was pretty noisy and I couldn't hear them very well from the other side of the table.
I kind of wonder if I could really survive 2.5 weeks without my music. I mean, I survived a week last year, but last year I had sheets of paper with song lyrics that I could stare at and sing to myself, but I don't now. So I'm stuck with tunes only.
I feel so lonely without my knives. It's making me feel more intense urges to want to have a gun in my hands, and I don't know why.
Essentially it's a desire to have power and control over your fate (and possibly others', if you're into that). It's like "well, I can't have complete control over what happens to me, but it's comforting to feel that I'm holding onto something that could be the difference between my or someone else's life or death." Okay, so I'm really into that murder thing. What's nice about having this sort of self-consciousness about that is that it means I'm less likely to actually do it due to the whole conscience thing. At the same time, though, life betcomes a tug-of-war between good and evil -- between a type of good I cannot commit and an evil that I also cannot commit.
It really sucks having to try to just ignore grandma's made up stories. Not that she's telling them to the kids or anything, but when it's lunch and she's babbling to my parents/relatives, while we're all at the same table, it's an exercise in tuning out. Fortunately the restaurant was pretty noisy and I couldn't hear them very well from the other side of the table.
I kind of wonder if I could really survive 2.5 weeks without my music. I mean, I survived a week last year, but last year I had sheets of paper with song lyrics that I could stare at and sing to myself, but I don't now. So I'm stuck with tunes only.
I feel so lonely without my knives. It's making me feel more intense urges to want to have a gun in my hands, and I don't know why.
Essentially it's a desire to have power and control over your fate (and possibly others', if you're into that). It's like "well, I can't have complete control over what happens to me, but it's comforting to feel that I'm holding onto something that could be the difference between my or someone else's life or death." Okay, so I'm really into that murder thing. What's nice about having this sort of self-consciousness about that is that it means I'm less likely to actually do it due to the whole conscience thing. At the same time, though, life betcomes a tug-of-war between good and evil -- between a type of good I cannot commit and an evil that I also cannot commit.
