if she gets nowhere in life at least she knows she's pretty

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-12-12T02:06:00

2009-12-12T10:06:02Z

there are days when i feel like my sickness is out of control, that maybe i'm not controlling it as much as i think. then again, i'm never sure if it is about control. sometimes it is just about coping. it's about making it through another day with my sanity intact.

but there is one thing that i am thankful for every single day. i'm thankful that my mother never once pushed meds on me. she knows the severity of it. she's watched me struggle since i was five or six years old. but my mother put her faith in me. she believed that i was stronger on my own than medication could ever make me. i don't know if i can ever tell her how important that has been for me. she puts up with me on my awful days and still loves me without conditions.

it's time like this when i realize exactly how damned lucky i am.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-12-04T02:31:00

2009-12-04T10:31:57Z

it may just be the onset of ocd, but i find wearing fingerless gloves takes a lot of the anxiety out of shaking hands with strange people... and also it keeps my hands warm, so double win.

i realized tonight that the hula hoop may be the best invention in the history of ever. hula hooping in a bar makes being sober awesome. next order of business? go buy a hula hoop of my very own.

i miss something that i've never truly had. it's unsettling. i visit this place over and over in my head where i can feel you breathing against the back of my neck as i fall asleep.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-12-02T20:35:00

2009-12-03T04:35:23Z

of all the crazy things on this earth, there is one thing that i want. (i'm not telling what it is, but i will say that at some point i became some sort of very strange romantic.)

when are my dreams going to stop breaking my heart?

2009-11-24T21:38:44Z

i had one of those dreams last night that stays with you long after you wake up. it was the sort of dream that i used to tell my mother about when i woke up as a child. something that has to be shared to start to feel a little easier to bear.

in my dream, i was out at a bar with some girl friends. i don't know if i actually know the girls or if i just couldn't bother to remember their faces because they weren't really a central part of the dream. as we were walking through the parking lot on the way to the bar, we passed by a little pink bundle on the ground. it looked like a discarded baby doll. we didn't really think anything of it and went inside. i don't remember anything inside the bar. i think time just sort of skipped over it. when we came back outside, there was a man face down in the gravel next to the pink bundle. all of a sudden, he started thrashing violently, bringing his forearms smashing down on the bundle over and over again while shouting "shut up! just shut up already!" it was then that we heard the whimpering and realized the bundle was a baby. my friends kicked the guy on the ground in the ribs a few times as i picked up the baby. i can still feel how delicate and somehow miraculously undamaged it was, despite being so small and fragile. we ran away with the baby, but i don't remember much about that part of the dream aside from being searched for by the man's drunk crazy girlfriend. one of my friends pulled out her cell phone, but i can't remember if we actually called the police.

eventually, i found the baby a home with this man. i don't remember much about him aside from the fact that he was tall with broad shoulders and short, dark hair. he may have been native american. for some reason that detail sounds right. i remember watching the little boy i had found grow up. even thinking about it now makes me smile. they are the sort of memories it takes years to form, things that create this deep emotional bond. at the end of the dream, i remember standing in an enclosed field underneath a giant tree. it isn't the sort of tree i've ever seen in california, more like something pulled straight out of my brain from when i lived in connecticut. the boy was about seven or eight years old, all thing fragile-looking limbs. he had the most amazing smile and dark liquid looking eyes. his happiness meant more than anything to me. maybe i felt like i had to make up for the start of his life. i'm not entirely certain. the man who had raised him and i were helping him build a tent. we felt like it was important for the boy (who oddly never had a name in my dream) to have a space of his own, somewhere to feel safe and to be alone when he wanted to be. i think it was a gesture made more for our peace of mind than his. he seemed to be blissful and unaware of what he had been through before coming to live with this man. i bent down to help the boy with something and as i stood, i could see over the top of the tent. on the other side of the wood fence, i could see his biological parents and their four or five kids standing there. i knew they had come to take him back. i can't remember what was said between his biological parents and the man and i, but i remember this feeling of helplessness. there was nothing i could do to keep him from having to go back with them. there was this sense of loss, of having my own child ripped away from me. i was terrified that he would die with them and there was nothing i could do to protect him, to save him. the last thing i remember was kneeling down and putting my hands on his shoulders, trying to memorize every last thing about him while tears rolled down my face. i hugged him tightly, remembering that first initial feeling of love for him when he had been an infant. and then i sang to him. it sounded something like a traditional irish folk song or ballad to me and i woke up with it stuck in my head. i wrote some of the words down just so that i could get back to sleep. maybe i will try to turn it into an actual song. or maybe just a lullaby.

seriously, for some reason, i can't shake off the deep emotional weight of this dream.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-11-20T14:17:00

2009-11-20T22:17:51Z

i think my dreams are trying to tell me something.

last night i had dreams about tiny children demons that fed on creativity. i seem to have lost the main narrative. at some point, telling the story of how everyone got to the underground became way more interesting than anything else. or i'm just not certain how to go about telling that part of the story. it is based in a time in my life where my head was on every direction but straight. my thinking was certainly a sort of labyrinth with no damned exit.

i wonder if going back to look at the journals from that time period if i will be able to recapture that feeling. it was all so fragmented, everything felt crucial and this strange combination of beautiful and brutal.

wish me luck, kids.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-11-19T02:03:00

2009-11-19T10:03:26Z

are there any activities in life that aren't made better by the simple addition of another human being? perhaps i'm just melancholy after being around the nauseating effects of my little sister and her boyfriend. of course, parents are out of town so he HAS to stay over and he has to be up early so they have to go to bed early. lame.

maybe it is just being around them that has further emphasized my own loneliness. it isn't as though i am longing for anything or anyone from my past. it isn't even about the no sex thing... which is going to start getting ridiculous any day now. funny how you never notice those little places that turn into giant gaps when you have no one around to fill them.

at least i will get to sleep in a bed full of cuddly puppies for the next few nights. this morning my jack russell curled up at the small of my back. when starbuck realized i was waking up for the day, she crept up the length of my body and pressed her nose against mine. sometimes they are so cute that it makes me remember why i often like dogs better than most people.

currently, they are all crashed out on the furniture dreaming puppy dreams full of twitchy feet.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-11-17T02:09:00

2009-11-17T10:09:15Z

sat outside for a bit watching the meteor shower. i might not have been looking hard enough, but i stayed out until i couldn't feel my feet and didn't see any meteors. i did get to have a nice stop and smell the roses moment. it was really nice actually.

then i realized how much nicer it would have been to lay out on a blanket with you, holding hands and enjoying the moment together.

i find this song unbelievably amazing in this moment

2009-11-15T08:05:31Z

I'm Gonna shine up my boots,
I'm gonna go into town,
I'm gonna scrape up 20 dollars,
I'm gonna throw it around
I'm gonna buy me a dance,
first lovely lady that I see,
And when the dance is through
I'll say, "will you marry me"

I'm gonna shine up my boots,
I'm gonna go into town,
I'm gonna scrape up 20 dollars,
I'm gonna throw it around
I'm gonna find me a game,
Of hold 'em if I can,
and fold 'em all night long,
til I got me a hand

I'm gonna buy us a ranch,
With a Palomino Herd
And I won't mean no harm,
babe and I won't say a word.
When misery comes to call,
A gift to him, my life
I'll sit with him awhile,
and share my horse, my hole, my wife

I'm gonna shine up my boots,
I'm gonna go into town,
I'm gonna scrape up 20 dollars,
I'm gonna throw it around.
I'm gonna buy me a dance,
first lovely lady that i see,
and when the dance is through,
I'll say "will you marry me"

I'm gonna shine up my boots,
I'm gonna go into town,
I'm gonna scrape up 20 dollars,
But I'll probably just drink it down

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-11-14T04:17:00

2009-11-14T12:17:47Z

got off work a bit before midnight. knocked out almost 3,000 words since i put down the computer and sat down with a notebook and pencil. i feel goddamned invincible right now.

feeling a little weak in other senses and starting to wonder if i'm not more than a little crazy. probably am. then again, probably doesn't matter. do i need sleep? probably.

also, what the hell is with the number of people who come into my work and try to set me up with people? i don't think i've ever blushed this much in my entire life, though validation from near strangers is oddly sweet. how do you explain that you've already found everything you are looking for and are just trying to figure out a way to make things work? (seriously, pulling a felicity is all sorts of nuts... also, i watched like three episodes of that show and i still think it is a crazy idea) i am starting to wonder if perhaps there isn't something about me that screams desperate; i'm pretty sure i manage to keep my lack of a love life under wraps at work.

sometimes, i just want to do something fiercely romantic that would only make sense in a television show or a novel. in fiction, people get away with all sorts of insanity. everyone oohs and ahhs and reaches for a box of kleenex. now how to make life imitate art as opposed to the other way around?

bottle of inspiration, insanity, or honesty... i'm leaving that one up to you, dear reader.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-11-13T00:26:00

2009-11-13T08:26:28Z

the contents of the box:

several pages torn from different phone books (with random words and letters circled in red sharpie marker)
two brightly colored feathers from a pet parrot
a baby tooth
four resin filled bottle cap magnets with words in them (firefly, teleportation, crossword, and woodpecker)
three old keys to doors that probably don't exist anymore
a pocket watch that only keeps the time in beijing
one of those red glass stones from a fish tank
a cd (contents unknown)

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-11-11T03:34:00

2009-11-11T11:45:37Z

it seems that my brain only has two settings these days: novel and boy. of course, only one of those things could be considered productive. just broke 14,000 words (so i'm only about 3,000 words behind where i'm supposed to be). i'm at 28.2 percent completion. if i can average 1,796 words a day i can still finish this one time. (i'm not actually lagging that badly and have been averaging around 3,000 words a day.... well, since monday)

i can't tell if it is depression or focus that has managed to keep me from washing my hair since saturday. i'm not particularly depressed, so i'm going with focus as my excuse. tomorrow, hair is definitely getting washed... before it crawls away on its own. oddly, my hair still smells nice and shampoo-like. what the hell?

oh and i lost a large portion of time today that could have been spent writing to designing my own set of fortune telling cards. why? because one of my characters uses them and i wanted something outside the frame of reference of tarot. very loosely based them on a set of russian fortune telling cards i once saw. got frustrated part way through because i kept falling into my symbol dictionary. i love that thing. it is impossible not to indulge every whim and look up all sorts of crazy stuff in it.

any way, sleepy time for kat.

p.s. dammit, why am i hungry at almost 4 a.m.?

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-11-09T17:52:00

2009-11-10T01:56:39Z

i swear, any minute, i'm going to start being productive and it is going to blow everyone's mind. we're talking ten thousand words in a day or two. or y'know... the necessary 7,000 in the next six hours (should be cake, right?).

on another note, two years of this and i'm starting to feel a little bit like i've made everything up. sure, i have proof, but what is stopping it from being like the plot of some shitty horror movie (high tension, i'm looking at you) where i killed your wife and i am your wife? (yeah, i just managed a reference to a french horror film and eddie izzard all in the same sentence.)

i'm putting on casablanca, muting the tv, putting on some music and massacring several thousand words. this whole novel in a month thing is totally going to be my bitch.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-11-01T22:35:00

2009-11-02T06:36:16Z

the answer to all questions?

maybe, baby.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-10-27T17:46:00

2009-10-28T00:50:21Z

i am just going to apologize now for any graphic sex entries produced by celibacy induced insanity.

thank you in advance for your forgiveness.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-10-24T11:45:00

2009-10-24T18:48:36Z

i had a dream about you last night. after two years of speaking, but being unable to touch we were actually in the same room. of all places we were on the pull out couch at my grandmother's house watching b horror movies. you would occasionally put your arms around me, but it felt like you were afraid to actually pull me close to you. your lips would sometimes, almost accidentally, brush against my neck and i would be unable to catch my breath.

and then we had to hunt demons.

sometimes, i wish i could just have a good old fashioned sex dream.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-10-20T01:38:00

2009-10-20T08:40:27Z

i give you permission to be self-indulgent. i give you permission to write badly. i give you permission to write the songs you would have written as a melodramatic 13 year old, the songs you would hate ten years from now.

most importantly, i beg you to create.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-10-12T14:53:00

2009-10-12T22:19:20Z

i woke up this morning with an incurable grin on my face. that glow i somehow forgot because it has seemed so far out of reach for so long. this morning, things seemed a little more manageable.

i was probably manic at work. bouncing off of everything, joyously giddy, joking with everyone. my coworkers asked me if i got laid last night. not for something like six weeks now. it's probably going to be a long cold winter in that regard. and i'm strangely okay with that. sure, it's nice to share a warm bed with someone. kisses are generally magic. but it's all been junk food for so long and what i want is something a bit more wholesome, more filling.

i woke up knowing that i would have to call him and end it today. it should have happened yesterday. the break up stung considerably more than i thought it would. perhaps it was the fact that he let me go without a fight. he was too robotic for me in the end. the same lack of emotion, lack of passion, plagued our relationship until its end.

i've crawled into my pj's at 3 p.m. mostly out of ritual. that is what you do after a break up. pajamas and blankets on a grey cloudy day combined with puppy cuddling.

it's odd to be both sad and unable to stop smiling.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-10-08T21:14:00

2009-10-09T04:21:37Z

it's nights like these, bored and restless, when i miss you. at times we hated each other and yet were so oddly intimate. after a night of drinking and bad ideas, my favorite bad idea was getting back into bed with you. there was always no pretense for why i was there, but we still sat and talked before taking off our clothes. you'd cover your face with a pillow when you came. we'd smoke a cigarette and then fall asleep.

i always slept peacefully next to you. i'd wake up far earlier than i would at home, kiss you on the forehead and slip out quietly. sunglasses covering the eyeliner smeared across my face, my underwear tucked into the back pocket of my jeans, i staggered out feeling like the rock star ghost of a one night stand. sunlight too bright everywhere and i'd wave to the old woman out walking her dog. i could feel her shaking her head at me as i got into my car.

god, we were such a beautiful mess.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-09-26T03:21:00

2009-09-26T10:23:28Z

oh, darling, i don't think you know exactly how far in over your head you are. everything was fine until you went and had your little existential crisis. and now you've got me thinking.

i see storm clouds on the horizon and somehow just can't bring myself to care enough to find an umbrella.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-09-07T04:10:00

2009-09-07T11:12:15Z

when she felt as though she could crumble under her own weight, she turned to a diet of clouds and wishes to make her insubstantial again.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-09-04T01:21:00

2009-09-04T08:31:44Z

i've been all sorts of positive energy lately and refusing to let little things make my life dark, but i think there comes a time to say something. i don't need to actually say it to you, just to get it off my chest somewhere.

right now, that thing i need to say is fuck you.

fuck you, asshole ex-boyfriend. you got to be the victim after the breakup and deservedly so. when i left, i poured gasoline in the kitchen sink and tossed a match over my shoulder so i could stand outside and watch everything burn to the ground. it wasn't my nicest moment, certainly not something i'm proud of.

so why, two years after the fact, when i am over it all and older and wiser do you warrant a fuck you?

for the text message conversation we had earlier this week. months after telling me you never wanted to see me again, you texted to say that sometimes, late at night, you miss me. sweet, right? not exactly.

it was the beginning of an attempt to talk me into bed. it was an attempt to put me back in that place where the only value i found in myself was as a sex object. i have learned so much about myself, least of all that i am more than some toy for satisfying your sexual whims. you may have only been happy inside me, but when i was with you i was happy just to be with you. i've often thought back to the last time we had sex when we were together. i've thought back to the moment i rolled over and wanted to hit you for pressuring me into having sex with you that night. i remember how i silently cried myself to sleep lying next to you. when i told you that the last time we had sex made me suicidal, you said that i was suicidal long before you ever met me and that i shouldn't blame it on you.

and now, as then, you tried to manipulate me through guilt. by saying that the sex was the only good thing about me when we were together. i am so much more than that. i have grown strong and am reminded by friends that i am a "badass motherfucker who could kill ... with [my] pinky". and it feels good. it feels good to know that those wings i kept curled up inside me have finally ripped their way through my skin and i have come through the other side of all that pain as something terrifyingly beautiful.

so, yeah, fuck you for ever trying to make me think differently.

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-08-10T18:58:00

2009-08-11T01:59:36Z

if you know, then you know. if you don't know, then we are wasting our time. is it irrational to still want to believe in magic and love that hits you so quick and so hard that when you hit the pavement, you still feel like you're floating?

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-08-09T02:06:00

2009-08-09T09:09:40Z

there is a part of me that says if you know, then you know. if you want to be with me, then you want to be with me and waiting won't change a thing. there is another part that says that anything good is worth waiting and why force something into a mold if it is fine the way it is.

i find myself desired by others, yet desiring only you. it is in the depth of your eyes, the smell of your skin, the way you put your hands on my face when you kiss me. i remember the first night you kissed me, one hand on my face, the other on the small of my back, leaning into me. it was the sort of kiss you see in movies, but never really experience. this should be good enough, but i want more.

i want you to call me yours. i want and want and want. and this killing time is killing me.

i write you from sweet intoxication

2009-08-04T10:50:53Z

i miss the days of certainty, of knowing where i stood. when i knew who to call at four in the morning, when everything seemed on the verge of the end of the world. now i worry when my phone is silent for hours on end, torturing myself with visions of you and some high school sweetheart you have surely reconnected with. i know it is ridiculous, but i also know that this breaks the pattern.

and yeah, i said it accidentally, but i meant it with everything i have. it's not just for you, it is with you. with you that i feel things i had resigned to fairy tales and romance novels. i get breathless just from kissing you, i get high from breathing in your skin. and in the morning i will regret this reckless outburst, this uncontrolled island in the center of my wonderfully controlled self, but for now, in this moment though i tried to forget the worry, i remember everything that makes me feel like this.

fuck. why can't you just let me know everything is okay?

broknmirrorgirl @ 2009-07-31T01:46:00

2009-07-31T08:50:20Z

would it be so bad if i stopped carrying the words around inside my mouth? i find myself with teeth clenched to keep everything under control because i swore i wouldn't be vulnerable again. i wouldn't lose the power struggle that is every relationship again by admitting my weakness first.

but does my silence make it any less real? that feeling is once again bubbling in my chest, overflowing into the ridiculous smile that lives on my lips, and into the bubblegum pop song that plays on repeat in my head.