I always sign up for these things... and forget about them forever a couple hours later..
:) ohwell

i'll change my name to 450 ..i wonder if it's possible to change your name to a number?

the painting ... i'm getting a lot done at least I'm not very inspired though I suppose it's really only ..the idea that requires inspiration... after that it's just ....... stopthinkingthat ... .. . I'd like to paint with someone ..as long as it wasn't daydream :) well.. . notreally for the sake of my multiple me's .. .the cat is scared of my shoes and is avoiding me... it's making me feel hateful :

it's a treeman.. a tree with a face. and dancy invisible creatures . ... .. mmm something meaningless and pretty for my grandmother seeing I'll be breaking her heart by not being here when she visits... :) .she even said... it'd break her heart cause she hasn't seen me in 4 years . ..she's good at making others feel guilty .. I said I'd go visit her later.....
making others feel guilty .. she made me promise to say a prayer to Jesus every day to keep me safe . ... promise. if I said I'd visit her later than I can say I'll pray...   uhh

emotions must require some form of talent... some people are better at them than others

i'll have to go... I haven't been going to my appointments .. think up suitable excuses! I remember quitting ten minutes before a 10 hour shift .. . i can't remember why I'd said I had to quit but I made up something...

tsk :)
my 6 year old neighbour came with me.. he convinced me at the bus stop to go to the creek instead and catch guppies
there need to be more beautiful people.. to inspire others to be beautiful.. unless it were because the others merely felt inferior .. . but that's different and wouldn't happen
because

.   :

there are hardly any beautiful people! ..I'm the only one I know.. mmm :)

requisite: name a single beautiful object, trait, qualitiy, action .. !?     imporrible
cultivating a garden of weeds is beautiful

  the kid is so unamazing it's amazing.. he just walks in the front door while i'm at the computer and sits next to me       he stutters constantly and laughs at himself when he does... people usually finish his sentences for him and it used to upset him..... but he's used to it now ...mmmh .. which isn't good... i know too many people who can't speak... and all of them are Me.

  i want to glue jagged pieces of mirror to the wall     in specific parts I've painted ..but I don't want 7 years of bad luck.....

startling is nice...     i may change my name to startling
it's now safe to talk about things i'll do   .. -will +some other appropriate word

it's really a good thing female is a prettier word than male ... but why?

a bit dark? .. might i suggest a window or six.. with reverse windowsills and reverse pies cooling on them. I suppose they'd be the devil's pies and would have to be filled with brothers- turned-ravens... to be freed only if You, specifically, behead the twelve white roses in the garden. reverse.

the last time
there were no options; I woke up
and needed to die,
the way you need to eat breakfast
but don't.
     crosses, bows on boxes;
     what a gift, this-

who do you blame, blaspheme?
     turning back time would only make you
     dive into the grave-
chasing the escape,
the escape runs further,
awakened to the nightmare penalty
of flesh- the threshing floor
of madness, I am
just like you, therefore
     play with me, play this game with
     me. In sanity we are
     all so found, a friend to
     every living thing, dying inside
     from the outside you perceive;
     but you're killing me-
just a look, just
look at me, just.
     I don't need anything-
     I don't want anything-
your desire, your blame,
your jealousy, your constancy,
your dependency-

nothing's clean.

no... i do not have more than one person in my head

though once a while ago.. my still born twin came out.. triggered by abuse and a desire to protect me... her body had died in the womb . with me... so her mind had integrated with mine.. but remained dormant until she had reason to come out... ever think about what it's like to be in a womb with a dead twin? like being in a coffin with a body .. where did that body go? it disappeared.. anyway... she woke up and took control of the body.. flinging me to the back of the mind... and.. fixed things.. see she could do anything she liked.. and then go back to sleep to leave me to face the consequences... .. of course.. no one believed she was real... but she was! she was..

i don't remember what happened to her... there is a gap missing from my memory.. a two year gap.. about... before that gap she was there.. fluttering around in my head... and where the gap cleared.. she was no longer there... but my memory is so deceiving..

hmmm... it's tegretol's fault i'm pregnant.

it's better to be loved by no one than to be incapable of love?

10:22
i'd like to stay awake for as long as possible... but I'm sure I'll give in before even midnight. it's easier to sleep, i'd surely have to keep myself constantly occupied throughout the night, and i'm too lazy and haven't the patience. Sarah is sleeping outside in the neighbours' tent with Zach and ..the other one, who's older. they're 6 and 10... Sarah is 14. she said today she'd be sorry i was gone, once I was gone... but only because it means she'll have to do the housework.
I painted my clay head... it has green skin, i'm undecided on what colour hair or eyes. should it's lips also be a different colour? i feel bad calling it an it, but i haven't decided whether it's male or female... it looks rather androgynous. but then it has green skin, does it have to have a sex?
unlike most of my heads, all of it's facial features are present. i love it's hollow cheeks and sunken eyes.
i still want a mannequin.
I finally finished the coffee table today... repainted all the fiddley scratched bits and collaged the leftover areas... with Venus de Milo and a wizard.. and sunflowers. it's been varnished too.. it looks much better shiney.. more professional. i'd sanded the top surface (discovered the top wasn't made of wood, but rather laminated with fake wood and was woodchip underneath. typical of my grandfather, who made it) and repainted it white with housepaint ..I'm proud of myself merely for finishing it. All I've yet to finish are the re-upholstering of the foot stool, which is pretty complicated as i'm doing it irregular-patch style with velvets, and the clay head. i'm going to glaze that, too. not the footstool though.
how are you, stef? are you at home again? i'm sorry i was away. <-- not an apology.

it's 10:30.
my eyes aren't getting any better, despite my irregular and infrequent, unreliable use of the eyedrops. i was meant to use them 4 times a day for two days.. and really have been using them once a day for over a week. I wonder if my eyes have built up an immunity due to my inappropriate usage? i've also been worrying about my eyesite, seeing Dr Cartwright had mentioned that my short sightedness would be straining my eyes, which would worsen the ..short sightedness. but God made me with bad eyes, should i admit his capability of mistakes by correcting something... that may not be a mistake?
people correct God's "mistakes" constantly.
I wonder if they're mistakes.
i don't suppose he would create us perfect, what would be the interest in that? everyone would be the same and there wouldn't be any purpose to life at all. not that what i think is purpose to life is necessarily life's purpose. my left eye is much worse than my right, i don't notice it's blurry until i close my right eye.
my mother is watching Good News Week in the living room, i have red cordial, putty has a rat outside the window. there is a large green tree frog on the window, his white belly and round suction-toes are flat against it. his throat is vibrating. they're around because it's been raining for a few days, long enough for our solar water heater to be useless. i should switch the hot water thingah to electric now, while i think about it, but it's dark and wed and froggy outside and i'm safe and warm in the light, where there are no flesh-eating green glowing x-file bugs.
last night i watched The Astronaut's Wife. Johnny Depp looks plain and boring with blonde hair, i like him much better dark. the entire movie was rather plain and boring. there were a few interesting parts, one i remember is the wife sitting on the train.. or subway.. images flashing and that awful alien noise. it was artistically pleasing. except for the noise, alien whispery scratchy type noises in movies scare me, as does radio and TV fuzz. perhaps because of Poltergeist, or maybe i was only scared of Poltergeist because of the TV fuzz, that and i think i was too young to be watching it.
twins are scary. i watched The Shining today, there were scary twins in that movie too. scary twins in both movies. twin children are scarier. I've now seen both versions of The Shining and i think the older one is better. the wife was attractive in an unattractive way, i liked her. I liked the way the boy talked to his finger, Tony. I don't remember the other version too well, i saw it too long ago. it ran for much longer, the pruned-bush creatures were creepy, but the labyrinth was creepier.
hmm.

10:48, my mother is making toast with peanut butter and cheese. she nibbles now instead of smoking. which i guess is better. she used my magnetic poetry board today:
whispers over rain
a thousand soft breaths
all will leap off colour
I didn't tell her, but i don't like it; nor did i like the one she'd done before it, which was remarkably similar. though it's magnetic poetry. i don't like magnetic poetry at all, using words that aren't even your own. no matter how uninspired you are you can put together something like the above, and a stupid person will think it's great. my mother isn't stupid, i don't know.
i want to go to the theatre on monday, there is an australian film showing i'd like to see. looking for alibrandi. i like that more australian films are coming out recently, even though usually they're awful. the wog boy was awful, though i didn't see it. because it looked awful.
I've done the dishes already, usually i leave them for the morning, because i don't like doing them in the dark. there's no light in the kitchen.

10:57, a message. from pre-angel boy.
in 8 minutes the aliens will arrive.

i don't think i'll be able to concentrate on this non-thought anymore.

time is speeding up. the rate of change of time is probably exponential, a sudden plateauing towards the end and then three sharp nodes : boom! where am i? gone.

mortality isn't chiselling a fierce staccato on my door yet but i feel responsibility. not to future generations (or lack thereof), not to benign political powers and no, not to my parents. just a gentle wish that when those three nodes escalate and sound, i will be able to recall at an instant the essence of my life. how easy is that.

here's a chance then, to encapsulate fragile memories while they're still fresh and crystalline, and file them neatly away. god knows i'm already too full of yellowed snapshots, where everyone smiles at the camera and has an arm around someone else. these snapshots hold no regret no loss and no true happiness; just an unemotional record of who was there, and whose arm was around who. those details i can remember anyway.

• why won't you ask me if i love you?
• i don't want to seem needy.
• sometimes we need people to be needy.
• i'm not, if i am i hide it.
• why? it makes me feel unloved, unimportant.
• i'm scared of that, more than anything. except appearing needy. i'm based on the opinions of others. you.
• that isn't true, you just notice it more than others.
• do you notice it?
• i don't notice any of your bad points.
• you're aware of them?
• i wouldn't be if you didn't tell me of them.
• why do we insist on relaying our insecurities?
• perhaps you're telling me before i tell you. only i wouldn't tell you. you notice things, negative things, about youself only because you're looking.
• we're all guilty.
• yes.
• why don't we look for the good things?
• we're too imperfect. it's the other's responsibility, we need other people only to make us feel good about ourselves because we're incapable of making ourselves feel good.
• everyone should talk to themself then.
• they'd be happier.
• are you happy?
• no.
• then why do you say they would be?
• people aren't like me. they love and laugh and believe. they cry at death. they're human.
• what makes someone human?
• emotion, compassion, intelligence, imagination.
• all mind, no heart.
• unbalance is favourable.
• why?
• it's more interesting.
• you're based on the opinions of others.
• everyone is the same. or everyone is different. i wish i had a brain.
• don't wish. i love you.
• i hate you, i wish you would die.
• i either wish i had never existed, or that everyone else would stop existing.
• i love you.
• you're a liar.
• yeah.
• so am i. it's impossible to not be.
• to accurately express anything.
• emotion is a diversion.
• emotion is beautiful.
• i want to destroy everything beautiful.
• whether you destroy yourself in the process or not, you will be destroyed.
• i was conceived destroyed.
• you're so melodramatic.
• it's like lying.
• anything.
• anything is awful. i'd love it.
• you'd love anything?
• i wish.
• don't wish.
• i'm sorry.
• you're a liar.
• i don't know what liar or sorry mean.
• you're lucky.
• nothing is.