Black Doggerel

Added a new LJ friend today, which prompted a rush of ridiculous embarrassment at the sparsity of intelligent words in my journal of late. It can't be helped. Deathtired is bigger than I am and I can't even let myself think too hard about everything I want to be doing.

Have some linkspam as a cunning substitute for an actual entry. Many of these are regurgitated from my Facebook: I actually hate Facebook, but you wouldn't know it these days. It's just that I can forgive myself for short meaningless entries more easily on Facebook. Every time I try and write more than five words about my life it turns into bitter self-pitying whine; better just to keep my face shut.

( This got bigger than I thought it would )

Today I officially love Facebook. I've always been massively wary of getting in contact with anyone I went to school with, for a bunch of reasons - we change so very, very much, we're all basically dickheads as teenagers, and my school career can be succinctly described as nasty, brutish and short.

Nevertheless, two people I was at school with have tracked me down anyway. One, Carolyn, was my BFF at prep school when we were both pony-mad prepubescents. I am enormously tickled to discover that she's still into horses, has herding dogs and keeps bees. I can't exactly say we know each other well any more, but she's plainly awesome.

She was someone I played pretending games and made up stories with. That, far more than ponies or even sheepdogs, is the thread between us that hasn't snapped in thirty years.

The other friend, Sarah, went to my last school when we were both in our mid-to-late teens. My memory of those times is spotty at best; I didn't know it at the time but I was already starting to fall through the cracks in my own brain. That last school was a good one, but the two before it had left me skittish as a trapped wild animal; I didn't have enough trust or resilience left to let it do me any good. I ran like hell the moment I could and never went back.

Today Sarah showed me a scan of a painting I did for her at the time. I am awed. See, I don't have any of my old work left any more, and haven't had for decades. For a long time now I've been certain my memories of being able to produce good work were false, the same as my memories of flying.

Except, bugger me, they're not. I can remember doing that painting, although without seeing it again I would never have remembered what it looked like or what I was trying to do. I don't really remember if I felt I'd succeeded at the time, but looking at it now, I certainly succeeded at something. And I think I might be able to use it to rediscover the part of me that's capable of doing that; because these unkept promises have been sitting here a year now. I haven't forgotten.

Thank you, Sarah <3

...dear universe, stop heaping bad shit on people I care about. Enough is fucking enough. Thank you.

p.s. some of this bad shit is being wilfully inflicted by other people. There had better be a karmic brick to the head heading someone's way. Don't make me get up and come over there.

ETA: ambersaigh: "Everyone else should stop caring, too."
Shutting comments down now. Let's just let this die.

Bye now, 2010. I can't call this one a bad year or a good year - I lost my Dad, but my greatest fear had been that I'd lose him without finding him first, and that didn't happen. Spike got cancer, but we fought it and (touch wood) we won. The DWP and my own glands conspired to undermine every foundation holding me up, but I'm still standing.

2010's been the year with no middle ground. I've been wrestling a tiger all year, and some days he wins and some days I do. I've been holding my own, I'm even starting to move forward, but I am so godfucked tired and gunshy now. I really need a break from "interesting times." I hope to fuck 2011 can do that for me.

For everyone reading this, I wish you ease from pain, rain where it's needed, sunshine where it's wanted, snow where it's relished, and all the peace, love, joy and plenty you can take. I love you all.

And a special note to some of you - you know who you are. Thank you. I've kept a list of all your addresses, saved in two places so as not to lose it. I said when I promised artwork-for-help that I might take some time doing it; thanks to deathtired I've already taken more than I meant. I just wanted to say I'm not forgetting, I'm not going to break that promise. But please be patient a bit longer. The pills are working, but I still don't have enough energy to throw balls for the dogs two days running and making art takes a lot out of me. Thank you, again, some more.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE.

You want beautiful silk scarves, painstakingly hand-dyed by the world's finest redhead, right? And you also want to help feral cats and kittens get a better start in life?

YOU KNOW YOU DO. CLICK HERE IF YOU BELIEVE IN FAIRIES. OR IF YOU DON'T.

Live within 200 miles of Fredericksburg, Virginia?

Have room for a beloved, spoiled, cat in your life?

Today may be your lucky day. You should click through even if you're not in the market for a kitten at this time, because there are more adorable kitten photos and my friend slave2tehtink probably brings good fortune to all who rub against her blog.

YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.

nyecamden is awesome. Thank you. HAPPY UNBIRTHDAY TO ME XD

EEEEEEEE someone sent me a parcel. It has chocolate and coffee and a new Diana Wynne Jones book in it and I LOVE YOU. THANK YOU THANK YOU <3

There's no return address and no note and I know why, but from the postmark and handwriting I'm 99% certain of your identity. THANK YOU JAY. (UNLESS IT WAS WYCHWOOD BUT IT LOOKS LIKE JAY'S HANDWRITING TO ME XD)

ETA: Jay says I'm wrong. It doesn't matter in any case. I love you whoever you are XD

slave2tehtink is coming SOOOOOON! I AM OVEREXCITED!

( In which we make plans for world dobermination. or something. )