Completely oblivious to the presence of a metal chair.
Big postcard developments are happening. Get excited. I got a backing coat on a series of two hundred forty last night at silkscreening. I also got covered in blood red acrylic. My workshop-mate, Joanna who has a sloped pointy nose and a soft touch, was working on a valentine for her boyfriend. I really liked the way they came out and convinced her to donate one to feather2pixels. Apparently, her boy friend is really into pork. Do you see why I am so excited about silkscreening?
Anyways, it’s a symbol of the first of several predicted stupid, fucked-up situations that I will be torturing myself over in 2007: one valentine, two women. It’s not a simple situation and feather2pixels has been vague about details. In the hopes that I can finally shut the fuck up about it:
Morgan Jameson is bad bad bad news. It’s hard to imagine what good can come of my dealings with her.
“you want to be close to me and i have a problem with that. i
have a problem with anyone wanting to be close to me. i know
this. this doesn’t mean there’s anything i can do about it. you
seem to think this has something to do with you but it doesn’t.
at some later point i’ll feel better about life and i’ll feel better
about myself and i’ll feel more secure and optimistic, and then
i’ll be ready to open up to someone. but that’s just not right now.”
Hmm. You would think that would be the final word, but the fucked-up begets the fucked-up and she surely needs my attention (which, given the proper circumstances, is not effected by such secondary concerns as my job, life, and happiness) as much as I crave her breath on my shoulder. I am crazy about her.
Sarah is gentle, active, and stable. It’s hard to imagine someone with more positivity to offer.
The polarity of the situation was recently pointed out to me. I have all the power with one girl and none of it with the other. But relationships are not supposed to make you feel dreadful. It’s obvious that I am a classic control freak–it got me to California–but what precisely is the noxious relationship in the acids of my brain between power and love? Who will receive the pork valentine?
