solitary_summer: (masquerade (© clive barker))

Somewhat surprisingly, no hangover this morning. Vague headache, and the realisation that doing things balancing on top of a ladder probably wasn't the best idea, but nothing worse.


Sunday R. and I were in Klosterneuburg, to visit the Essl museum; the exhibition on modern Mexican art was interesting, R. loved Diego Riviera, I preferred the paintings by José Clemente Orozco, and there were a couple of others I really liked, but I didn't take notes like I usually do when I'm at an exhibition on my own so I'm kind of lost for the moment. The Maria Lassnig exhibition was... hard to describe, I find her paintings intriguing and disconcerting at the same time. Interesting contrast, too, come to think of it, the social concern of the Mexican painters and Lassning's more private images and vision of the human body. Modern art still mostly baffles me, and with few exceptions is not really something I like instinctively, but I've been trying to broaden my horizons recently and actually like discovering new artists for myself...

Monday... one of those truly horrible days at work. I think perhaps the hard thing is when you've done something that fits you, that is you, art, writing, thinking, your mind & imagination alert, and then to be stuck again in the mind-numbing routine... anger, restlessness, frustration, changing to apathy and tiredness in the afternoon.

U. called, if I wanted to have a drink after work with some co-workers; I didn't, but it was her birthday, so I went along, & chatted & got drunk & contrary to expectations it wasn't too bad. A weird, but not entirely unpleasant sense of belonging, of not being different all the time, and it didn't feel too wrong, or fake, it was kind of nice. ::shrug:: Probably no one but me would over-analyse getting drunk with a few co-workers... it's just not a thing I usually do, and it felt less weird/awkward than I thought it would.

And maybe I should really start to question my (a?)sexuality, because I found not-really-co-worker-from-another-shop-who-I-barely-know's breasts a little distracting, and that was only half-way through the first drink. Granted, they were pretty, and rather, er, on display, so to speak, but finding them distracting, as in, sexually attractive at all, is another thing that is weird for me, because usually I don't find much of anything sexually attractive, breasts or other body-parts.


Then again perhaps it was the alcohol, because I seem to have reverted to my usual asexual self already & find writing about this slightly strange, like someone else's experience, nothing that I could have felt.



He. I actually managed to finish this entry. Go me, or something.
solitary_summer: (night (© clive barker))

Well, thank god for not-so-crappy tv shows, because apparently somewhere in the process of analysing a character you may actually get some insight into yourself. Then again, could be this is projecting my own issues onto the character in question, but as far as the results are concerned it doesn't make any difference...


I've come to the conclusion that what I've been doing for some time now (with barely any exception at all) is keep people at a distance, emotionally as well as physically, making it impossible for them to hurt me, to reject me; to have power over me in any that matters.

I can keep up a level of good-will towards the universe in general, but as far as individual people are concerned... either they just don't matter very much, or in the rare case when it seems they may begin to do, at one point some kind of defense mechanism kicks in that makes me pull away, even break off contact entirely.

I'm guessing the mostly-asexual thing is also part of this problem.

So of course I don't, can't, really appreciate affection (love?) either, because I can never entirely believe it's real, and even while I occasionally whine about being lonely, most of the time I - probably unconsciously, at this point - choose safety over the risk of emotions.

When did this happen?

More importantly, how do you even begin to try to change something like that? How do you consciously try to let yourself get close to anyone again, maybe in the end let yourself love anyone? Seven easy steps, or twelve, or whatever it is?

So, so fucked up.

solitary_summer: (context (© clive barker))

One of these days when my brain seems to be wholly incapable of processing language...


After checking the weather-forecast decided to drive Wednesday... there's the urge to get away as soon as possible, but apparently it'll be cold & snowing the whole week, and I'm not too keen on driving in the dusk/dark in such conditions; nor on skiing in a snowstorm, so there's no particular need to hurry. It'll be less stressful, seeing that I still some shopping to do. And cleaning.

Can't decide whether to get the the camera now and take it along, get acquainted with it, take some holiday pictures, or if I want this to be a technology-free holiday, just reading, relaxing, a bit of skiing - no tv, no internet, and no camera manual...

.:.:.:.


... )
solitary_summer: (Default)

(This goes back a few days...)

Sometimes I hate dreaming about love; sex (not that it happens all that often). Like yesterday morning. Lost much of the context, but that kiss is still very (uncomfortably) real - almost physical. And what does that say about my life. Sad.


On a not entirely unrelated note...

Cut for personal issues presumably of rather limited interest to anyone else. )
solitary_summer: (Default)

:: points to mood icon :: seriously so...

I'm sure there are kind and helpful policemen out there, and it's just coincidence that every single one I come across seems to be a fascist in the making who uses his uniform to make up for whatever his live is lacking in in other departments and enjoys the power it gives him in ways that make me decidedly uncomfortable.

For fuck's sake, we work door-to-door, so to speak, would it have hurt him to ask me politely not to lock my bike to the signpost? ... rather than threaten to have it cut off and thrown away as junk the next time. Do they think that because they carry a gun common politeness or even the barest minimum standards of human interaction can automatically be suspended?



And G*.... the less said, the better. I was amused before... now I'm pissed off. And vaguely annoyed that he forces me to have this whole highly theoretical drama. I'm coming out as, what, theoretically, potentially, probably bisexual. :: rolleyes :: This is so *typically* me, I don't know whether it's more pathetic or funny. Shouldn't I at least have something (or someone, rather) to show for all this fuss?

Maybe it'd have been the friendly thing to let the subject drop, but after a rather exhausting work day I didn't feel very charitable and I've had enough of this lets pretend it didn't happen and never, never an apology shit from my father to last me a lifetime. So I chose to make it very clear that he's the one with a problem, not I. If I embarrassed him by letting him know I told M*... no, I'm not particularly sorry. Not at all, really. Especially seeing as he apparently was in the process of convincing himself I hadn't really meant it anyway....
solitary_summer: (Default)

[sorry for spelling & incoherency. kinda drunk.]

weird, weird evening. g* and I did the I-might-be-attracted-to-women,-generally, thing covered at one point quite some time ago, but apparently he didn't remember and also it's apparently a major step from theoretical bisexuality to admitting i found one particular woman (someone he knew at that) sexually attractive at one point, but then, he did ask... and I thought, wtf, i wasn't going to chicken out.

Incidentally I also trusted we had a friendship of sorts, stable enough I could say something like that. seems I was mistaken.

major need! another! beer! freak out on his part, for several reasons. apparently me saying I like him as a friend, but only as a friend never struck home before, but me saying I found one woman sexually attractive... did. Never mind all the times I was in love, heartbreak and all, It was with guys.

I don't know if I'm really a lesbian in deep denial. I honestly don't.

so maybe laughing didn't really help things, but what with two glühweins and two red wines after having eaten barely anything all day i was simply too drunk to find his stunned O!M!G! reaction anything but utterly hilarious. so we're looking at each other across the table me unable to stop the giggling, he... tact? er. not so much. took a little time for me to realise he's dead serious when he's saying he's shocked and disappointed. then I was swerving wildly between amused, offended, and understanding.

because on the one hand i understand his need for distance, if he reallly only realised now that he didn't have a chance with me, although to my best knowledge this doesn't have to do anything with my sexual orietnation (whatever that may be), on the other hand as a human being i feel, oh, i don't know, a bit offended, if at the moment he convinces himself i might not be available as a girl friend, i'm discarded as a friend, too. him declaring this would be the last time we sat together like that.


he's the first person (offline) I came out to as bisexual in so many words, and yes, ok, difficult circumstances & such, but... annoyng, still. hurt? not really. part of me felt I should be offended at some of the things he came up with, some of which were quite insulting (if, in a few cases cases, maybe not entirely untrue, either), but another part of me felt just so strong, so far above all this stupidity. being able to laugh at him, even if it wasn't kind. still. being told he values my intellect, that I'm still good enough to go on correcting his manuscripts, but not to drink a beer with... that did hurt, kind of, told him in this case he could keep his manuscripts too. the finality of it. he was more drunk than i was at this point, so maybe didn't mean it, but it still hurt. but he was the one hurting more, so I guess it is his decision. apparently I did hurt him quite a lot, inadvertedly.

and it shouldn't feel as - almost good considering, I just did hurt someone.


it should probably hurt more, except it doesn't. I don't



need to eat soemthing, to sober up a bit.

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March 2013

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