artemisagrotera's Journal

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  • Even if you weren't asking me,

    by artemisagrotera on June 26, 2012
    I will volunteer this information: Yeah, you were. Every night since Friday. Sometimes you are saving me from something--we were driving away very quickly, I don't know what from. You were stressed out, but in control and concentrating very hard. It was kind of hot. Sometimes you are holding me and we are lying down, I think in your apartment, but I'm not sure. We are about to kiss, or things are about to escalate, but I never get to experience it. You are always wearing black, and you always look really good. You are almost always under duress, but handling it capably. But still, I never get to kiss you. I haven't been able to for months. No sex dreams either--for almost a year. But yeah, I dream about you a lot. I wish I dreamt about you more. I had one right around the spring equinox, in which there was a war going on and you came to rescue me, and you were angry that I wasn't taking care of myself, but I had secret knowledge about our safety, so I beckoned to you from under the covers and we held each other like lovers, but still I never got to kiss you. I just want to feel you near me. I want to know how it feels to share a kiss with you, how it feels to surrender. I wish I could have you in the dream world, because the possibility of that happening in the physical world seems so distant.
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  • @Beautifulme7:

    by artemisagrotera on June 25, 2012
    I am fairly certain I am only talking to myself.
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  • okay.

    by artemisagrotera on June 24, 2012
    I think I reset myself. I hope you could see there was good here, and there still is.
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  • no no no no no

    by artemisagrotera on June 24, 2012

    the timestamped archive that I consult when I want to use circumstantial evidence to guess how you are feeling, or to convince myself that something is going on even if it isn't--it's gone. Completely erased, forever. This hurts me so much that I actually feel sickened. I know it's your right to do whatever you want to do with your information for whatever reason, and not have to be burdened with whatever histrionic bullshit reaction I'm going to vomit all over this silly little journal, but the effect is that I'm devastated. I feel ridiculous and ashamed for feeling that way, but I can't help it. It gave me solace to believe that even when I felt like you were pulling away from me, I could look at what I imagined to be a history of emotions and reactions, and convince myself that there was a time when you felt differently. Even if it wasn't real, even if it was all invented by some part of my brain that wants to be loved so much that it conjured up an imaginary connection made of coincidence and incorrectly drawn conclusions, it gave me comfort, and some fleeting happiness. Knowing that it's gone is a terrible loss to endure. You probably did me a huge favor, but instead I feel like you just punched me hard in the gut and laughed. So obviously, I lose the signal if it gets cut.

    (Disclaimer: I am not assuming this has anything to do with me--I am just describing the effect. I know I am often delusional, and have trouble distinguishing reality from what my mind has made up. But paranoia is speaking pretty loudly to me today, and shame whispers in my ear that if I weren't such a nuisance, this never would have happened.)

    1 Comment

  • oh wow

    by artemisagrotera on June 22, 2012

    I am sorry. I forgot I even posted this until just now. You don't owe me anything, especially not an explanation for anything you do, ever. I'm still confused, but that's my own fault for choosing to take any of our interactions at anything but face value. (I imagine being friends with a crazy person (me) is probably exhausting and infuriating, but on a rare occasion, a really good time)

    I suppose this is further evidence of the quality of your work; it's driving me insane. (I meant that as a compliment with no sarcasm intended)

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  • I lost the signal

    by artemisagrotera on June 22, 2012
    I don't know what you want . I don't know what to do, I don't know what you mean, I don't know who you're talking to. If you're there, I can't feel you anymore. Please make it clear so I can stop wasting my time.
    1 Comment

  • i don't understand

    by artemisagrotera on June 18, 2012
    i don't understand why you take them back, or how you could not know
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  • Let's just do a bunch of drugs together

    by artemisagrotera on June 16, 2012
    and see what happens. Bodies take over. (actually, that's probably a terrible idea) That would have been a reasonable approach and a perfectly acceptable solution when I was 24 or 25. Now it's unbecoming, I think. I still kind of want to do it, though
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  • and now that I've conducted this therapy session in my head,

    by artemisagrotera on June 16, 2012

    I should probably return to reality and get back to work. You could either privately claim partial credit as facilitator or just ignore my outbursts, and I wouldn't presume to wonder about your choice. The preceding was intended as a completely neutral statement. I know I think myself into corners, or in circles. I acknowledge and respect your right or need to send opposite waveforms--I guess that sounds really fucked up, but so am I. Thinking I have insight into the workings of certain things makes me paranoid and hypersensitive (and grandiose and delusional, probably)

    Too crazy for this world, but not enough for the next

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  • either way, the result is the same

    by artemisagrotera on June 16, 2012
    you have demonstrated that you can mess with my head, either with positive or negative outcomes, and I am willingly, self-destructively complicit in this process, or perhaps invent it entirely myself and project it onto you.
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