MOOP!

I've been fighting off a sense of gloom these past few days, not aided by the fact that I keep being invited to fun stuff on the days where I am working. It really *really* sucks having to work during the day of most weekends. Were it not for that, I would be going to the zoo with a whole heap of the Balticon kids (Sonya, Celes, Aaron, Ian, ee!) and going to Busch Gardens on Saturday with Jannyblue.

*shakes fist at the jo...ooo, a new shiny paychecque!*

~Sor
MOOP!

Four and a half years ago, I was engaging in a mindless little elljay survey "What have you done" sort of life experience thing.

One of the items was "Seen Tori Amos perform live". I was fifteen. I was not especially pop culture savvy. I responded with "Who?"

A few days later, ShadowKevin wrote a post about picking battles, which touched on my offhand answer. He had chosen not to fight that fight, figuring it was ridiculous to force Highly Important Music on the snarky fifteen year old. What he essentially said (either there or in other posts) was that you couldn't force Tori on people. She had to be Found.

He said some other stuff, but what I took away from all of it was that Tori Amos had music that was strong and sad and beautiful and full of cope, and eventually, I would be at a point in my life where I would need her, and at that point I would go find her.

I've held that in the back of my mind for the last four and a half years. I've figured out who exactly Tori is, and what she's for, and yes, I've managed to fall just a little bit in love with her -after I read her introduction to the Sandman comic "Death: The High Cost of Living".

But I've never heard her music. I've never made that effort to Find her, perhaps because I've never needed to Find her. It's not that I've never felt sad and scared and empty and lone, or that I've never needed music to protect me when I'm in that zone. It's just that, I think, I've fond my own safety nets for when that happens.

I've nothing against Tori. I'd be perfectly happy to put her in my "Sad Girls with Pretty Voices" playlist, which is pretty much what I need when I'm in that bad place. But when I cry, when I truly need the music to protect me, I'm first gonna turn to the old protections, the old comforts, those made strong by a year or more of already spilled tears. I've never Needed Tori, because at all those points where I really would, I had someone else to catch me.

---

She didn't play "The Tower"
And she didn't play "Lullaby for a Stormy Night"

But she did play "Harbor", which was my first, and she did play "City Hall", which makes me cry with the beauty and the sadness of it all, and she did play "Gravity" and she did play lots of new and beautiful songs and wrapped me up in her music and her voice. And so, for a few hours, in the real world (and not just in my head) I was safe.

I saw Vienna Teng yesterday last the other week. Vienna, who has held me through tearstorms and panic attacks, who has let me dance my way back into stability, who's words have wrapped themselves 'round my arms and through my mind. Vienna, who above and beyond anything else she makes me feel, makes me feel incredibly perfectly safe,

Vienna Teng who is my Tori Amos.

---

And who knows. Maybe there's still time for my brain to break in just the right fashion so that Tori is the only thing I need. I wouldn't mind that. And maybe I'll just find her anyways, where I don't need her at all but am perfectly happy to add her songs to my collection. In the meantime, when I'm broken, and need my music to heal me...I have my resources.

I have Vienna. And that may be all I need.

~Sor
MOOP!

( Cut for emo and swearing. )

BehindTheWalls

PostScript: I also really really hate whatever livejournal did so you automatically get a space after the comma when writing tags (ie, you hit comma and it shows up as ", " instead of just ","

See, I'm smart enough to hit space after hitting a comma. Please fix it so I don't keep frigging doublespacing after every goddamn tag. Thanks.

Right then. Random flist spam removed.

I'm having an alright week, although today hasn't been steller.

Damnit. I had something to post, but that was before I realized it's time to go to tutoring. Ta, kids.

~Sor
MOOP!

Confidentials:
1) Of course I'll forgive you. But I think I have to look at you in a different light right now.
2) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh. But sometimes you need a shoulder to cry on, and I hate to say it kid, but you're just not it. Al says hullo, BTW.
3) ...fuck.

...Shit.

Crying sucks. *pouts* I hate this.

And no, I don't need to talk about it. Or rather, I do, and I have. So yes.

~Sor
MOOP!

And now, right before I turn off comments, and make this post avaliable to teh world, I'm forced to think about myself.
Never a pleasent task that is.
Oddly, I'm not thinking of that which is making me cry right now. I'm thinking of attention whoring, and wanting to be the star. Which really does happen to me a lot.

Take this post for instance. I don't want hugs, or sympathy, or lendings of ears. I'm specifically turning off comments so I don't have to deal with anyone saying anything that would just upset me. So why am I even posting this?

Logically, it's for the attention. Yet that attention which I need, I have been given in the form of conversations with those more intelligent then myself. I don't *want* attention from the rest of you, for one reason or another, mostly because I don't know you well enough, or I don't want you to know me that well.

And for all of those going "Shock and Awe! Kat doesn't trust me!!" don't feel bad. I don't trust a good 96% or so of the people I know. Not with myself, or my thoughts and feelings and emotions. Not with what lies Behind the Walls.

And yes, all of the people who I do tend to let further behind the walls ARE people I know online. This doesn't mean I don't like the rest of you well enough, I do, and I highly enjoy spending time with the most of you. But somehow, having that extra level of removal from the version of my world that exists in this reality, makes it easier for me to let you see me.

Perhaps this is because, even though I intend to meet all three of the people I've been confiding/ranting/bitching to, there is still at least some level of anonymity.

...Holy shit, I just spelled that right on the first try. Wow.

Right, right, back to what I was saying.

I don't know. I just really don't know. I'm a very private person, while I gladly (and ocassionally loudly) share my thoughts and ideas, I keep my feelings and emotions very hidden. I also tend to keep issues I'm having to myself, only asking for advice when I come to a total loss.

Could this be pride? It may be --it fit's the descriptions. I could very well be too prideful to ask for help, and that, paired with my own cynicsism could be a large part of why I tend not to trust people.

But what were we talking about at the start? Attention-whoring? Somewhere in my personal writings, there exists a sequence of words that, I believe reads, "I am an attention whore with stage fright." It is always a frustrating thing when I look back on myself and find that I'm being incredibly fucking RIGHT, and fitting whatever situation perfectly. I am, in fact an attention whore, I have known this for some time, and I try to realize when I'm being stupid for attention, which is never a good thing. And, although I don't believe stage fright is quite the right word at all, I DO avoid the spotlight. I hate being fawned over, which makes crying an absolute nightmare. Because people are good, and nice, and friendly, and because I have been good and nice and friendly to them, they feel obligated to come over and crowd around me and ask if I want to talk (which I generally don't) and if I'm alright (Which I'm sure as hell not, but I'm not going to tell you that). And really, when I get to the point where I'm crying, I reeeeeeeeeally don't want you to pay any attention whatsoever to me. I want you to ignore me, and do what you're doing, and let me find my happy spot and just melt back into the real world at my own sweet pace.

Did I ever tell you folk about the breakdown I had back in...October? It's what sparked a lot of things, including my getting therepy, and sequentially, my getting ADD testing and diagnosed with ADHD. It was...not a good thing. I was re-reading things I wrote while I was having it, and it is...scary. It's scary to remember the fact that, I really was caught in a thought-stream, and had NO FUCKING WAY OUT. The thoughts really were just too fast and too intense, and there was nothing I could cling to to pull myself out.

My saving grace with that one was that it was during a test. Yes, this did meant that I really only finished half of the timed essay, and had to make up the rest later, but it meant I *couldn't* have people fawning over me crazily. And I think that if I *had* had that, I would have snapped, and gone into full bitch mode, and possibly said some things that I would very much regret.

That might be part of the problem with my life. I get mad about as easily as anyone else, I figure, but unlike a lot of people, I really don't have any rational way to release my anger. Yes, I can try and play DDR if I'm at home (although Nik tends to invade) and I can always write and write and write, but in all truth, I don't think the latter really helps very much. It does less to clear the anger, and more to link it to everything else, like my mind links everything, and shut the anger away until the next time I need it. But I don't punch things, I don't scream, Alis won't let me bite my tongue or dig my nails into my palms or scratch up my arms (which were all things I used to do on a fairly regular basis until she came along...and theres a whole stream by itself) so I can't get rid of it through self-inflicted pain, and I always wind up feeling far too guilty to take it out on other people. So generally, when the emotions get to be too much, I wind up crying, writing in a notebook, or both.

And neither activity really condones having a lot of people standing around staring at me with worried looks on their faces and asking if I'm alright.

Also, I noted the other day that when I'm in an especially people-hating sour mood, I go very quiet. This is primarily to keep myself from yelling at people, and I figured it out by watching a friend, who was bitchy and WAS yelling at people. So really, if I go quiet on you and detach myself from the group, I probably really would prefer to be left alone.

*laughs bitterly* My own silly memories. Like bowling. To date, Eric is STILL the only person who has ever managed to figure out the above without my telling them. He's a good lad.

*thinks*

This turned out rather further then I suspected. I meant to discuss attention-whorism, and figure out what I could possibly gain by posting my above post. I still don't know, other then the fact that I HAVE gained a lovely bit of SoC (Stream of Conciousness)

It's odd, thinking about it. When it comes to writing, I think of myself as a fairly good fiction/fantasy writer. But when I write SoC, I find myself IMMENSELY more eloquent. I prefer the subject matter, perhaps? Or maybe I just write best when I really am in such a quiet mood. If life tells me right, I do recieve more, or better compliments on my SoC peices then my stories.

Somehow, that depresses me a little. Perhaps because this is never how I've seen myself when I've said I wanted to be a writer?

Another thing I've figured out, which I don't remember if I ever posted here, is a bit of mathmatical ratio type stuff. I figure that about 80 or so percent of my time, I am happy, or at the very least, indifferent on the positive side of the mood spectrum. I also figure that, out of all my emotional intensity, about 75 percent or so of it comes from or out of that 20 percent of the time where I'm *not* happy. Do negitive emotions just mean more, or do they just stick better? And I know I can get happiness highs, I've done it before, but it's much harder to remember them, and how they feel when I'm feeling negitive then it is to remember the low's I've hit when I'm feeling positive. Do I really just hate myself?

I feel so disjointed. No doubt that if I went back and actually read this peice, I would agree with the fact that I *am* being disjointed, and that I'm very much letting myself swirl about the thought-stream. Controlled though. I try to avoid letting myself be in it uncontrolled, the results are rarely pretty.

*sigh* I have to go babysit. In all truth, I only may or may not actually be around on AIM, and if I am,I only may or may not want to talk. So ta.

...And I turned comments back on. The first few lines though, the first post...that is not to be commented on. Alright?

~Sorcyress
MOOP!