Kat's Cherry Garden

sometimes i think i don't really have any friends...

(being "stabbed in the back" sucks, and so does being ditched, repeatedly)

I think I am going to find myself a whole new set of people to hang out with. And maybe acquire more boys.

This outrage is temporary. I'll experience it and let it pass over me. And by the time heads stop flying I will already be back to the sweet generous calm Kat everybody's used to.

I still miss Michael. I wish I could get a better picture of him so that I could paint his portrait.

So, one of my ex bf's is being an asshole to me on Facebook. This is nothing new, once in a while I get an ex or two who has nothing better to do that to insult me. It's stupid and immature. It shouldn't bother me.
It barely does, really. I mean, I've made mistakes and when you choose to date somebody there's always a risk that they're not the person you'd want to hang around with. Somehow, when I'm going on a date with somebody, Iapply different standards to people. Dates can easily turn out less than what I'm willing to tolerate. I keep telling myself that I should get a different set of standards. I'm working on it.
But why are people willing to be assholes to each other? THAT is what bothers me. Why can't people just let go. Why spread misery?
I can't understant why cruelty is so common. I'd prefer indifference.

I am changing the world around me, little by little. But sometimes things get me down, and I don't know whether my so-called mission is worth all the effort.

Now I'm done ranting. This means when I go to bed, my head will be a little more empty and I can concentrate on making tomorrow a day worth living.

It's been 3 years now, yet I still dream of him. And in that other, dream, life, I still yearn for some romance.
I was the one who left. I was the one who made the decision that things could not continue the way they were.
Yet he keeps haunting me.
I've mourned the loss enough already. I have another life now, not like then.
Still, for several moments prior to getting up I feel that old pain.

I regret nothing.

It's been 2 days now, like my Ulysses said: we're past the halfway point. I crave his presence; even if we're in different rooms each doing his own thing, it still beats being alone in a somewhat empty house (do cats count?). I was going to go Downtown to hang out with Stevenator, but I feel kind of "blah" about it. Besides, I need to clean up this place before J. is back (at least bring it down to the level of mess we had before he left).
I feel a bit down right now, which comes as no surprise, really. I'd be more worried if I felt great :) (I do feel like a "great", though, as in "The Great Procrastinatior Kat").
Maybe I'll nap or something and forget about everything for a short while. Or maybe I should just spend the rest of the day drawing, with my phone off. I need to come up with something that will sustain me in good spirits till after the Back-to-School party @ PMD.

 

I've been neglecting this journal for ages, ever since Michael died updating it hasn't been the same. So now I've graduated, got married and today I picked up a kitten bringing the total of our household cats up to three. Three cats is a lot, but I can handle it, because my heart has room enough for plenty.
I need a job, soon. I miss having my own money to spend. Being a "kept woman" is flattering to some degree, but it's no way to live.
I'm doing much better now. I don't feel like my lifespan needs to be cut short artificially, not yet anyway. I am loved and well-cared for, and I can now take better care of myself. What a great way to live: knowing that the world outside my head doesn't have to be hostile and the air I breathe is no longer poison (on that note, i should work on quitting smoking soon).
Hopefully I'll get back into the habit of keeping a journal as there are still some conclusions that need arriving at.

I am free now from something that bothered me for several years, I do not want a do-over, it's behind me and I can go on living without this burden.

(have to go have sex now)

Today I wrote my last undergraduate exam (it was French, it was hard, but I'm finally done!) and I'm leaving for Ottawa on Sunday. I'm really sleepy and tired right now (probably 'cause of that celebratory beer), but otherwise I'm okay. J left for Ottawa today, I'll follow him on Sunday. I am slightly more neurotic than I'd like, but I can afford that. I'm going to cuddle with Shpion now and try to relax, daydream, maybe.

You've been gone too long
And in this melancholy night
I no longer long
for your presence.

The first one was fifty, the next - fifty-seven
One - broken, the other - dead,
One sunken in silence,
The other - in violence
And both buried deep in my head.

Trapped like dried flowers
Between yellow pages
Of books I intended to read
They come to visit
Crazy - or is it
Simply my greed?

Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to have survived to this age relatively intact, and to be growing rather than wilting and dying.
I'm really happy with my two cats, my J, my new home. I would never have imagined things could go this well.
I wish I didn't have to lose focus and feel cold and lost again. But such is my cross, and I'll carry it until....

I've had my fill of her, and the next time she calls "Fuck off" might as well be my answer. Sometimes I'm too nice. If I were more assertive or less fragile, I wouldn't have to deal with this right now. Oh  well. At least school-wise I'm close to where I need to be. And the cats are always there to entertain me with their antics. And I'm still in love (unbelievable, I thought spending time with the object of affection cures that eventually). Also, I'm going to have dinner soon. Avec n'importe quoi.
And that way she might as well be dead.

...(so that those of us left behing could have some closure and move on)

I still miss you, Princess Mischa.

I don't know how much longer I can last under all this pressure. In fact, I almost wish I had a breakdown, so that I can stop worrying about when I'm finally going to explode.
All this noise is driving me crazy, and...well, I don't know if I care anymore. Maybe it will even please some people to see a broken, vulnerable Kat.

Maybe I'll punch somebody in the face today. That way, at least, I'd go out with a bit of a bang.
Enough of this,
Kat out.

I miss you so much. You've died so suddenly, and I hope it didn't hurt or feel too scary.  I wish I did start writig that article with you, so that we could spend a bit more time together, even if you got frustrated with me for not quite giving you what you want. I trusted you more than I trusted most of my friends and family members. I loved you, and I still do. You helped me out a lot last winter, and, frankly, if it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't have survived that breakdown as intact (or at all). I am coming to your memorial service, although I have no idea how to behave there. I'm sure you would have loved it if I wore something completely outrageous, and read an Emily Dickinson poem, or something, but... I don't know you like some other people do (and they don't know you like I do), and I want to appear respectful, 'cause you died and can't kick my ass, and they're still alive and the can kick me out or call an ambulance on me or something.
I wish I had a way of knowing whether you've arrived where you were hoping to arrive. Whether it's cozy, and warm, and dark, and empty, just like you said you wanted. And whether you're still pissed at me. I hope you aren't. I definitely am not pissed at you, although I was for a bit.
Like I've already said (and thought a million times) - I MISS YOU.

Love,
Prince Vlad (a.k.a. Evil Kat)

I'll squeeze my mouth shut and clench my fists, and say nothing, for now. I doubt it's personal, what happening right now. But I can't help feeling angry.
Please tell me everything will be back to normal tomorrow.

I am so obviously obsessing about my thesis, but I can't make myself stop. I should slowly back away from the computer and do other stuff that's just as important and needs to be done.
Even the cats and their epic battles fail to distract me for longer than a few seconds at a time.
Tonight might be a good night to take one of those super-powerful sleeping pills (J calls them his "little blue pills". It's funny on more levels than I'd feel comfortable explaining)

seeing your face in my mind's eye,
contorted with pain, glowing with bliss
for a second transported me back in time and made me imagine how things
that never came to be could have transpired

and then I stared the cat in the eye
and thought of how tigers are stuck with their stripes
shook my hand, bit my lip, and ended up here
knowing for certain I what's gone is gone
now that I've found my proper home.

Noticed that a month ago I came to Livejournal to say pretty much the exact same thing as today. It's lind of funny, and kind of sad. I should curl up with one of my cats and complain to them, like I used to when Tisha was still alive.

I'm tired of people. It's like they all want a little piece of me, and soon there won't be too much left on my skinny frame (metaphorically mostly). I should be more careful. I've told myself this on numerous occasions, but it doesn't seem to sink in. 
One day I'll grow some (more) balls and build a sturdy fence around my soul. Unless, of course, I want to be eaten. Maybe I still haven't stopped hating myself. Maybe the new and improved Kat is just a front. I wnat to believe otherwise, of course, but who am I to judge.

On a happier note, I've been working pretty hard lately and a lot of stuff got done.