| (no subject) |
[Dec. 21st, 2005|12:16 am] |
What does karma mean to me?
Uh.
Well, what doesn't karma mean? It's the weight on a person's soul. A burden, a debt. All the you can't leave behind to quote U2. It effects all aspects of your life: occupation, relationships, health, enjoyment, happiness.
I have to say that sometimes it feels like I must have done something really shitty in a past life. I guess there's probably a way of fixing that in my current one although mostly my magic's been used to help myself and those in the immeadiate area. I'd thought about being more productive but I'm not up to doing that alone and my ability to make friends is nonexistent.
I am careful to do the right thing as often as I can. To heal or aid. To do no harm. To hope my actions effect everything positively not just for the sake of myself although of course I hope for it to improve my life. Enrich it if nothing else.
But karma also can't be seen as simply crossing out bad things by doing good. It's not simply doing X number of good things to counterweigh the bad things you may or may not remember doing. Over time I have to figure out why I do certain things and why other actions are not alternatives or solutions.
I have a hard time getting over just about anything so I imagine I have quite a ridiculous amount of time left of debts to repay and lessons to learn. But that is also important. Afterall, why grow at all if you're not going to change?
- Daniel |
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| From Alisha |
[Dec. 14th, 2005|10:38 pm] |
You will be smothered under a rug. You're a little
anti-social, and may want to start gaining new
social skills by making prank phone calls.
What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?
brought to you by Quizilla
...It's so true. I don't know whether I'm amused or depressed by this, but it's very true. |
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| catching up... |
[Dec. 6th, 2005|05:15 pm] |
Things I meant to say:
The thing about regrets is you can have them and in abundance. There are always words we don't say and words we mean to say. Sometimes they are one and the same. I said plenty of "I forgive you"s and plenty of "I love you"s. Doubtlessly I could have said them more.
What I wish I had said more often was "Stay." Or "I need you." That would have been greatly of more use to me than assigning blame.
Write a letter to yourself as a child:
Daniel -
This letter won't help you much but I want you to know it won't all be so bad. It wasn't all bad. You aren't worthless even though you won't believe me.
Chances are your father hasn't left yet. Love him. It's what you're doing to do and I wouldn't want you not to.
A good deal of time will pass before you begin to learn to forgive yourself and others. Try to remember that the darkness can be as good a place as any to seek solace. You'll learn to be stronger although it will take much more time than you can imagine.
Love will be harder to maintain although it will easily be what you want the most. Seek it and look for it regardless. |
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| Write about losing control? |
[Nov. 6th, 2005|11:51 pm] |
Daniel doesn't even know what to think anymore. He's done this to other people and it's happened to him before. He just wishes he didn't think it was happening. He just wished it wasn't going to happen. He just hoped it wasn't going to happen because he couldn't imagine responding to the thing he dreaded without it involving rather gross and lengthy periods of illness and anxiety.
Nothing seemed very certain which was why he'd abandoned his Jane Austen and was looking over the meaning of flowers as a means of remaining calm. Meaning was constant for flowers if not for people. If not for relationships. He thinks about Lu's comment about holly and oak and skips over those sections.
He was alone but it might not be permanent. He felt guilty for nearly losing it in front of Alisha not to mention after her amazing performance.
Needless to say, it seemed very clear that if he considered the last time he lost control he'd definitely lose what precious little he had remaining. And the saltines he'd forced himself to eat. |
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| brief lives |
[Oct. 30th, 2005|05:20 pm] |
[after this]
It doesn't hit him that something has happened until he's looking at flowers of all things.
And then he's not sure how to deal with what he senses has happened except to decide he may never like azaleas again.
He coldly eyes the florist as she hands him the sunflowers he'd actually come in for and he leaves silently places a crumpled bill in her palm that could be an American 20 or could be a pound. Whatever magic provided.
Something dramatic should happen now. Rain. Tears. Something extreme requires wetness but everything seems strangely tinted with red.
He did and does love Soren but he's fairly certain it never helped. And that makes it all the worse. Even if Soren does come back. Sam. Sorcerer. Nameless immortal. It more than likely won't be to Daniel. That hurts badly but not as much as the notion of Soren being dead.
I'm sorry.
He wipes at his face once, twice, three times.
He can't go home. He can't go and read and pretend this hasn't happened even if he wanted to. No song exists in the right key for how he feels.
Daniel stares at the sidewalk for half a minute before teleporting himself to Alisha's. He owes her flowers and he doesn't want to be alone. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 28th, 2005|09:21 pm] |
What do you think when you look in the mirror?
You'd think I'd have more common sense to go along with my pleasant exterior.
It's a shame I don't have more men or women lusting after me. Gods, I'm shallow.
In spite of myself I have grown in some ways. I might be becoming the man I'd like to be.
If I didn't look so much like my father I wouldn't avoid mirrors so much.
Maybe I should get a tattoo. But what would I get one of?
I've been getting more sleep and therefore look less like a raccoon albeit a vaguely attractive one.
I probably should eat more.
I have no good excuse for being such a prick to people. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 23rd, 2005|10:57 pm] |
Talk about something you did that made you feel ashamed of yourself afterwards.
There's many things I could cite as examples of my particular bad decisions that have led to shame.
Um. Probably just the way I seem to end or run away from relationships. I either change my mind, panic when I get to close to someone, or decide nothing will work as I might as well just give up. I think I might as well get out before it gets ten times worse.
What really ends up happening is two seconds afterwards, I regret what happened and feel like a complete idiot. I can't even imagine how many potentially successful relationships I've thrown away out of cowardice or uncertainty. Certainly that's nothing to be proud of.
(115 words)
OOC: Things have been nuts as usual. Mostly been sick and there's been work stress. I'll try to be around more and if you need me around for whatever reason, just prod me. I'll respond. |
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| Damn. And TM Response. |
[Sep. 26th, 2005|11:33 pm] |
Completely forgot about my birthday. Ah well. I seem to do that. Also mun seems to be unfocused on days/weeks when she works a lot.
My apologies for being absent. If I'm truly needed, I will be around. I still feel I ought to be making things up to Lu, but I'm not sure how to go about doing that.
Most people wish that I...
Would pay more attention. Would be more consistent. Would be more focused. Would be more confident. Would open up and listen. Would stop running away and deal with issues. Would settle down. Would be content. Would be reliable. Would love less selfishly. Would stop failing. Would keep more promises.
Or I think that's probably what most people wish. I'm not sure. It's always hard to tell what most people think if you're not most people. |
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| TM Response |
[Sep. 21st, 2005|02:06 pm] |
If you could find out one single fact about every person you met, what fact would you want to know, and why?
What they need. So I'd have some idea of how to give it to them. Or whether they could be helped. Or whether I could be friends with them or not. |
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| TM Response |
[Sep. 13th, 2005|04:25 pm] |
Talk about a time you realized that someone close to you was not the person you thought you knew.
Oh gods no. I refuse. I couldn't really answer this anyway because I would just end feeling guilty because I'm sure I've been the sort of person who seemed a lot like one thing and ended up being like another. And it's all just too negative to think about. So, as thought-prokvoking as the question may be...no.
Although I guess I could just as easily say apply this to myself. Sometimes, more so before now than currently, I've been uncertain and struggling with deciding who I am. As much as the job was rewarding, I don't think I was an English teacher. As important as magic and the rituals involved in such powers has become to me, I don't know if that is who I am either. Or if those things plus magic and plus the yearning to have it mean something is the sum total of who I am.
As I said earlier, I'm sure I've disappointed a lot of people by not being who or whatever I was imagined to be. I guess we all accumulate the precious things and scraps that make us who we are like a crow gathering shiny bits of metal and fabric. Slowly and with little method or pattern to the madness. And in the end, whatever you're left holding is what makes up who you are. And you gather these things to you by living and experiencing. By doing the right things and hopefully not too many of the wrong things. And not worrying. But it's hard not to.
I guess this isn’t exactly the response that was asked for but it’ll have to do. |
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| [Locked to Soren and Family] |
[Sep. 2nd, 2005|05:30 pm] |
I'm not sure what it I'm supposed to say but if you want to speak to me... Do it. Or does it makes sense if I say flat out say that I want to talk to whoever will speak to me? I'm not sure how to approach most of you or find you or if I should even trouble you.
I am not upset with you, Michael. What you said was true and I'm sorry the conversation ended the way it did. I wasn't listening well though maybe it's just better we try again? That is, if you're willing.
Lu, I'm not sure why you think I hate you. I'm not upset with you. I was a little...I don't know. You do that whole glare thing very well and I do worry that if someone was going to actively come at with a sword, it would be you. But I don't really think you'd come at me with a sword. And I'm sorry if our last conversation didn't go well. I seem to be completely inept at interacting with anyone. But then I'm not like you. I'm mostly a coward and I tend to beat a hasty retreat into apathetic shrugs when people suggest things. I am sorry though. I know I did a lot to upset you. I'm just not sure what you want me to do.
( Read more... )
And at some point, Soren, um...can we talk? |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 1st, 2005|08:19 pm] |
Well, he hasn't played the guitar in a long time and getting up to the roof is easy. He stretches his legs and watches the sky before absently strumming at the instrument in his arms.
Alone. Hopeful. Sad.
Sort of what he wanted. Physical space allows for the same mentally. And he needs that. It's all sort of a clutter. It's only been a few days and already it's been ridiculous. Space also allows for openness. Meditation. Reflection.
Time. Measured out in coffee spoons. He's too young to be Prufrock.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
The thought at least amuses him as he's always liked that poem.
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”
The silence brings peace and no torment. Clear skies with stars. It's hard to believe that with so many stars in the sky, that anyone would feel utterly alone. But it's only for the moment so it doesn't hurt too badly.
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
Which leads to the ridiculous thought that maybe he should celebrate the disasterous week with a lobster dinner.
Alone. Hopeful. Sad.
It's to be expected. |
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| [locked from Soren and his family] and all i've said was just instead of coming back to you |
[Aug. 31st, 2005|04:08 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | restless | ] |
| [ | music |
| | "Coming back to you," Leonard Cohen | ] |
Well, it's not quite breaking up but I guess it's something like it. It's disappointing. It's not what I want.
But then what I want is a normal, good, sane relationship. I'm not sure I can get one if I'm not entirely sane though. I'm not sure I can get one if it requires me also putting up with other people. I want to come first and not just because others are preoccupied or I am there or I have been absent longer than other lovers. I want to come first because I'm the only one that matters. Or if only because I'm the only one there. I can't do polyamory. I wasn't built that way.
I've never really dated. I always sort of land in relationships like diving into the deep end of a swimming pool with too much baggage to stay afloat. I don't want baggage and I don't want other people's. I don't mind family but I want one with room for me in it.
I want to date. To have it be complicated and uncomplicated all at once.
It's not that I don't love him or that I don't want to love, but I need something more like security and less like floundering. I want something simple and good. I want to be the sort of person who gets to be loved simply and well. Wish me luck.
And the friends I'd like to see...I...don't feel like I ought to even approach them.
So isolation it is. I suppose I can keep pestering Mike and newer people I've met. For now. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 30th, 2005|12:09 pm] |
Coming back was probably a mistake, Daniel thinks as he digs around his basement in search of wine or something like it. Fumbling about in the dark as if he's not good enough for the light. Maybe he can brick himself up in penance for giving a shit about himself.
Not family. Not friends. Not even people he wants to be around. Not anymore. As if they'd never hurt him. As if they were all victims. And it's like drowning in black tar.
Well, fine then, a little voice tells him. They're all victims. You caused them pain. So what? You owe them nothing if they don't owe you anything. If they were family, they would have at least given you a chance.
They would have welcomed you back because family always has room for trust. Always room for one more. They offer you it only to reject you. Only to draw blood. None of them are your family.
And here you are trying to reach out and repair the damage. Only to be emotionally kicked in the teeth. So then too bad. They had their chance and now you're free of them.
But he doesn't feel free. He chokes and clears his throat.
Stop that.
He closes his eyes and leans against the wall, sinking down onto his haunches like a man in prison.
All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
He'll move towards something new and whatever good comes from what he used to belong to, then he'll embrace that too. He'll find new things and new people. He already has. He won't be this alone forever.
He clings to that idea with desperate hope as he gets back to his feet and switches on the basement light. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 28th, 2005|01:12 am] |
Well, there's a garden that needs work. Songs that need composing. Friendships that might need repairs as much as they can be.
However in the more immeadiate present, there are apples that need eating, trees with a more than ample suppy of shading, tea that needs drinking, and a pile of books begging to be read.
And if company should happen to find its way to Daniel's backyard, it wouldn't be rejected. |
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| There and back again. Sort of. |
[Aug. 26th, 2005|06:02 pm] |
He'd been sleeping endlessly with no need for much besides his own thoughts, compositions and silences. Due to lack of use and possibly lack of need. Or both. And while he slept, his house did too.
Everything seems dusty and in need of sorting out. He's not sure what's changed but whatever has, it's for the best. There's something like loneliness but the sort of loneliness that a person needs. Not the loneliness of before or the anxiousness. Daniel distracts himself with the touch and feel of piano keys and cobwebs. He feels older or perhaps simply more comfortable. Not a single bit wiser but he wasn't expecting wisdom. |
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