The Vent/Ranting Thread

[Squittle]

Tell me its normal to shoot up music like heroin in a meager attempt to unclench my sweaty hands from my desk, some sort of musical therapy that I'm trying to let wash over me, trying to open the gates of my mind to it so that some kind of meditative relaxation fills me and I can stop tearing at papers, scratching the wood of my desk, burying my head into walls and pillows and carpet.

I don't know when it started. Maybe its been progressing over time, that feeling of... craving, of wanting, excitement, pressure. Even now, this dark concoction of... hold up, song change... ok, that's better. Wait, could I deal with the Killing Moon? No, too dark, and it relates back to...

Just as a tangent, I'd love to explain to you every niche of emotion and the specifics of exactly what I'm talking about, to tell you exactly why I barely ever dare to play The Killing Moon and exactly what songs I refuse to pretend like will bring me succor now, and I'd love to pour my soul out on paper in some way that couldn't be recorded, but that's not how its... I feel better, I guess, broadcasting this ambiguous cover of my problems, this light narrative, just specific enough to help me bear the tension of this "problem" that I'm having, and just vague enough so that no one actually can identify what I'm talking about.

It felt good to get that off my chest (as though it was actually important). That said, I'm trying to find the perfect musical balance of "dark" sad (as opposed to "light" sad songs like Music for a Nurse), relaxing and slow tempo, and soothing melody that can bring me some succor, some peace in my time of need. Every time I think I've found it, it slips away and I realize that I'm confusing the stereotypical, light, happy aspects of this... thing, and its darker, ugly side.

He called me. God damn it, he called me and I missed it. That was my one chance at succor, oh dear God, dear Diary, that was my one opportunity to find some peace, some understanding during this whirlwind of sin and virtue and change. I've never even met him, and still I make all these judgments and assumptions, that he'd be able to help...

There it is. That's the song. *Sigh* Yes, I hate virtual sighs too, but that's what it feels like now. The tension in my back is lifting, the chair is no longer creaking with my furious pressing, my head is no longer buried in my hands, I'm no longer in a cluster headache of emotion and insanity. I wouldn't say I've found peace, far from it, but its better than nothing. At least now my heart doesn't want to break out of my rib cage with its furious pounding and my legs aren't kicking furiously at the wall, shaking pictures. Is that what its like? The pain of isolation? Tell me that's not what its like. No, no, this was just a passing phase, a phrase of uncertainty and loneliness that I got caught up in.

Ooh, a better song. If I put "Relaxed breath, leans back in chair with relief" in asterisks, would you believe me? No? Didn't think so. But hey, its true. I mean, maybe for tonight I can find sleep, just eight hours of peace and presence on this earth instead of buried into myself like an ostrich-emu-long-necked-fucker in the sand. Maybe tonight I won't be kept up by fantasies of opportunity and need.

I know it won't work. IT being one of the many things that I'm pulling out of my oily chest and pouring into vials in this post. Its just for the sake of ambiguity, since I fear really anyone knowing the true details of my situation. I know that it wouldn't be "true", if you will, it wouldn't be real enough. But its a start. Not "practice" per se, but... now I'm getting too specific, and every reference sounds like vague, barely recognizable innuendo.

Ok, its gone now. Whatever monster contaminated my body, possessed me... well, no that's a lie. Its not gone, just its effects. I'm having my little relapse before it comes back and stabs from the inside out again. Should I take advantage of it and sleep, or stay up trembling, sorting things out in my head? Neither options appeal.

I guess I'll take the lesser of two evils and go to sleep. A short escape from the world, full of shady men and judgment and screams, just an aesthetically dead tunnel out of this world, though so peaceful in retrospect. I only wish I were awake to enjoy it.

Okay, that feels better. Now I'm done.