Current location:	Bedroom
Current mood:	contemplative
Current music:	Money Honey - State of Shock

A Sorta Faerie Tale...

(Excerpts from the six pages I filled in my written journal today, on the skytrain and on Commercial Drive)

*I both adore and despise transit.  The press of unfamiliar bodies, the reek of body odor, and the unwanted contact of their voices screeching thorugh my thoughts... it disgusts me.  Knowing that the most I will pay for my transportation is $136.00 in a month.  That I can get all the important places.  Yeah, I like that part.  There are days that I considor getting my license.  They are few and far between.  I can put my headphones in and read or write on transit.  I can nap although it's a little more hazardous... *

*Things seem to be looking up.  I found a great little Apple Macbook that beats the hell out of both of my computers.  The guy at Best Buy was great help.  There's this really hot girl working at a coffee shop on Commercial.  I'm on my way to see if she's there.  Yeah, I'm a stalker...*

*My ocean stills, the water tracing one last time along my feet before the whole world goes quiet.  I raise my face into that silence I know I will be alright.  I know that I can go this alone and things will work out.  The moment of silence ends and I gaze out as the water begins to stir again, lapping hungrily at the shore.  It begs me to join it, to go out to sea and become lost in it's depths.  But I am happy... happy.  It's a feeling I'd nearly forgotten.  But I am happy.  I am stressed and upset and depressed.  I am also happy, and that emotion floats above the rest, allows me to grasp it tight and float with it above the negativity into a new world where there is safety and contentment.  Where there is hope.  I clutch the hope close to my chest and allow it to sink into me and share its light.  I am free of my depression.  For now it is at bay and I look at my ocean and I smile...*

*I looked into the mirror a few weeks ago and realized how much I've changed.  I've lost alot of weight, gained age in my eyes.  I barely recognize the woman I am becoming.  This confident dyke is not the unhappy girl I was, but rather the product of her, the memory of years of pain and self torment.  The more she fades, the more that woman takes hold.  Childish fat and features have adjusted to match the inner knowledge and I no longer dread to look in the mirror because I now have the beauty so long sought after.  In truth, I always had it.  I was just to scared to see it, to know it.  I didn't want to believe it.  Now I see it, embrace it.  I will never be "model pretty".  I will also never be ugly.  I am beautiful in a strange unique way and I think that is the best way...*