Dead Flesh

La! It is I who is not dead!

And in fact may be more alive than in a long, long time though a lack of internet access and a disinterest in examining myself too closely has lead to the content of this blog, not stagnating, but receding as I found more and more of the content unbearable. And I expect to continue cutting away at the what I consider necrotic for the unforeseeable future.

In the August I decided to stop torturing myself and quit my hell (and it must have been self-torture, because why else would I have stayed there so long?), throwing myself on the mercy of the government for a couple of weeks while I recovered some desire to work and be productive. Then, as I still lack any focus, I signed up with a couple of agencies.

In the November I went back to work - fixing minor errors in line rentals at Opal Telecom. Nothing dazzling but a job is a job and that’s good enough for me. It paid and due to the tedious nature of the work every effort was made to make the staff happy. Which of course, they being staff, we’re never going to be, but there we go.

The night before starting what was in essence, the first proper job of my life I was so very nearly sick with worry. The only other jobs I have held have all in one way or any other made me sick in head and soul (and since I am the one with the control over those situations – what am I doing to myself and why?).
And while my mother maintains that I was “cocooned” (which brings to mind charming images of warmth and safety), the only real analogy I can draw is when sitting with one foot under you the circulation is cut and it goes then when you move it out and the blood returns, even though the relief is immense, it’s still dwarfed by an even greater pain.

But the circulation seems to be very nearly regulated and I am now in the offices of a major utilities supplier being their monkey until March. But it goes quickly – the people are friendly, the offices warm, and the work easy and light. And the lady who I am assisting is attempting to get me on track, not in a pushy way, just more in a utilising my abilities way (I have never written so many letters and memos) and then quizzing me about my willingness to go into careers using them. My reasons never sound very convincing to me, but if you have no desire for something, that’s enough.

Either way, C has informed me of the changes in me (he takes great delight in attempting to regulate my life. And since he has nothing to gain from it I do actually consider his words. Secretly though, and I would never let him know that), I have lost the anxious sense of doom that continually followed behind me like a lonely little rain cloud and have begun writing again, and sketching, and actually practising my guitars again. I’m not so anxious around people, I listen to music (not just have it turned on as a background distraction) and watch movies (rather than letting them tune me out for a little while) and think I may be starting to plan things again.

And all of this is very nice, but I approach it with caution. I’ve felt this way before, and very often, it’s turned out that I’ve been tilting at windmills.

You remind me of
the times when I was happy
but it is a lie

Secretly I will
pin my hopes on you to crush
ignorant and quick

It is my nature
to bleed and blame another
when I hold the blade

Q: I am interested in so many things, and I have a terrible fear because my mother keeps telling me that I'm just going to be exploring the rest of my life and never get anything done. But I find it really hard to set my ways and say, "Well, do I want to do this, or should I try to exploit that, or should I escape and completely do one thing?"

A. Nin: One word I would banish from the dictionary is "escape." Just banish that and you'll be fine. Because that word has been misused regarding anybody who wanted to move away from a certain spot and wanted to grow. He was an escapist. You know if you forget that word you will have a much easier time. Also you're in the prime, the beginning of your life; you should experiment with everything, try everything.... We are taught all these dichotomies, and I only learned later that they could work in harmony. We have created false dichotomies; we create false ambivalences, and very painful one's sometimes -the feeling that we have to choose. But I think at one point we finally realize, sometimes subconsciously, whether or not we are really fitted for what we try and if it's what we want to do.

You have a right to experiment with your life. You will make mistakes. And they are right too. No, I think there was too rigid a pattern. You came out of an education and are supposed to know your vocation. Your vocation is fixed, and maybe ten years later you find you are not a teacher anymore or you're not a painter anymore. It may happen. It has happened. I mean Gauguin decided at a certain point he wasn't a banker anymore; he was a painter. And so he walked away from banking. I think we have a right to change course. But society is the one that keeps demanding that we fit in and not disturb things. They would like you to fit in right away so that things work now.

-"A woman speaks: the lectures, seminars, and interviews of Anaïs Nin"

la

“Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds. So sad that we will never touch. How it hurts me to know that I will never be able to give you everything I have."”

-Henry Rollins

no fear? no pride more like.

Aaaaaanyway. Today I went to the gym. I know. The sky has not been torn assunder and the damned are not crawling out of the sewers...
Not properly to the gym of course, mainly an induction( but am going tomorrow after work, so if you see any of those signs please take the correct safety measures - ice cream, soda, cheeseburger gluts ect.)

Because my friend who likes to bring drama to my life decided to mess up the dog walking arrangements I ended up leaving for the gym at 4 (late) with a garlic sausage sammich in my mouth. I know you're not meant to go to the gym after eating, but I think it beats going to the gym after not eating at all that day. Obviously, we have the start I meant to carry on. Great.

Of course, the moment I stepped though the doors into the shiny bright land of glass walls and mirrors my knickers immediately tried to hide up in my ass. The one spot that was actually solida wall where I could launch a rescue mission was situated right at the front, with all the machines and joggers and rowers ect. facing towards it. Not happening. Not fun.

The guy who gave the induction was a stringy little hybrid of Gareth Gates and a hedgehog. He liked my sister. A lot. I think she's going to be standing with her back to the wall any time he's around really. He showed us the elliptical trainer, treadmill and some other machines for working our fat asses.
Nothing for our upper body, no weights. Which sucks because the weights are what I've joined for. I'm going to give it a couple of weeks to get into the swing and stop feeling so self-conscious but after that I'm heading behind the frosted glass of the free-weight room. ~drools~

Seriously, I love lifting heavy stuff. It's some crazy little fetish I have.
HULK SMASH and all that...

We were also shown something called a Vibrotone. It's a machine that shakes you at a vast number per second to loosen you up. You stand on the plate at the base, assuming the squat position and hope that no one is watching you.

Or you put it on the massage setting, sit down in front of it and put your calves up on the plate.

Or if you're me, put your calves up on the plate, turn it on, realise how close your arse is to it (I have 3 foot of leg maybe. This is much less when bent. I think I have 25 inches of lower leg) try to get some distance from said plate for proprieties sake and have every dirty joke and vibrator advert you've ever seen launch a mad dash for the front of your mind. Try to keep your face as neutral as possible.
Ignore hedgehog boy commenting that "you look like you're enjoying yourself" and sister commenting that I look like the dog when it's getting its arse scratched.

I LOOK PAINED. OK.

I declined at first, I really did. I looked at my sister complaining (she has more leg than I and much less filth clogging her brain) and saw exactly how my turn on it would play out...

Then we played on some machines for twenty minutes and came home for sunday dinner. Chicken, brocolli, cauliflower, cabbage, roast potatoes with gravy and an eves tart. Yum.

And then I went to bed for an hour. It was blissful.

Cologne

So seriously, the past three days have been the days of hot men. From the absolutely bendovable business man on our flight, we were just surrounded by hot men pretty much each time we ventured out of the hotel. (Reccommendation - The Hotel Hassel Coelner Hoff. £45 per head b&b for 2 nights off season. Nice clean rooms and awesome food.) Whether this is specific to Germany or just Cologne, I don't know but I need to find out.

The Christmas Markets were suitably cheesy and we didn't really buy a great deal, the bits we got were great though and it was nice to have a bit of bonding time with the females of my family. (Mum, sister, aunt, cousin.) I know I'm not particularly closest to my family but we did a lot of laughing so that was great. In a somewhat non-scientific experiment I found that it takes just 12ml of red wine to make me woozy and then go to bed fully dressed. Everyone else managed a litre but didn't manage to escape the hangovers.

And yesterday we spent the morning wandering the Lindt Chocolate Museum. No pictures because it's honestly not that exciting (unlike the gift shop!) but it does smell wonderful.

Some poorly taken pictures. David Bailey I am not.

Yes i am 12. I also have a picture on my point and shoot of a sign saying "Ausfart". I'm not proud...

What in the world happens to make you go "I'm so good at standing still, the whole world must see! And then give me money. Maybe I'll paint myself gold." If you said coming off your anti-psychotics, you're probably right.

A church near the hotel what we were staying at. It's much pinker in rl.

Some bad pictures of the Dom- Cologne Cathedral. This building is just absolutely fucking immense. When we went inside I made the mistake of looking up at the ceiling and almost lost my bratworst. :(