Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers
cydniey

i can't make it come

i'm struggling with patience and tolerance right now. a friend is proving to be completely unreliable and i am losing the battle of calm. i give him some quarter because he is struggling with something inside that i can't reach or fix. but he keeps making promises he doesn't keep.

i finished "A Confederate General from Big Sur" today. one down, three novels to go. i only read when i'm in the bath because i read so voraciously that i will run out of books.

so music it is. i feel like i slept all day, but i didn't. i didn't do much of anything, actually. the usual weekend. i did do some light cleaning and made myself food.

doc took a vacation day and stayed home with me tonight. he's asleep right now, as i am supposed to be. but i can't sleep. i guess i could beat myself with a seroquel and pass out for 6 hours, but i really don't want to do that. i want to be awake when doc wakes up. we're being close friends in this era and . . . i want to relish it. i'm still stinging from the two years of love withdrawal.

i am so over this humidity. we did get some rain today. it rained last night through this morning. it was nice. the cats went out and played in it. but it didn't break the humidity. and they are calling for the same conditions over the next week. what the fuck happened? did someone move me back east while i was asleep? i feel like i'm in goddamned florida. without the fun of the swamps to dump bodies in.

we've been working with Major to get him to be less afraid of, and eventually like, doc. at first i would hold him on my lap and doc would pet him and talk to him. then, i would hold him and calm him down and then take him and sit next to doc. now he will let doc take him from me when i'm holding him, and he will sit with doc for a while. then he seems to realize what's going on and takes off. he making strides, though. Simon is to the point where he will come to doc when he calls him, and he will let doc pick him up. doc has won his heart with food. Major isn't into treats or people food, so he's harder to bribe. we've got to break down his defenses another way.

bagira is the odd man out. it was only a few days after bagira came to live here when jack ran away and somewhere deep, doc blames bagira. bagira comes to me for love about once every three days. and when he does, he's very insistent about it. most of the time he just sleeps. he is completely well behaved. never gets into trouble. he's a great cat. not much of a personality. very cat like. he didn't like the people he lived with before and spent most of his time outside. since he's been here, he's been out three times. once to chase jack away, and twice just to play. that's it. he doesn't hunt, doesn't stalk the door looking for an opportunity to get out, like Vader does.

our biggest problem is that Chewy won't shit in the back yard for some reason. so he keeps having accidents in the back room. today he's not getting punished because i didn't walk him because of the rain. by the time the rain stopped, it was too hot to go for a walk. my biggest fear with him is that i'll take him out while it's too hot and pass out while i have him and something happens to him. i'm not so concerned about myself laying in the street, but i couldn't handle it if something happened to my precious Chewy. i also don't like taking him out during the heat of the day because the pavement burns his tender little feet. he has no callouses on his paw pads. and i don't want to get him puppy slippers. i don't think he'd put up with them. he's curled up with doc. two and a half hours and i'll take him for a walk. before sunup, but not so much the middle of the night. it's the suburbs, sure, but wandering tweakers keep it from being completely safe at night. and i carry a knife, but that doesn't mean i want to have to use it.

i was so into myself this morning. taking pictures and playing with the cams. then i saw a picture on the cam of me laughing at doc with my mouth gaping open showing my missing teeth and i got horrified and shut the cam down. nice lesson in humility.

"i am the drug that you need
shoot me up
shoot me up."

that's from Gia, by Fabulous Disaster. good luck finding it. they broke up in 2007 and their stuff is almost impossible to find beyond the one CD i already have. they were a great all gurl punk band. i miss them. i used to catch them when they came to town. so long ago.

what the fuck am i doing with my life? do i just spend the rest of it in this limbo of mental illness? i'm doing much better, but i still have my moments, and i am still having episodes daily. i'm starting to think there might be some borderline personality disorder in me. the way i flip out over nothing and fly into a rage. on the cymbalta, i was like that all the time. now it's just flashes. doc can usually calm me down with some jokes.

Placebo, the band that did that fabulous cover of "Running Up that Hill", also did a cover of Sinead O'Connor's "Jackie" which give me chills. the vocals are a bit nasal. if you are in love with the Sinead version, you may not like this. but try it. i don't know what LP it was on, i found it in a discography i downloaded. http://thepiratebay.sx is where i find all my downloads.

another thing about the rain is that all the desert bugs not used to moisture are coming into the house. nothing that bites or infests, just the random bug for the cats to hunt. i just don't tolerate bugs in my environment, unless it's a Praying Mantis. then i make an exception. because i believe in the good fortune that a bug can bring me. yep. bad atheist, heh. but they are black bugs, these new bugs, and they wander onto my couch and i don't see them because my couch is black, then, the next thing i know, there is a bug crawling on me. not acceptable.

if you are still reading. stop. i'm not even trying to make sense any more. i'm just writing to pass the time. i have no inspiration for poetry once i got that really painful one out the other day. i can only write poetry when it is bursting out of me. i can't make it come. and i wouldn't want to. forced poetry is obvious and painful to read.

how is it i only have one Ramones song on my flash drive? i need to fix that today. until i put this music together i had no idea how much i liked the Police and Madonna. there's the obvious U2 and Big Country. but only one song by the Ramones, that's not right. only one song by the Sex Pistols, too. that's wrong. i think today i'll play with my play list.

every time i look over at the tv, playing MSNBC, i see football. i hate professional sports. overpaid monkeys. i'm just not into it. now it's football season, fabulous. monkeys. apes. worthless humans paid huge sums of money to be useless. they do nothing to further society. pay our fucking soldiers like you pay athletes. but there's no money in war, you can't show a battle in real time with replays when the brown people die and commentary from more useless human beings.

where are the alien overlords? come and kill most of us and teach the rest of us a lesson. i don't care which side i'm on. something needs to change this world in a drastic way. especially this country. we're just going on, marching toward self-destruction without a care in the world except what that guy over there believes and it's different that me, so i have to hate him and kill him and be a good person for it. fuck it.
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