butterflies & hurricanes

 FRIENDS ONLY SINCE 03.08.2008.

sorry ;)

So now I'm on heavier meds. It's weird. Yesterday I only took one pill... and I fell asleep at about 7 p.m. only to wake at 8.30 a.m. And I have to take these pills three times a day! I took one in the morning, am feeling a bit wobbly. Time for another one... It scares me a bit, but this time I'm determined to overcome the possible relapse at any cost, so here goes.

By the way, I *definitely* have to go take another pill because this 'I'm-on-the-verge-of-a-nervous-breakdown-or-probably-far-beyond-it-already' state is coming back. Hey, begone! I'm gonna be healthy!

In other news... I bought myself a new pair of jeans and a honest-to-god business suit; I'm reading books, preparing to FINALLY finish watching Supernatural, working and spending time with the most wonderful people; I miss Moscow; I'm trying hard not to dwell on this fucked-up situation with Karen; and I have a ring, a smile and a dream.
Everything is gonna be okay.

So here I am. I came back from Moscow on the 18th... The trip was beyond excellent! And everyone told me that the citizens of Moscow are mean, stuck-up, unkind people. Sheesh! Everyone I met was just superb. God, you guys, I love you. And I'm so sorry I couldn't  find the time to meet everyone I wanted to see. I really hope it wasn't my last visit. Well... there is little chance that it was, actually, for I'm already invited to come again :))

When I came back to Kharkiv, however, the problems started. I found my computer way out of order, which sucked, since I had to complete an urgent job. And the Internet went down because of a recent storm, too, so then I had to run around to mail it... And then there was The Great Move. The stress really got to me, and I must admit, I cut myself real bad.:( I genuinely hope it won't happen again. I'm very ashamed and scared. I will have to tell my doctor on Monday, of course, and I can only pray that she doesn't decide it's a good reason to put me back into hospital. To tell the truth, my mental state has gone down lately, but I still want to believe I can cope by just taking meds and maybe  going to group therapy sessions. I don't want to be locked away again!

Also? I realized some important things while I was away. You see, I sincerely tried to keep in contact with Karen. I sent her several text messages, including a poem written specially for her (I won't even post it anywhere else though it's quite good and could bring me nice feedback) and a proposition to meet and have a conversation. I received delivery reports, so I'm certain she got the texts. I had a hope that she would answer, especially since she did call to say good-bye before I left. But, apparently, I'm not worthy of the queen's attention. Well, if we can't even be friends, it can all go to hell. I may be troubled and deeply disturbed, but I'm not about to keep making a fool out of myself. Needless to say, I'm rather hurt and upset, but I will get over it. I just want my books back. And no, I'm not giving her the gifts I brought from Moscow. She doesn't deserve them. She doesn't deserve ME. She doesn't appreciate me and my feelings. In the brief time we were trying to get things back on track she only kept pushing me away and hurting me to the point where I didn't know what to do with myself. And now this ignorance! Oh bother. Well, honey, if this was what you wanted, you got rid of me finally. Rejoice. Only remember that if you ever want to come back my door will still be open... but there will be a whole different person inside, and she might meet you with a dagger and a cup of poison. I still remember and treasure all the good that happened between us, but you have hurt me so many times that I have to clutch these memories really tight to prevent myself from believing they didn't ever exist.


To sum it up... right now I'm doing more or less okay, I'm happy with my new conditions of living and my new roommates, I've got lots of work and many creative ideas. I'll have to go on heavier medication soon, of course, but that's nothing. I'm alive.

		I will marry a lover that I don\'t have to love.
		After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in St. Petersburg in our fabulous Apartment.
		We will have 8 kid(s) together.
		Our family will zoom around in a green Ferrari.
		I will spend my days as a reviewer, and live happily ever after.

Love tears me up like a demon, opens the wounds and then feels them with lead, and I'm having some troubles just breathing. If we weren't such good friends I think that I'd hate you. If we weren't such good friends I'd wish you were dead. (c)

So that's it. Tomorrow evening I'll be gone.
I really need it to clear my mind, y'know?

All those relationships, just falling apart. I mean... Karen won't even say goodbye, will she? Even just to surprise me, she won't. Stasy... damn, we've really ruined things by trying this 'girlfriends' business. Nothing is ever going to be the same between us. And I miss her so. I really, really miss my best friend. I want her back, but she's lost somewhere. I only have an ex-girlfriend now. Not like I needed another one, oh my! And Ritsuka... She's not someone I want to get involved into this mess my life is. She's too young and innocent for it, and I have already pretty much ruined things for her. She might think she's in love with me or something, but she'll deal. It's nothing. She's just discovering new things and getting new experiences. She might think I'm heartless, but the truth is, I just really, really care for her. And I want her to be happy. No-one can be happy with me, not for a long time.

Sometimes I just want to dig out Natalie and... I dunno. Sometimes I just need to speak to her. I think she could understand this person I've become. I might be lost and confused right now, but I bet she could see right through this shit and make me understand something. I think... if I hadn't fallen in love with her then so stupidly, if things hadn't happened between us the way they had, we would probably be friends even now. And my life would be one hell easier. 

Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah 
(c) Rufus Wainwright


I'm pathetic.
I'm truly pathetic, sitting here resisting the mind-breaking urge to cut. Yeah, I would like to do just that, to slide the blade across my wrist or thigh and see the blood flow. Experience that unique sensation that comes just before the pain starts, that simple, primitive relief of seeing the skin split and the first drops of blood show, and then the true pain, just a light sting, and then another cut, deeper this time, with more blood and harder pain... Honestly. I want it. I need it. 
But I'm not so pathetic as to actually do it... or am I?
I guess I'm supposed to think of all the people I will fail if I actually grab a knife and go for it. But I don't think that they really care. I mean... they say they do, but it's all just so empty.
It's so empty. So hollow.
I'm starting to think, if I actually throw a hissy fit, gather my things and leave this city for good, none of them will be able to stop me. They can't. They won't. 
They are too busy running their perfect little lives full of fluorescent lights, late nights out, shiny 'forever' relationships... oh, the glamour.
Hey, kids? There's no forever. And that's my shoulder you will cry on when your significant others throw your shit in your faces and leave 'when the summer comes a-rolling'. And that's me who will be whispering words of sympathy in your ear, all the time wanting only to give you a good shake and to scream at you, "Hey, fucking idiot, you've been asking for it from the day you first saw your so-called big love."

Maybe we didn't fall in love, maybe we just fell. Maybe we didn't break up, maybe we just broke.
It's logical. You fall, and then you break. You fall in love, and then you break up. It's just the stuff this life is made of. 

And I am a drama queen full of pathos. Hello to you, too.

I wish I could be stronger. I wish I could believe real love actually exists. I wish I could trust my heart and believe that when you walk into a crowded room and set your eyes on one person, that is the person you will spend the rest of your life with, for better and worse. But I no longer think it happens this way. I forbid myself to think it, because it would mean I didn't just flunk the stupid test, I flunked my big chance in life. But there is no big chance in life, is there? There's nothing. Nothing, absolutely nothing. 
She doesn't care, you pretend you don't either, and that's the end of it. 
It no longer matters whose heart got more broken in the process and who loves whom. 
In the long run, it doesn't even matter if you give in and cut or if you put that goddamn knife away already.

Call me to say you don't love me.

All the boys and girls
in the Moscow-city
won't ever be enough to replace you.

How much coffee will you drink
while I am away?

***

You say you do not believe in waiting.
I do.
And I will believe for two -
that is my only strength.

My only comfort is
waking up and thinking that you are breathing somewhere.

***

If I had an evil tween
she would fuck you in the back sit of a taxi.

She would take you home,
keep you,
never let you go to the bright, turbulent world outside.

But I am good and wholesome.

***

Maybe one night you could fall in love with my dark side.

You know what? I'm tired. I can't wait for the 10th of June when I'll get on the train that will take me to Moscow. When I leave all this shit behind for a whole week. Because I'm sick of this.

I'm not a robot. I'm not a machine. I'm a normal human being with normal needs and normal desires. I believe I'm not extraordinary in my wish to be loved by and love the same person. I believe I deserve to be understood, too. I'm pretty fucking sure I have the right to occasionally be selfish and just want things.

I'm a natural Fighter (those who have watched the anime Loveless will understand what I mean). I can't be on my own, I need to belong to somebody, though if forced I'm able to go Auto. When I am with the person I love, I do what they tell me to do. I act when the action is mapped before me. That's not good, I won't argue. That's the way I am, though. I believe that I deserve to be loved and treasured for the person I am. But I think that I can change if I am told where to head with all these changes. I just don't think, frankly, that I want to change. Most of all, I'd like to remain myself. I believe that the person I am is unique, beautiful and worthy of attention. 

That's about all I wanted to say for today, but the day is not over yet and I am sure more words will have escaped my lips by the time the night falls.

Excuse me while I go get myself drunk. Senseless. 

You flick your mane and click your fingers again
And draw me back, you call my name
And like a fool, I run right back to you
And dance along to your latest tune

And when the lands slides
And when the planets die
That's when I come back, when I come back to you

And when the sun cools
And when the stars fall
That's when I come back, when I come back to you

You roll those eyes and trap my hand in your thighs
It's slavery but in disguise
'Cos like a fool, I come right back to you
There's nothing else that I can do

And when the pigs fly
And when the planets die
That's when I come back, when I come back to you

And when the sun cools
And when the stars fall

That's when I come back, when I come back to you

And when the lands slides
And when the planets die
That's when I come back, when I come back to you

And when the sun cools
And when the stars fall
That's when I come back, when I come back to you

And when the war machines
Rust eternally
That's when I come back, when I come back to you

And when your heart bleeds
For a love that's dead like me
That's when I come back, when I come back to you...  
(c)

The test in History is behind me now. All the tests are behind me, actually. On the 30th of May I will know whether I can be counted a student again or whether I have to go through the ordeal again. 
For some reason, that second thought? It doesn't bother me. :)


I think I might be having a new girlfriend. Nope, don't know for sure. But, well, we have had sex (more than once already), my friends love her, I have this burning desire to see her home, to give her flowers and to protect her from everything and everybody including myself...
But I'm not in love with her. And I don't want to start a relationship that isn't based on love. My interest in her is based on the fact that she reminds me of myself five years ago. She has the same look in her eyes that I constantly see in the old pictures of me, and all that. She has the same interests I had then. "The appeal of your own younger self, both alike and different..." (c) That's all it is. I still love Karen. Though I'll be damned if I ever say it aloud again. Because saying 'I love you' when the person in question is going to stay silent at best... it's like answering when you haven't been asked a question. It sucks.
But I can't help writing it.

Maybe it's all I can do: write. Combine pretty letters and make sweet sentences. But when it comes to action, I rarely can fight for what could have been rightfully mine. 
Because, for example, when I am told to leave, I pack up my things. I don't ever want to be a nuisance, a burden. I know that for me to say, "Leave, please, I don't love you anymore"... well, it's tough. I will only say it when I'm absolutely sure and nothing can stop me. I will never say it expecting the person who listens to me to put their arms around me and to beg me to stay, because when I say those words, there's no going back. I will never say them just to check what the other person feels about me, whether she will fight for me or not...
And that is why, when I hear these words aimed at me, I say, "Okay. It's been nice being loved by you." and go. Because I assume that I am told these words with a strong degree of confidence that it is over between us.

My... let's call her my Ritsuka :) has read two of my stories: an old-ish one in Russian called Four Seasons of No Love and the latest one in English, There Is No If. She said, "Now I know one sure sign that a story is written by Aspen Salix Keen. One of the characters is bound to have sex in a public bathroom and later spend a page angsting about how he hates it and feels like a whore and omg i'm dirty somebody comfort me."
*headdesk*

I didn't mean to repeat myself, honestly! I totally forgot that I have already written a story where there was a character who hated sex in public bathrooms... 

It's laughable, really. :))))

Hm. Do you ever get this feeling... when you write a scene, and it's getting so achingly sweet and fluffy that you yourself can't help going 'Awwwww', and you know that in the next paragraph you will have to write something that will ruin this absolute fluffiness and bring the characters back to the harsh reality... and you can't help it, you postpone writing that next paragraph till the next day, because today you want your characters to be happy?
That's what happened to me last night.)

Needless to say, I wrote another sex scene. Yup. Guilty as charged. 


By the way, there is a popular opinion among the antislashers in the Russian fandom that slash writers only write NC-17 because they are horny and aren't getting any. Well, my whole existance negates this statement, 'cause I wrote this second *looong* NC-17 scene after I finally got some. :)))

1. Marina

an amazing girl who is easy to fall in love with but doesnt know what shes got, shy and humble shes always considerate of others yet she never settles for anything short of the best 

Oh, that Marina is so crazy

2. Marina

a port for yachts
or a very cool girl 

ive never seen such a big marina.... 

3. Marina

1. A place to dock yachts

2. An incredibly cool, sexy, intelligent girl who has unfortunately been rejected by the man she loves. 

1. I'd love to dock my boat in that Marina

2. *wishful thinking* I'd love to dock my boat in that Marina! 

 

(c) http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=marina 


Marina is my real name, for those of you who did not know :). 

Oh, and I loved this: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=karen . Karen is my ex-girlfriend and something like the best friend. And all the descriptions fit her perfectly :)



I love Internet. It provides for much entertainment. :)

Yesterday night I wrote an NC-17 rated scene.
I will tell you more: it was a scene describing first time sex.
That's not all: it was a scene describing first time sex gone entirely wrong. 
...And it arouses me.
I must be a bad person and not a very good author. *lol*

Also, I might be reinventing the wheel here (I'm pretty sure I am), but I found a good writing rule for myself: stop while you are still on the roll. Pull away from the story while you still know exactly what is going to happen next and can write it. This way, when you sit down to continue the next day you will surely know what to begin with, and then it will just flow.

Just a note to self. :)



P.S.: I miss you.

I have taken an important decision. Instead of becoming a full-time student at the Academy, I'm going to take a correspondence course. You see, I don't want to have to quit work, because, well, I need the money. I don't want to refuse a single job, moreover, I want more (more jobs! more money! moremoremore! *dollar signs instead of eye pupils*). And a combination of full-time studentship and several jobs is a nightmare to end all nightmares, honestly. I tried it for a little more than a year, and then I ended up in a mental institution. Okay, I didn't end up there only because of that... but you see what I'm talking about? It's too much strain. So - correspondence course, two weeks of exams every six months or so, studying on your own the rest of the time... This is the way to go. And it's not that expensive. I can afford it.

***

You know, I have this absolutely terryfying habit to fall in love with couples. I don't mean couples from movies/anime, I don't mean being a shipper in a fandom. I mean that I'm a shipper in real life. :) When I see to people who are together and are obviously happy, I fall in love with their love. And several days ago I met another couple... Well, I knew one of the girls from before and I knew she was a lesbian and was seeing someone, but she only introduced me to her girlfriend several days ago. And they are so good together... squeee! *is a rabid fangirl* I can't get enough of them. I want them to be together forever. Yeah, I'm an idiot, but I'm in love with their love.

Maybe it's some kind of compensating for not having a relationship of my own... but then I've always been that way.

***

Today Greg and Pete arrived on my doorstep at six a.m. to congratulate me (because of that test I took yesterday). They gave me seventeen tulips ^___^. So I forgave them for the early visit. I was actually glad they came by. I'm so glad they are together again (once more with the 'in love with couple' thing...), and that they are my friends. We spent a lovely couple of hours together drinking mint tea, then they ran off. And I am left with seventeen tulips and a sea of warm and fuzzy :)). Life is great, folks!

So I wrote the test in Ukrainian Language and Literature today. I will have to write a test in Ukrainian History on the 7th of May, Then, on the 30th of May, I will know the results. If I earn at least 124 points out of 200 for each of them, I can consider myself a student of the Academy. If not... well, there's always another year.

The questions regarding language weren't so tough and I think I wrote a pretty nice composition, though I know for sure I made one mistake... well, two mistakes in one word. Go me. As for the questions in literature... The ones that had to do with theory were a piece of cake, but those that concerned actual books... well. Let's hope luck was on my side. And as soon as I left the school where the torture was held my head began to hurt.... and the headache has yet to go anywhere, though it's been something like six hours already. :( I have taken eight various pills. Nothing helps.

I fear to think what is going to happen to me after the test in History.

Obviously, I'm a worthless writer. My prose sucks. It sucks hard. It sucks so hard that it doesn't even deserve flames.
And people are urging me to write a novel? I can't cope even with a short story.

And my poetry... I kept writing about a love. And everyone kept telling me, Lixy, it's all good and great, but the borders of romantic poetry are too narrow for you. You should move on to bigger things. So I did, I'm writing about life now. And it doesn't touch people. It doesn't move them.
So maybe I should have stuck to writing stupid little love poems, but now I can't get back to it properly, so I'm miserable, and life sucks, too, and... urgghhhh.

Anyway, I've crawled here to tell you that I'm going to sit an exam in Ukrainian tomorrow so if you could please keep your fingers crossed for me... yeah.

And when Stasy stops trying to seduce me again, all will be well.

So, ladies and gentlemen, fictionpress has accepted me. :) http://www.fictionpress.com/u/608188/ - that's me, yeah!

And this: http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2506571/1/There_Is_No_If is my story, There Is No If. The one I told you about.

Things you need to know before you read it:
1) The story (especially the first scene) is largely inspired by the song by the same name by The Cure. You don't need to listen to the song to get it, though. I think.
2) Speaking of songs... When Will thinks that he would die for Jason, do time for him and sail ships for him, and then mentions that he feels like he is quoting some old song... he is quoiting a song. I hope you realize which one. :P
3) There really are three endings.
4) Thanks to everyone who made Queer as Folk. References have been made.
5) Thanks to everyone who made Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A reference has been made.
6) English is not my native language. English is not my beta's native language. So be kind, but don't hesitate to point it out if something is downright idiotic.
7) The author (aka me) is a feedback whore. So... feedback? Please?
Upd: 8) I totally forgot to mention it... The words "It's all happening!" and "Does anybody remember laughter?" are from the awesome movie Almost Famous. Let us think that Will and Jason have both watched this movie and enjoy quoting it. :)

Once again thank you, petitealchemist, for the awesome beta. All the remaining mistakes are mine. I'd say I love you for helping me with this story, but that would be awkward. :)

So... some of you might remember that awhile ago I made an entry about a story I was going to write. I wrote it. I even sort of got it betaed (petitealchemist, THANK YOU!!!! What would I do without you?) . And I was ready to post it here, at my journal.

LJ told me it was too long. 

Hey, folks? It's 11530 words long. It's not a novel, it's a short story. Okay, it's the longest short story I've written in years. So what? And I'm sure I've seen other people post even longer fics. I tried to break it in halves. LJ told me it was still too long. *head, meet keyboard* Well, I can't possibly make a post for every 1000 words, can I? Arrrrgh. The world hates me. Gods hate me. Everyone hates me, including my cat, my pupils and that greatgrandmother of mine I never knew. Woe is me.

In a fit of despair I went and registered at fictionpress.com, thinking I might post the story there and give you all a link. So I registered. And now the stupid site is telling me I can't post a story because I am a new member. Helloooo? The whole idea of this site is to post stories! People come there to share their work! Why do I have to wait? 

Why, why does the world hate me? *head, meet desk*

*wanders off to drink some vodka and smoke a pack of cigarettes*

...Oh, and I want my Winamp back. NOW. I'm sick of Windows Media Player. The things one idiotic plug-in can do...