I’m on my knees for a reason. I slid to them after I closed the door on you and I put my head in my hands, hiding my eyes from the hall. You can’t see the wet skin behind the glass from where you are, the face trying to falsely smile.
It’s cold.
My friend Dave Littler, of Dave & Vyacheslav, finally has a Livejournal. Once again, it proves to be a splendid networking tool as we have fallen back into touch as a result and are meeting tonight to put heads together on a bodypaint. He’s bringing sketchbooks for me to pore through, to find theme or pattern that I like. I remember my Ex being nasty one evening, “I never knew it could be so cheap to get women naked in your livingroom,” and now I sort of smile. It’s been a long time. A lot has changed.
I should call him, drag him over for an evening of sci-fi movies. It would be killing two birds with one stone. I need to get over my nervousness with phones and I need to wind myself back into being social. My associations of late have been fewer and I can feel that I need to keep base with more people I care about. I starting to feel like I’m not a friend enough. It’s entirely the phone thing, too. I’m aware of that. Like how I haven’t seen Jacques since coming back from California because it would mean calling him. It’s not that keeping contact with the world through my computer doesn’t work – I thought I had nothing to do later this evening until Travis, a Rowan roommate, appeared on-line telling me I should be at a CD release for Cadeaux at the LampLighters for 9 – but I should be talking more with people who live in my own city. It’s left over training from a broken girl that I’m not any longer. It’s the ingrain response of I-will-be-punished for this. There’s not a lot of luggage left, but what there is can be irritating. I can see the flower print problem, I should be able to kill it. Set the damned thing on fire. I never found it useful anyway, it was a lousy gift.
I am aware, however, that I have my life structured in such a way that I require time on-line. Too many precious people live far away. Some of them I’ve never heard thier voice, but I talk to them almost every day. These people are like digital flesh of my flesh, they are part of my tangled family. I only wish I could give something back a little bit better. Michel continues to draw me into educational comics and sends me interesting packages, and all I seem to be able to do is mutter to myself in notebooks at him then fail utterly to decide my letters are worth sending. (I’ve assuaged my idiocy there, though, I’ve sent him a package back). The people who are far away, it’s not like I can help them with their moving or drop by and make them dinner. They have the offer of my home to stay if they’re ever in town, but unlike a friend I offered the same to last night, they’re unlikely to have the chance to take me up on it. If anyone has a thought of what it’s possible to do on-line, don’t hesitate to tell me so.
