The Room with Padded Walls

If a man we don't know phones us up today and talks a little, makes no suggestions, says nothing special, but nevertheless pays us the kind of attention we rarely receive, we're quite capable of going to bed with him that same night, feeling relatively in love. That's what we women are like, and there's nothing wrong with that - it's the nature of the female to open herself to love easily.

 

- Coelho

I was sitting at work staring off into space and this guy came over to me and said:

 

Don't worry. He loves you. I have a gut feeling about it.

 

and he walked away...

 

odd.

Perceptions....How we see things and interpret them are so important to the way we deal, cope.... We can look at a steam pattern in the window and perceive it to be the face of Jesus, or a blob. We choose what we see whether it be subconsciously or not. We can stare at the bumps on the ceiling and see a heart, or a cloud or a dog... watch the way a strand of hair falls to the floor and looks like a donut... the limits of this fall not with the boundaries of shapes and patterns, more so with the possibilities that our imagination allows.

 

If only, for a little while, I could stifle my imagination. Quiet the rumblings in the dark and the uncertainty. I hate uncertainty, it makes me act like a girl.

 

I miss those conversations that used to lull me into sleep. The ones right before bed when you're wanting to pass out, and yet you can't...where a calming voice and good conversation take the place of a teddy bear or security blanket. The voice you hear just as your head hits the pillow.... being the voice that someone wants to hear before their head hits the pillow...

 

Had an interesting converstion with D last night that seemed to last for hours. You know those ones where you know you should get off the phone because your ear is all warm, but you just can't because you just have one more thing to say. One more idea to interject, one more point to get across... but he brought up an interesting point, or two, or three, or four thousand as always... (stupid pop psychology books)...I think the basics of it was in order to make anything work you have to take into consideration what the other people need and not just assume that it is the same as you....and then he asked me what I needed. it's an interesting dilemma to consider and since I had ample time to myself today, I accomplished a lot of thinking. Which may or may not be a good thing.

 

Take for example the "cry baby" for lack of a better psuedonym....I think my friends and I all agreed that he was a little bit psycho in the I will call you 19 times in one day just to see what you are up to kind of way. The, I will get mad at you for stupid little things that don't have anything to do with you. The constant need to be around, hanging around, wiith little or no backbone to stand up for himself and say no. Annoying? Perhaps to me... but you know what? Some girls like that sort of thing. A devoted little puppy to follow them around and tell them how great and fantastic they are. Some girls NEED that in their lives. He needed that (even just being friends, I don't even want to imagine what it would have been like had I have dated the dude)... In dealing with all that, I kind of came to a small sort of realization (besides the fact that girls are fully messed in the head and that we really don't have a clue as to what we want either)...  I don't really need anyone to kiss my ass on a constant basis. I can inflate my own ego thank-you-very-much.... but at the same time, some people might perceive his actions as being cute, sweet and a testament to the fact that he really did like me. This means you N....

 

Which got me to thinking... there is something to be said for the attention. I need to know. I need some attention....not a lot. Just some.  A moment where they tell you that you're beautiful (when you're not naked and when you are). Or that they're thinking of you.... you know? just that small bit to let you know that you are special and that perhaps you should stick around and see what happens instead of running for the hills because you're deathly afraid of getting hurt yet again. Or because you're afraid of ducks.

 

The wall of sarcasm rises as a defense mechanism. Crack a joke or two to ease the uncomfortableness of awkward conversation... did you hear the one about the sailor?

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'Tis a strange thing to find yourself in an unfamiliar place. The lighting glows differently on your skin, the sweat on your feet has a whole new stench. Foreign food in your tummy... even your farts seem odd, different...

 

The silence in my brain, something all too new. I bet if you put your ear up to mine you could hear the ocean.. waves crashing on the folds of my brain, water seeping in slowly. Usually it's a bustling place of activity. Worry, stress, happiness, random retarded thoughts, laughter... Not tonight.

 

The chipmunk sleeps in the log.

 

Seriously considering soldering my vagina closed. That way I'll keep out of trouble.

I'm sure you all really wanted to know that didn't you?

 

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Working all day. I come home, go out to KG's birthday and head home.... must admit it was nice seeing everyone again. It's been a while since I've actually been out and about.

 

Anyways, driving home after Gmann drives me to get my car. I turn into the subdivision and all of a sudden there's this asshole tailgating me. Like so close if I even stopped quickly I'd get rearended. I slow down to a crawl and try to turn into my driveway, when he decides that all of a sudden he will pass me on the left hand side. I almost hit him and instinct takes over so I honk. He stops and backs up slowly and all the while I'm sitting in my car going "shit oh shit oh shit..." he starts to yell at me and then I roll down my window (for some strange reason) and he stops, looks at me and smiles and says "heeeeey sweetheart where are you going?"

 

SO odd, but every bit of me wanted that drunken fool off the road. You could smell the booze from across his car and into mine... he reeked so badly. I finally convince him to pull over and park his car and that I'd give him a ride to his friend's place..which he finally agrees to after asking me time and time again where his car will be in the morning.

 

I pretty much drive him there, drop him off and drive home..and it's about halfway home that I realize that I'm a complete moron and could have been murdered during any of that time... cna't really explain why I did it. All I know is that there was this weird feeling that I really needed to get him off the road.