chasing ghosts (or demons) with alcohol (or lack thereof)

I had a horrible day today.
Started with a fight with my mother the minute she woke up. Not just a quarrel, but a fight fight. one that reminded me of the overly dramatic fights that used to happen 5 or 6 years before..
I had been in a bad mood the minute i woke up too.. I had a dream that agitated me.. it was a dream of people i was trying to forget, and situations long gone.. Wishful dreaming despite the attempts to amputate the wish for lack of probability, want of sanity, and need of relief. i dont want to hear their names, dont want to know anyhting .. i want them to disappear.
the cowards way out i kno. But at least i'm brave enough to say i'm a coward.. whatever
A beautiful dream under different circumstances.
..fucking circumstances..

so after removing my self body and mind from a house full of emotional highs and dramatic confrontations, I (as usual) armoured up with my music, and marched steadily and firmly to uni for a meeting with my advisor.

I'm working on my FYP this semester.. (final year project) the semester i graduate and start living (if only). My thesis concentration was on mythological creatures and my take on their representations.. and it all started from a personal love of these creatures, especially unicorns that had captivated since i can remember...
anyway.. this was my second meeting with my advisor, and we were discussing what i want to do and all that.. and he stopped me today.. he told me that something i told him last time had stuck in his mind.
i had told him that when i see an image of a unicorn.. my eye somehow felt complete.. I was happy, and awestruck and warmed with the glow of beauty.. sounds ridiculously corny or whatever.. but i couldnt care less what you thought about this..
anyway.. so he tells me how i'm someone romantic.. and a "lover" in search of a beloved.. and how a lover always ends up burning as a result of this constant pursuit.. constant search that either ends in disappointment or never actually ends..
i couldnt help myself.. i started to tear up.. i guess it was the result of the whole morning and night.. and feeling like crap..
I guess I do feel that way in a sense.. incomplete until i can love something or someone. In my past relationships i've always been the one "in love"... or been the one whose outlasted the other when it came to being "in love".... I think perhaps i'm just in need of being loved back sometimes.. that its no longer a matter of who it is.. but a matter of the love itself..
i dont know. I'm spewing words now in incohenrent sentences and thoughts that are just banging against my head and its hurting me sometimes to think or even try to catch them..

in the meantime i guess I'll just have to burn...

I (over)think, therefore I am (forever lost)

My ipod ran out of battery.
thats not enough to explain the anguish.
my i pod ran out of battery far from a source of energy able to bring my saviour back to life.

pfffft...
i hate when that happens. I really do.
It becomes very clear to me that i am a sociophobe. I think i hear my friends cracking up somewhere far off.. but its true...
i may be sociable when it comes to certain situations and places... I'll socialise over a drink, i'll spark up a conversation with the bartender, or i'll go up to someone and ask about their shirt or their hair colour or whatever.. I have no qualms..
except sometimes..
sometimes i just dont want to face anyone.. I dont want to hear someone talking, i dont want to think someone is calling my name and turn around (and that happens a lot.. the voices in my head seem to be getting better at that)
sometimes i just dont want to hear the most banal talk spewing out of the mouths of my peers.. it depresses me..
not that i dont say banal things.. but there's banal, and there's "banal"...
I feel exposed and naked without music blocking everything out. I wonder if thats normal..

but the worst thing about it all is probably that I tend to start overthinking. The voice in my head that is constantly talking to me becomes louder. And trails and turns and squirms and rolls over and twists and convulates.
I start jumping from one thing to another and overthinking and judging myself and wondering and and and ...
i guess this doesn't really sound like a bad thing.. but when you're drowning in it.. it's hard to not be afraid of it..

So i sat in the cab on the way home.. Musicless, and feeling cramps in my stomach.. and all i could hear was really bad bad arabic music crackling on an annoyingly low volume so that it's not clear, but clear enough to drill a hole in my brain, and the cranking and banging of the motor...
and my thoughts are going haywire.
I can't follow them anymore.. I'm overthinking..
its official..
i'm overthinking.. and i'm getting down.. and depressed.. and just thinking about it is depressing me so I'll shut up..
but yes... the moral of the story is

damn i pod batteries..

in the rain..

i walked in the rain today.

i'm not sure why i did it. i could have easily taken a cab home, paid that 1500 L.L., sat on a worn leather seat, with the stuffing peeking from the one too many holes, and rested my feet on the clattering metal car floor, (if i was lucky i'd get a cab with a view of the asphalt road blurring from underneath me in streaks of shades of gray)

but i decided to walk.
at first it was the traffic that turned me off. i thought to myself the best thing to do was to walk past it and then grab a cab. there's nothing worse than a dinky stinky cab with a driver that makes eyes at you than being stationary in a dinky stinky cab with a driver that makes eyes at you.

so i walked up Sadat street towards City Cafe, and as i got to the corner, "The Tain" by the decemberists came on my ipod, and i thought what a shame to break the rhythm and get into a cab that had no idea of the beat in my head, and for the sake of saving me distress, i thought i'd walk a bit more.

It began to drizzle lightly, and although this would usually be the excuse of excuses for someone who just wanted to get home to grab a cab and avoid the damp, i pulled the hood of my sweater onto my head, and decided that the rain would be the reason i would walk on.

i like the rain, and it's been a while since i've had time to catch up with her, let her kiss my face, let her wash me clean.

i'd kissed in the rain, cried in the rain, laughed in the rain. and now i just wanted to feel her. It was my turn to give her my time.

my music was loud, the sky was gray, and my face was crying heaven's tears.

and i walked. i walked. and i felt out of this world.
my sentiments switched between two feelings.
in the first feeling i was invisible, and i was a voyeur of this wet winter day in Beirut, seeing people scurry from the threat of water, and cabs honk at anyone in hopes of reaping in some profit, and meet the gazes of passerbys wondering why i wasn't avoiding this adversary.
in the second, i was out of my own body, and i was seeing myself step in puddles, dodge cars, and attempt to roll a cigarette while walking, and just ending up with a flimsy rollie, smokable nonetheless.

all i could hear in the background was my music.

and on my ipod, the lyrics of one of the songs off the soundtrack of Cowboy Bebop plays.

"I walk in the rain, in the rain
Why do I feel so alone
For some reason I think of home"

i walked in the rain today.
and god did i miss her.

the beginning

She sits on her bed in the middle of the night.
lights a cigarette
takes a deep deep breath and watches the smoke trail away from her, illuminated by the cold light of her laptop.
she's listening to Deftones, wait, no. It just changed. Now its Belle and Sebastian.

a few clicks and she hears the typical cackling sound of a computer connecting to cyberspace, opening to the world (damn dial up)
she sets up a blog. no idea why she does. but she does.

perhaps its for nights like these, when the thoughts in her head get very loud. Or for when she get that alone feeling, and the cold laptop light is actually warming.

perhaps.