My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

So, I’m working on a “real” post, something political. I just can’t focus on finishing it tonight, I had a really unpleasant day.

I’m tired, frustrated.

Today was just slow, and I started this post too late to write anything worth a damn.

So, it’s Valentine’s Day, which can potentially be one of my favorite holidays. I’m, in essence, a silly, stupid romantic. I’m not quite jaded and bitter enough to hate this day, I’m just not down with it today.

Alas, my Peter Smith-Kingsley is far from me. روليت اون لاين للايفون

So, the “new” WordPress editor isn’t really the new editor, its existence is kind of convoluted. If your blog is privately hosted (like mine), you get a different writing environment from what you get if your blog is hosted for free at WordPress.com.

Bottom line, writing on WordPress.com sucks.

So, I’m writing this post in a preview version of the TOTALLY revamped WordPress editor. I don’t know how I feel about it, it’s really different. It cleans up the UI with drop-down boxes. Like, rather than having your blog’s categories always visible in the sidebar, you have to click the drop-down to make them appear.

It still feels unfinished. Obviously.

So, starting right now, I’m going to post every-single-fucking-day. This isn’t some grand empty vow, it’s just a statement of fact. See, I was reading a blog maintained by one my favorite writers, Caitlin R. Kiernan, and something she noted floored me. Apparently, she has posted something nearly every day for fourteen years. That’s… really impressive.

I feel quite motivated. I mean, she’s a genius, published so much brilliance… AND she keeps a completely current blog. I realize I’m not doing nearly enough.

Isn’t it ironic that my previous post about a tattoo with a typo, was itself RIDDLED with typos?

I apologize to my subscribers.

It’s all corrected.

God damn me, and my typos…

So, we’ve come to tattoo #84, and… it’s broken. I got the tattoo last October. Even then, I felt uneasy about it. I wasn’t sure about my lyrics. From the get-go, I wasn’t sure. I’ve only just confirmed my blunder. I should have learned my lesson from Tattoo Crisis 2010, but alas, I’m apparently still quite stupid.

The tattoo is some beautiful words from an Alanis Morissette song, No Pressure Over Cappuccino, which is off of her MTV Unplugged record. It’s a gorgeously written song, particularly a couple of lines toward the end. Unfortunately, the way I used to hear said lines isn’t quite how she wrote them. Of course, once you KNOW the lyrics you can’t hear them any other way. I wasn’t completely stupid, I checked several lyrics sites, but the thing is, the sites don’t agree. Today, alanis.com is pretty sophisticated, with every lyrics sheet from every record. Last year, it was still evolving. If the MTV Unplugged lyrics were there, I missed them. At any rate, off I went! I flew to get words permanently etched into my flesh that may or may not be right… Genius! I should have waited. Then again, I avoid waiting if it’s in my power to do so.

What I heard:

You will learn to lose everything,
we are temporary arrangements

What Alanis wrote:

You will learn to lose everything,
be a temporary arrangement

Either way, the lines have the sad beauty that I love. Either way, they state the transient nature of existence that terrifies me, and drives me. Just, what I have on my arm is a giant fucking stupid typo.

This will not stand, it will be fixed!

Tattoo by Kyle, Doc Dog’s Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor…

So, fuck, I got this tattoo ages ago. I’m finding it really hard to write about, because it asks a question that I was undecided on at the time, but I now know the answer, and it hurts.

The tattoo is from an Alanis Morissette song, That I Would Be Good, which is off her second record, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. People may argue it, but I feel like Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie is the best writing she’s ever done. It’s absolutely my favorite Alanis record. I’ve likely said this before, but I figure it’s worth saying again. Too many people for my liking think Jagged Little Pill is her only record, but Alanis Morissette has done a great deal of gorgeous writing over the years, That I Would Be Good is just one example. The song is a beautiful inner-monologue of uncertainty, a running string of questions, fears… That I would be good, even if I did nothing. That I would be good, even if I got the thumbs down. That I would be good, if I got and stayed sick.  Her own worries that are true to being human, worries that are in all of us. If one of my worst fears happened, would I still be okay? Anybody with a bit of self-awareness thinks such things, and often enough, our possible “worsts” become reality.

In the last ten years, I’ve experienced (quite literally) every single one of my worsts. I’ve lost people I love, to death and plain old circumstance. I died myself, but apparently didn’t care for it, as it only lasted a few minutes until my heart decided against giving up on me. I quit talking… and so on. Out of everything, losing people I never wanted to lose feels worse than dying but not. I don’t even remember my lights going out, but I feel all the empty places in me, the pain never stops. Sometimes, even after years of being apart, the pain doesn’t so much as dull. When I got this tattoo, I was thinking about someone in particular. I kept hearing Alanis sing…

That I would be good, whether with or without you.

I can’t just say it’s okay, because it’s so not. Being without her, it hurts every moment of every day. It’s been years now, I don’t love her any less, I miss her all the more. I hit kind of a difficult time health-wise, so I pushed her away because I felt like she’d be better off. Though, deep down, I didn’t think she’d go. I don’t think we really are better off apart. I know that together, really together, we can get through anything. We can do anything. I know that when I’m with her, it feels like home.

That’s it for now.

So, I’m way behind on posting my tattoos. I’m getting them, I’m just not posting the pictures and telling the tales. It’s apathy, not toward the tattoos, but toward writing. Even worse, I’m apathetic toward me, toward the story of me. I’m a boring story, in my head at least. The goal is to write and not give a shit what people think, but that only applies if you like your own ideas, but are scared others won’t. I don’t give a shit what others think of me or my writing, that’s easy. I have that part down. The problem is, I don’t like what’s in my head, so that’s that, world without end, Amen. Being that I write best about me and my experiences, the real honest to Christ, totally raw, brass tacks problem is… I don’t particularly like me, and I absolutely don’t like my experiences. Now, conventional wisdom says, if you don’t like yourself, you can’t possibly be happy in your pursuits, but I find that it’s the other way ’round.

Anyway, I only have observations just now, not solutions.