Wow. What a difference a month can make. It seems like I’ve been neglecting this bit of me for a while, for a time to start to write a little memoir, but then I realized I am not where I want to be, so knowing the points to trace in telling the story forwards or backwards are not in line exactly with where they should be…there is no line, in fact.

Things, they are a changing, however. I realized something about myself pretty recently. Namely this bizarre fear of failure in everything from relationships to business to ideas to success, I guess, in all of its valuable pillars.

So in effect I’ve just let go of all of it. Expectation of failure, and sometimes, really expectation of anyone, as…really at the end of the day you are your own person and they are their own, and nobody owes anyone any explanation of why they are the way they happen to be…and this pursuit I’ve had in my life of filling my world up with love, this mad dash to be loved the right way I am also letting go of—I need my space and time to keep getting stronger as an individual. It’s not that I am not strong nor independent…I tried various modes and methods of meeting that love, the men who’ve become important to me over time, but they all evolved from the internet…and this last round was my last. Not because the experience was particularly terrible, but because I designated it my last session even before I met someone I am still quite fond of…the dream maker, spinning tales of adventure and the money. But…he never spoke of passion or having someone along who appreciated his wanderlust and appetite for entrepreneurial endeavors, though, and I always thought those were the empty parts of the stories, probably not appreciating his silence on his relationship past, which is a real dream killer, as we all know. I thought I had that that missing piece for him, but at the end of the day, I think he wanted something else out of life than I see possible. Strangely, now he and I are in the same, yet different boats. But the boat I saw us sailing on potentially had us paired together as a tag team of clever marketing champions, ducking through board rooms the world over. See, guys? This is where your demented fermented from lack of touch mind will take you. The back hallways and alleyways of whiny Lifetime love moments. They don’t happen people. The white pony unicorn moments are usually one sided, if they are even sided at all.

Touche? Well I am not about covering the black with white, so yes…and the discontinuation of the internet stuff is just because really…I have no time or energy to sift through people that way. The lovely I met is in a different country and cannot even come here. Attitudes like mine are not NY ones…so I have to figure out a way to get out, some way some how.

Whatever, that was just the thing pinned to my brain folds last night as I was alone…and the more time I spend alone, the greater the chance that I will retract back inside myself to be the girl I used to be…unreachable, untouchable, untraceable…and though not exactly unnoticeable, ensuring nobody sees me. This is because in times of quiet I listen, I watch, I hear. This is more of who I am sometimes anyhow…trying to absorb every experience…but I do have my extremes.

Business and creation sucks my mind right in. One thing I have learned watching myself and the guy is that it takes a lot of time and effort and a little bit of luck to score the right deal to launch you up. I invested in myself lately, took a rather hefty sum of money and put it towards some business endeavors. I suspect I will be reaping the rewards of my hard labor and investments towards the holiday season. School is coming up fast in January. Must finish…and hopefully find somewhere else to stay besides what will be the arctic freeze of my work/art space…I can dress for such a sleep…just thinking it might be nice not to HAVE to. But I am also realistic and not insane so I understand what might happen. I might actually be kinda couch-surfing for the next two years…which struck a chord of remembering…supposedly Libras are supposed to be having the times of their lives from 10/10-10/12…whatever, stars-shmars. I would love to punch Susan Smith in the mouth for peddling her phony wishes and dreams.