4:45 p.m. - December 11, 2001
precarious and perfect
The problem with me is that it has become very apparent that I believe in a truly fucked form of karma. Or at least, I practice one. Or, not exactly practice, but have this little voice in my head ordering me to try it.
Explanation? sure. My head is always promising me good things if I do certain things a certain way. I was lying in my bed today, listening to Eve 6; wrapping presents and feeling nostalgic for this band I hadn't given a spin for ages, and I thought; well, if I sing 'Promise' all the way through without missing a word, then the doorbell will ring and he will be on the doorstep.' So, curled up in this little ball, I sang 'Promise'. Despite not having heard it in the longest time, I didn't miss one word, and the notes I missed turned into quite a nice harmony with the singer, anyway, and for five minutes after it ended and 'On The Roof Again' passed, then "Sunset Strip Bitch', I propped myself up on my elbows, waiting for the doorbell to ring. I actually thought it would! When it didn't, I made myself sing 'Nocturnal', which was always the one he'd quote at me. Nothing. Disappointment, of course, but nothing else.
So, as illustrated, and I'm not even done yet, I have this habit of believing in the stupidest things. Like I used to have to finish climbing the stairs with my right foot on the landing. Now I have something different. If I'm walking in the stairwells at school and I fall into step with someone, foot on the same stair at the same pace and everything, some of their characteristics will rub off on me. I pay attention to who I'm in step with for that very reason. Also, I like to sit with my right side to someone if I want to impress them. My right arm is nicer, and I don't have that ridiculous dimple on the right side of my face, and my right ear's piercings aren't as swollen. I know nobody notices this except for me. But I have my ways. And it's not only that, but I have this nagging little voice telling me that if I do all these things right, then something good will happen. Nothing ever does. Of course it doesn't. Was I expecting it to?
Yes. And that's the whole problem. It doesn't make sense, and yet I still believe in it. The karma that my conscious believes in, is the sort that you hear about; the Wiccan threefold law and so on. What you do comes back to you. I don't know about threefold, but I definitely believe you get what you dish out. Not necessarily in the same form, not necessarily in the same lifetime. But you do get it back, right in the face.
I think about it when I look at all the lucky people, some of whom I resent. What have they done to deserve it? What have they given in order to receive like this? Most of all, what have they done that I haven't? But then I think about it again. I can't even go a day without telling a lie. I can't even keep a simple promise to someone I honestly love. I can't even get up off my fat ass long enough to help people really in need; I can't even stand up for what I believe in, for pure, pure tiredness, laziness, and... what do I expect? Do I expect to get something else back?
The only thing I've ever been good at giving is love, and that is a selfish emotion in and of itself. When I love someone, it's painful. A feeling that sends mad tingles in the palm of my hand, especially, yearning for skin to meet skin. Why there? And I will be kinder than I've ever been known to be, for the sake of this painful love, to this person; they've been known to misperceive me as a genuinely kind, sweet person. When will you ever learn? My heart is hard. It wants and it wants and it wants, and it gives off this image of being thoughtful, somehow, it does this, and you fucking fall for it. Not only do you fall for it, but you revel in it. You don't love me back, you make this perfectly clear; but you're constantly telling me I'm kind. It's not enough to be kind. It's not even enough to put off a pretense of being kind, accidental as though it may be. All I need is to be loved by somebody. Somebody and their heart, hard or soft heart, staunch or needy heart, well, not needy, needy never fails to send me flying in the opposite direction, so open or closed heart, even, self-fulfilling or generous, these hearts of others; all I want is for one to notice me. and fall together, precious, precarious, and perfect.

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