"Alice pressed against the wall
So she can see the door
In case the laughing strangers come
And crush the petals on the floor"

How many of you think of yourselves as Alice, alone and down a rabbit hole....?

Yeah, me too. Sometimes. Listening to that SOM song off an old radio show, on the ride in today, my too-high-pitched voice nervously trying to intro it, fighting for air time with Tony interrupting and muttering elitist garble about "oh, but this is the better version because nobody but the cool people know about it" into the mike beside me...

(I think John is the biggest fan our radio shows ever had.)

Mmmm, Alice... in her party dressed to kill...

"Pass the crystal spread the Tarot
In illusion comfort lies
The safest way the straight and narrow
No confusion no surprise"

Alice, so frail... So damned sensitive. So damned stupid. Intentionally delusional... I'll just keep pitying myself until I dig myself a deep enough hole for somebody to have to pay attention to me...

I don't want to be Alice anymore, but I still remember the feeling far too well. I think I'm through witht he self-pity, though. I think I'm through with the melodrama. Listening to that song this morning told me that...

The Alice act, the oversensitive housewife act, the brooding girly act, get real tired, real fast. They don't feel GOOD. The may feel true - melodrama seems to be the easiest delusion to utterly convince yourself of (we all want to be storybook heroes) but it's not a satisfying truth. It just looks satisfying, but in truth it's like chewing gum when you're starving. Cela ne marche pas... It's not truth. (Kinda like aesthetics making you think you're a beautiful person.)

Still, it does bring up those little pangs, those little nips and bites, those laughing strangers. I still see them from the corners of my eyes sometimes. I'm still afraid of crowds, sometimes. I'm still convinced that half the ski-team is laughing at me, sometimes. I'm still convinced that I look out of place in the "normal" places, SOMETIMES.

Oh, oh, the goddamned melodrama, I'm just glad it's beginning to become a passing fancy now. I'm just glad I've got things to occupy me now.

But I'm still glad I can identify with the cliche of cliched wannabe-goth-bands...

Hey, mind if I post another one? Ribbons, another favourite... Just cuz cobalt blue is such a fucking beautiful colour, and cuz, well, as with Celine Dion songs and the upper class, I somehow still stupidly identify with this one. In my melodramatic moments I like to believe someone may have thought that way about me. (Riddle me this, I refuse to be a girl, but I still dream of being the subject of songs...)

Have a few ribbons:

"I'm lying on my back now
The stars look all too near
Flowers on the razor wire
I know you're here
We are few
And far between
I was thinking about her skin
Love is a many splintered thing
Don't be afraid now
Just walk on in
(Flowers on the razor wire)
(Walk on in)

Her eyes were cobalt red
Her voice was cobalt blue
I see no purple light
Crashing out of you
So just walk on in

Her lovers queued up in the hallway
I heard them scratching at the door
I tried to tell her
About Marx and Engels, God and Angels
I don't really know what for
But she looked good in ribbons
So just walk on in
She looked good in ribbons
So just walk on in

Tie a red red red red red red ribbon
Love is a many splintered thing
Tie a red red red red ribbon
Don't be afraid
Just walk on in

Just walk on in
(Incoming...)

(Incoming...)
Just walk on in
Just walk on in
Flowers on the razor wire
Just walk on in...

INCOMING!

But I know it's ridiculous.

And childish, and melodramatic and self-pitying and stupid and stubborn, and with your help and a good dose of reminder that I'd rather be a monstre than a fairy princess, and a good dose of slap-in-the-face from the not-so-puppy-puppydog, I ought to be better than okay.

I love you guys.
Monstre.

______

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Last few Rants:

I guess this is goodbye. - 11:57 a.m. , 2005-02-10
Endorphins, stress, and magickal mystery - 5:07 p.m. , 2005-02-02
stress, incoming - 4:42 p.m. , 2005-01-28
heaving great happy sighs - 3:05 p.m. , 2005-01-24
Imposter syndrome strikes again - 1:20 p.m. , 2005-01-19