Disjointed fragments

memory is a funny thing.  My heightened level of exhaustion is truly screwing with my mind more often then not it would seem.  There’s things I want to remember because they’re just beyond hilarious and I seem to forget them and then come back to them.  Sometimes I wish I could videotape my life so I can look back on it and laugh.  Laughter is a wonderful thing.  Memories fade and its usually the good ones I find.  As I was having my most enchanted evening with him, something he said triggered a long forgotten moment in what I refer to as my old life.  It was a surreal trip down memory lane & I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that.  He felt bad (no need to), as my beautiful friend Carly referenced:“you are only as sick as your secrets.

Fuck. I. have. a. lot. of. secrets.

Some of which I share (rendering them a secret no more), some I keep to myself.  As much as I didn’t don’t want him to feel bad, it totally dawned on me that there was something semi huge that I shared on here and not with him.  I meant to & somehow I totally forgot & for that, I’m sorry.  I guess now that the moment is over (thankfully)/crisis averted there was no need to bring it up.  However had things not been so damn crazy for either of us (seriously I tried to wash my hands with toothpaste the other day, don’t ask) I’m quite certain I would have mentioned it.  Because he had the right to know and still does.  What a kick to the balls to read it on here and not hear it from me.  Yeah that’s pretty damn low.  Pending of course he reads my blog at all.  Anyway, back to that whole memory thing.  It was strange because it took me back to a place that I hadn’t visited in so long.  It didn’t bother me, it just made me feel unsettled for a while I guess.  I did put a positive spin on it because there is one.  Although I will always wonder what I would have been like had that not happened.

I’m obviously not destined to know.  We all have our scars & that part of my life is my cross to bear and I feel for the most part I bear it pretty well.  I lived it, learned from it and became whom I am today because of it.  I like me most of the time.  I don’t like talking about it because of the emotions it evokes in other people.  I personally have moved on, I can’t & won’t forget what happened but it made me stronger in the end.  Which in a way I am thankful for.  I don’t however want to hurt him with that story.  Disjointed fragments come out now & then; he’s not stupid (he’s actually too smart for his own damn good) I like love that about him.  However I know first hand how hearing about that hurts some people and evokes the general reactions of anger/sympathy/pity and a slew of others that I would rather not do.  Like he said “we all have issues” which we most certainly do.  However I personally think its all in how you deal with them in the end.  Do you learn from them, embrace them as a period of growth or do you react like some people I know and surround yourself with it like a shroud and use it as a shield?  Or more accurately [use it] as an excuse for how messed up you think your life is?  There’s something to be said about letting go and for the most part I have.  It changed me on a number of levels, some of which I don’t particularly care for personally.  I have however made my proverbial bed and while I did lie in it for a while, I have since exchanged it for a new & improved model.  Mostly.

Someday I’ll work up the nerve to share that story and let it out of the damn closet once and for all.  Right now however, I just can’t.  I’m not emotionally prepared to take on that beast and quite simply I’m exhausted physically.  Which in turn makes me mentally exhausted.  Not to mention terribly UN-motivated.  Although one thing I can say is that my tattoos have played a major role.  I was talking to him about this project I did  & how even though its the most intimate part on a persons body in general; its soon going to be in a book for the whole world to see.  Sex can be given up without any meaning behind it.  After all a fuck is just that, however when feelings are involved it changes the overall perspective of it.  It becomes something special and meaningful.  It is however still just sex no matter which way you package it.  My tattoos however are a part of the inner workings of my soul & not everyone is allowed a true peek inside; they are only allowed a brief artistic rendering of what may be, but isn’t what it always seems.

Which is why he left me speechless…  I won’t say why or how.  It was more so due to how it was said, so maybe I’m just being over analytical about it.  I just sat there looking at him with his adorable smile and was totally stoned and didn’t know what in God’s name to say.  So I like a fool said nufin at all.  Even though I wanted to.  However I think that if its meant to come up again in due course it will and I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Speaking of tattoos, we have an appointment on the 3rd of April YAY!  Well not 100% certain if he’s actually going or not but I most certainly am.  Oh speaking of tattoos, I headed over to Ania’s blog of modification wonderment (read misc mod news) and after checking out this particular slide show some of the photo captions angered me.  However I guess in a way if you have no clue what a tattoo entails it might be somewhat beneficial but I felt like it was written almost in a condescending tone.  One pissed me right off:

” Getting tattoo made in unhygienic conditions like use of cheap inks or unsterilized needles can result in major allergies and fatal infections like HIV.”

Yes  that is in part actual fact.  Tattoo ink can go rancid (rare but does happen), people do have allergies to certain colors (red being a very common one) and let’s not forget hepatitis.  However HIV? Nope, why?  Because the virus dies when its airborne.  Yes you can get it from sharing used needles however seeing as how the difference between a hypodermic needle and a tattoo needle are quite vast. Idiots.  If you can’t spot them yourself, allow me to point out a few basic differences.  Hypodermic needles inject things into your veins, tattoo needles do not (just between layers of skin).  You can draw back blood from a HN’s and store it in the base, TN’s can’t do this.  So essentially that right there is enough to prove that theory is dead wrong.  Yes of course they both deal with blood borne pathogens but seriously people, do your damn research before spouting off stupid shit.  I have yet to read a legit story about someone, anyone getting HIV/AIDS from a tattoo.  OK no its not impossible however the chances are so slim due to how the machines operate.  Whereas hepatitis was described to me once metaphorically by a specialist:” Picture it as an actual object on a road, amidst a down pour on a major highway.  Being driven over/on and rained down upon, that virus can live for 2 weeks outside the human body.”

So that alone should be a far greater concern then HIV/AIDS from getting a tattoo.

In other news…

I got my glasses today!  You know now that I can actually see properly, the world is a much uglier, dirtier place.  So is my apartment for that matter.  Funny how I got complimented on my housekeeping skills the other day lol.  Although that’s more so cat hair control because he’s got some serious allergies 🙁  Its worth it though, someone that awesome shouldn’t suffer because of my fur children.  Must. Fight. The. Urge. To. vacuum.  Need. Sleep.

Going to be a long freaking day tomorrow…  Working from 7:30am until 11pm.  Well not straight through but the almost hour long trip between both jobs on the metro is hardly a break I would think.

2 thoughts on “Disjointed fragments

  1. avatar Carly says:

    I love you, my brave friend

  2. avatar Steph says:

    I love you too Carly! You inspire me so <3

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