2005-03-29

Another childhood hero dead, and this time he took his own life...
When I was 14 I took almost 50 panadol and washed them down with a bottle of vodka and waited to die whilst listening to Crowded House's self titled album over and over again. All I ended up with was a stomach pump, damaged liver and kidenys, a giant headache and the inability to listen to that album ever again.
But yesterday i pulled that record out (oh, yes, vinyl!) and played it again, one last time, in memory of Paul Hester. And then I burnt it. Because I know why Paul killed himself and I've been in that place, and I'm not ready to go back. So instead a funeral pyre of vinyl and cardboard, and I let my hopelessness rise up with the smoke and dissipate into the big blue sky.
Am not pregnant either. For a fleeting moment I was envisioning having to run away to Spain with my love child where we would live in a whitewashed walled house and grow oranges and train horses and never see anyone from here ever again. But it appears the morning after pill does work for some people, me included.
Bit sad in a funny kind of way. Sad that that Jman and I spent such an incredible night together and there's only electrical impulses and hard-wired synaptic explosions left to show for it. A child though? Who am i kidding? It would have been worthy of a novel, but a difficult life to live.
So you see I am still lonely and frightened here in the cold tip of the land, and still seeking refuge in a warm pair of arms when they crop up. I make no excuse for my actions. They are morally corrupt, and society does not take too kindly to my kind of woman. I don't feel wrong about it, and my love is not limited to one person (how selfish! how mean!). But I can never talk about it. I can't share with the world all that I feel because it is deemed inadmissable. And I would hate it if he found out and it hurt him. I don't want to hurt my husband. I am hiding it all for a very good reason but it all comes out sounding like one big excuse to let me do whatever I want. Not true!! I am still trapped in this cold and lonely place.

I sat in the bath the next night dreaming of how I would be such a good mother, what good care I would take of us together in our isolation. The games we would play together, the stories...

What a horrible person to wish that fate apon a little one!

bitch - moan