Dreadful Anticipation

Darkside dreads the day when Adam's fully moved out, as Adam's been occupying my sexual attentions lately. I've only got so much time and energy to go around. Rather, I've got so much time and energy that must be distributed, and Adam's receiving much of it. When Adam ceases to sleep at my side night after night?

Comfort level for both Darkside and myself must be reached. I'm nearing it. Fearing what he might do to me with rejection? Whatever the reason, he's apprehensive.

Peace: water, salt, scent

Took a nice long bath with my exorcise/purify/cleanse bath salts and a book: The Ape Who Guards The Balance, Elizabeth Peters. She comes highly recommended from the List, and I do like her.

Still feeling nice. Skin is silky and smells great. Mmm.

Perhaps I should have gone to bed already.

Privacy

There's something about the feel of pen on paper that's lost in the LJ experience. I'm keeping another paper journal now, one where I don't need to worry about security level of posts, and what if I assigned this to the wrong friends group, or whatever. There, I can bitch and piss and moan as I please, without worry for stomping on toes. The only person who sees the paper journal seems to be Darkside.

Odd, that I can hold so much trust in one man. Yet, he's never betrayed me; never let me continue being untrue to myself should he see me do so. Without undermining my own Will, even.

I suppose paper journal is where I can pick him apart. This isn't that, here. I may root deep into what makes the man tick, but there are things I just don't, can't, say here. I could tell the whole world every word he speaks to me, almost, and that would not change the fact that you don't know him... it doesn't reflect the subtleties of the way his expression, body language, say more than his words do.

I'm besotted. Enthralled. Obsessed. It's the delight of meeting the Other, and seeing within some aspects of the Self, and finding within the Self, the Other, also. Just -- this Other, this Self in Other, Other in Self reflected back, same Power linking soul to soul to soul to soul... it's not going to hurt me more than I can bear, with him. I need to learn it some time. Why not with One who I love?

Sleep

Perhaps I should venture out more, communicate more with other humans face to face. I fear it, though, save for a few selected intimates.

I need more sleep. Darkside and I are in agreement on that.

The Classics

Finished reading Mansfield Park. We knew what would happen in the end, of course. Now poking nose into John Bunyan. As a devout reader of the Little Admiral's, how could I not?

Fun with Quizzes

Darkside and I are amusing ourselves and each other in lab. Quizzes. As far as trigun goes, he was Wolfwood; the demigod as far as RPG stereotypes.

...Nor, I suppose, is he the exact person of my dreams. He needn't apologize for not caring in that way...

I suppose Adam's leaving has much to do with my present need for human contact.

( general grumbling )

On funeral customs (copy of comment to discussion)

"Waste not, want not."

It's the Betan way, after all.


On the back of my Official Alaska State Organ Donor Card (little slip of card, filled out at the same time as I got the license, then laminated) I wrote in green ink: "I love you all", in the way of a final message to my family and friends, should review of the card become necessary.

Display of body? Closure. I'd far prefer the display of various portraits of me (which reminds me, time to break out the gouache and paper again, for various reasons) and the reading of passages of various of my favorite literary works, and the sharing of comforting memories by those I love who love me who survive me. If possible, I would prefer that those who have been given life again by my spare parts would have the option of attending, that those who love me might see that certain physical bits of me do live on, as well as my spirit in the unknowable and in their hearts.

wrist

My mouse wrist has been acting up. This is due to the general unhappiness of my computer workstation situation. It's almost, but not quite, right, and as I've been reading online books with many clickages, this makes my wrist feel very unhappy.

To remedy it, I've taken the case from the new reading-in-the-dark lamp that FatherSir sent, and have laid it right before the mouse, so I may rest my wrist upon it. It has done much good. I am already feeling better, and I instituted my new solution only yesterday.

For those wondering at the change in my diction? Amelia Peabody (Elizabeth Peters) and Jane Austen. I slip into the language of the times, and lately I've not been living in either the States or the present.

The sole wireless keyboard with divided keypad that I saw at Fry's was Logitech. Happy shopping, whoever it was that wanted to know.

Temperature:

98.2 F. Up from previously established norm. I feel overheated.

Worked out

Worked out to the whole of Tubthumping. Was fun. A little shaky now, as my body cools off the rest of the way. Should go grab myself a chocolate protein drink and then shower after I've ingested that. Did stretches and a few pliés.

Votania's playing Dracon on marxdarx's PS2.

Oddly enough, my temperature came down from working out. It's at 97.7 F, which is far more typical for me than anything above 98.

Marx is putting Nephew to bed. There is much giggling.

Bleugh.

The after-workout snack I chose, being healthful and gotten in an extreme attack of enthusiasm, happens to be a chocolate-flavoured protein shake type thing, which is of a truly nasty texture if not moistened enough. Plus, it tastes odd.

Bleaugh. Going to go add more milk.