(no subject)

I feel as sick today as I ever have, but it doesn't fucking matter because as long as there's nothing _physically_ wrong with me (which there isn't) I still have to go to work and teach my classes.

I don't have time for emotions right now. I certainly don't have time for emotional damage.

I am probably not going to be willing to talk to anyone for a few days.

~Sor
MOOP!

(no subject)

Boy, being absolutely swamped at work sure does make one forget their heartache. I had maybe twenty minutes of self-pity before my brain not-so-humbly suggested that if I actually wanted to have plans for my students today, I better get 'em done *pronto*. I so look forward to Monday, which seems likely to be a three-classes-three-quizzes day. Yes _please_, something light!

I managed to finish my A2H¹ plans with about ten minutes to spare before the first class, used those ten minutes to throw together some actual presentation to frame the AdvMath² class, and finished the AdvMath powerpoint while my first A2H class was busily working away. And then it was time to go over the A2H work, then hustle off to the next classroom for AdvMath, and after that I had a lovely hour respite in which I learned I'm going to be a para for two more classes (of mostly Spanish speakers, oh my dear gods), walked all the way to the other end of the school and back³ for no good reason, corrected the (minor!) errors I had found in the A2H lesson, filled in the attendance, and managed to read three whole pages of my book before it was time to teach my second A2H class.

After *that* I had two separate students from my A2H classes who didn't understand one whit of the word problem homeworks we've had recently, so I was at school an extra ninety minutes with them working through it all. And once I'd finished there, I felt completely justified in reading my damn book and forgetting about the world, because let's be real, it was an utter relief to be able to actually concentrate on the damn thing without getting distracted by my own real world problems (as happened yesterday afternoon to a sickening degree)

So I finished the novel, and cleared out from school at about six thirty, and it wasn't until I was biking home that I was given the brainspace to consider all the things that are awful about me and mine right now. No, I _really seriously_ don't want to talk about it. I'm not going to disable comments on this post, because I really do try to use that only rarely, but seriously, I haven't written publicly about it or talked to anyone about it, because I _emphatically don't want to_.

I'm doing fine right now, almost irreverent, even. I have a very strict eye to "all rules are suspended, you are on fucking brain vacation young person" (with the exception of my real-life _paying_ duties, alas), which means fantasy novels and quite plausibly ice cream at some point. There may be a visible aurora tonight, and maybe I will go investigate.

I don't have much else to say. Well, not here. My point from this morning stands somewhat, I am bone-achingly lonely right now, but in a way that doesn't remotely benefit from random offers from well meaning friends. I can assure you, if you could provide the precise thing I needed, I would ask for it. While different affections might be wonderfully distracting, distraction is not exactly what I'm looking for right now.

Right now, I just don't have the energy to be existent to anyone other than myself. I can't not shape myself to your desires, and so I'd really prefer not to even try and whoa is that a serious sentence holy shit stop reverberating quite so much, damn words!

I'll make that post next.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Algebra 2 Honors
2: Advanced Math
3: And it is not a particularly small school I'm working at. I think from the math wing to Culinary arts is well longer than any point on the third floor of LRHS to the drama room.

PostScript: Yo, dude that has assured me in the past that he does not tell his wife about my LJ posts! Perhaps oddly, I am _way more concerned_ about you telling her about this one than the rest. Everything is fine, I will email her as soon as I am capable, I would just feel weird about her reading my casual reports. Thank you dearheart, and I hope you and yours are well!

When have I ever neglected to post something I promised to follow up on?

I can't not shape myself to your desires, and so I'd really prefer not to even try

Wow wow wow. Okay, so, I don't know that I have a lot to say about this, not really, but look, one of my chief coping mechanisms for every negative emotion ever is to go away for a while. I find hiding spaces like I breathe, and the first time I ever truly loved my sir instead of feeling some degree of interested lust was the first time he ever found me inside one and held me tight and worked his will such that I was able to explain my failings.

(I still have had hiding spaces he did not know. Not used more than maybe once, but I _must_ be able to remove myself if necessary.)

But anyways, the abovestated quote is a really interesting perspective on _why_ I need those spaces alone from all else. I've always had this sense of not wanting to pretend to be happy, and not wanting to make people sad by burdening them with things they can't help with --and yes, I know lots of you are my friends and would cheerfully share those burdens, but that doesn't help when I'm at, say, a dance event and more than half of everyone around is a friendly acquaintance at best. There's no acceptable way to explain to vague members of your social circle why you're covered in tears without fracturing any sense of privacy or maturity.

There are simply not enough socially acceptable explanations for crying that I can lie through all of them, and one of the terrible side effects of being me is I express just about every negative emotion and a very many positive as well with weeping-crying-sobbing. As often as not, it is ugly and self-destroying¹, and not something I've any interest in sharing.

I have also known forever and ever, even before I had words for it, that I will absolutely become what you are craving, to the best of my wants and abilities. The clearest note of this is the way my gender will adapt to be the one my desired desires, but in so many other ways, I will strive to give you -and be- what you expect and want. There are limits, of course (I predict I've fucked many fewer people than have wanted to have sexytimes with me), and in moments of negativity -anger, stress, fear, sadness- I will become much more sharply my own self than your projection.

I don't think this is particularly a bad thing. It is a thing to be mindful of, but I suspect it has rather a lot to do with why people seem to like me. I am very good at figuring out --not even consciously, mind-- what you would like, and offering it up to you. So long as the offering does not become sacrifice --and it won't, resentment is a negative emotion and as stated that brings me back to my own sharpness--, it is a good way to be.

But when I go into one of my hiding places, it means that I don't have to pretend to be what you want. You can't have expectations --prediction or obligation-- of me if I'm physically absent. And please don't say that you don't have expectations or that you only want me to be myself, because I've met very few people who don't at least want me to be happy. If you have emotions, I am obliged to share somehow in those emotions, and that's fine, that's brilliant, that's _what humanity is all about_.

If I hide --and make the decision independently to hide-- I am no longer obligated to participate in that humanity, and fuck it, sometimes I really just don't want to! When independent, I don't feel any great need to force myself to be happy. Sometimes it's nice to just sit and examine ones negative emotions.

So yeah. That was much longer than expected, and I have abruptly run out of steam. I feel right now as if I almost can't keep words from falling out of my fingers, but at this precise moment, I've little else to say. Dunno.

I'll be fine, in case anyone was worried for that. I will always always be fine in the end. I'm going to be immortal, after all, and it'd be an utterly foolish idea to fuck that up before I'd even lived out my first century.

~Sorcyress (ged Athe, ged Gaea²)
MOOP!

1: I fell asleep with a monster of a headache last night, the strain of crying too much coupled with physical eyestrain. It made me nauseous, which meant I couldn't eat (eat, I could barely keep down water!) which certainly didn't aid any. It ebbed with morning, of course, as such things are wont to do.

2: I'm not sure why this post wants a priestly signing, but it does, so there, have my major affiliations.

(no subject)

And all *that* being said, I find myself rather in want of people talking at me. I don't have the emotional energy to serve as a conversational partner just now, I don't really have the wherewithal to respond to things. I would love it (LOVE LOVE LOVE) if people made more livejournal posts or other longform things to tell me how they're doing. As it is, I'll probably venture cautiously onto IM and see if I can properly word a status message.

Really, I want to be invested in people, but I don't want to invest myself at this moment. I want to know what's going on in your life, but reading about it takes a very different feel from talking about it. I don't want people to talk to me, I want them to talk at me.

So have at it. Leave me a comment, tell me something of your life just now. A problem you are working on or a triumph you have earned or whatever. Or hells, better yet, make a post of your own so I can find it on my friends page and smile at the existence of you.

I like my friends.

~Sor
MOOP!