sorcyress: A character from a comic about the maintenance workers of the universe, holding a thumbs up and saying "MOOP!" (Zonker MOOP!)
I am in a pretty serious "everything is terrible" right now space. Lots of reasons, but really, the big one is that "everything is terrible".

But you know what?

I am a stubborn-ass survivor. I am a fighter. I am too good for my brain to pull This Kind of Bullshit without lashing out wildly at it, just out of, you know, _spite_ or something.

So today, I lashed out by doing a little bit of room cleaning (mostly of the "put everything in piles to deal with later" variety) which resulted in a completely clean desktop (YES YES YES YES YES GOOD). And then, once I had my completely clean desktop (to stand on, natch), I realized I could finally put up the index card with the quote from K˚ that I made when he visited1.

But before I did, I remembered that I had been meaning for a couple weeks to make some more cards, mostly because I've been listening to a lot of s00j lately and she sings good yes2. So I sat down and did that, and then I put them all up, tucking them into the grid of the drop-ceiling and pinning them to the tiles.

That was about when I realized that I have some posters I've never found the opportunity or space to put up. And I still had all this leftover ceiling. Then after those were done, I realized that I could run ribbon through my collection of origami dodecahedrons and hang those up by my PHiZZ torii5. And then I realized I could take some of the insect fabric Sparr got me and hang it above my windows.

MY ROOM IS BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE LIVING IN IT.

And that's gonna go a _lot_ towards coping with the fact that "everything is terrible".

Pictures under the cut )

My room feels less like a bedroom and more like a studio right now, and that's just about the best thing I could possibly do for my mental health, I do think.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: I keep index cards on the ceiling above my bed. You can see an original collection of them here.

You don't get to know what K˚ said to me that I found so significant unless you come to visit and I let you in my room and you get in a place where you can read all the cards and you figure out which one is from him. But I have been meaning to blog about it.

2: Reference post for where the phrasing "you sing good yes" comes from. I have gotten a little better at reconciling s00j-as-person with sooj-as-singergoddess. Gosh, I mean, I even waltzed with her3 last time I ran into her (at Balticon '12). Also, it has become a little more important to my life as a whole to complete that reconciliation. For, you know, reasons.

3: I can say of my bite that it's worse than my bark.4

4: You wanna know why I don't do subtlety? Because this is a simple example of the way I work. No one pays enough attention to follow this thread. That's intentional, only usually it matters, so I don't draw attention to it (or even do it in the first place).

5: Toruses?

6: Dodecahedrons are powerful. Like, do not mess with them they will fuck you up powerful. Building them is a good thing, destroying them is a TERRIBLE thing, and while they can affect all aspects of life, I believe they most strongly influence travel. Hence my musing that I could unfuck the T some by building more.
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
So this is technically fifteen minutes late. Sue me, it's not tomorrow until the sun rises or I sleep.

A week ago, I made a post being all "Half-Naked Thursday, whee!". It was meant to be a look at more metaphorical nakedness, stripping down the walls to show you what I've really got going on in my world.

At any rate, then I mentioned that I originally had two photos and was only showing one of them. This makes this weeks HNT really really easy for me to manage --next week, I will have to actually look around to find a bit of myself to reveal, if indeed, I continue on with this trend.

But yes. Have a picture of me being naked. Odd, in that it's also not a picture of me at all.

Happy Thursday.



This second is a little more new, a little more raw. It's the ceiling of my room, directly above my desk.

A week or two ago, I was having a rough night. In talking with Rackle, she brought up the term "Index card days", where you're just so socially frustrated and out of cope that you have to communicate through tiny 3" by 5" cards.

I have a pile in my desk drawer. Out they came that day, and it seemed the most logical thing in the world to write some song lyrics across them. Lyrics from strength-songs, where the lyrics don't necessarily matter in the slightest, but the message of being strong is crucial to my well being. "Go Away Godboy" is the song I use the most for this --I've never really had problems with people trying to convert me or mine, but howling along with the words can stabilize my mood like nothing else.

Because the words are meant to say "fuck you, I'm stronger than that", and on days when I am weak and helpless, I really need that.

And I forced myself out of the sobbing1 to write more of them, because if I am actively writing, I am forcing distraction, and that little edge of distraction is all I need sometimes to stabilize. All of them have wound up there, tucked into the framework of the drop ceiling. I've got ten of them now, apparently. I'm sure that, as I enter this mood, and need the music and lyrics, I'll think of more.

So that's my current vulnerability. Come visit, I'll let you read them if you'd like.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Which itself was after that pervasive emptiness, and broken by my reaching out. I don't like playing shitty girl games, and I hate being cryptic, but that doesn't mean I manage to make all my words to people transparent. There are people who can read between the letters and the lines, through the /me and the carefully arranged punctuation and capitalization, and figure out what I'm actually trying to say over IM, that I just can't, because the words just won't come.

...and because there isn't an elegant way to put what I'd be doing in reality into words. It's that vulnerable look when I arrive on your doorstep, and ask for a hug, and pull myself into you, a double fistful of your shirt as I hide inside your arms, and pour myself out onto your shoulder. It's past want, straight into need, and I don't have a lot of people I've done it to, or *could* do it to (two? maybe three?) and I'm about to lose one of them, but I don't care, because sometimes there's safety there, and that's what I need more than anything else, that memory of safety. ((ETA: Holy run-on sentences, Batman! But this is kinda what my brain starts doing when I am in a vulnerable state))

It's an index card with eight words on it. It's an IM with eleven. It's being held, and being *held* and being held. It's the stairwells at Springstep, and just out the door at NEFFA. It's the long process of reducing the scarred and improving the weird. It's crying in June with the door shut, it's crying in July curled in the arms of someone I can't have, it's crying in August to a boy I barely know, it's crying-sobbing-breaking in January as I watch Next to Normal and try to separate their pain from mine, and try to find the strength I need to say the words I can't, I couldn't, I did.

It's the response I need, when I need it. It's breaking the emptiness with a *kiss*, and breaking the sobs with an *embrace*. It's *comfort*, from everyone who's ever given it.

And it's s00j and Dar and Vienna and Amanda and Alice.

If you can figure out a quicker way to tell people I need "that" than all the above, I'd love to hear it.

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sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
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