salliss

So.

I've finally managed to spit out a few more bits of paint at the painting I've been working on for a month. Should be done by tomorrow.

I'm looking for ideas for my next set, so I'm probably going to call a conference, of all of my ONE real life friends and myself and figure out what I'm doing. As it stands at the moment, Australia or Bust is still sitting in member review, crying its' eyes out like a dog in the corner having been kicked by several harsh nuns. I mean, with photography like this:



and this:



honestly, why is it still there? I'm sure it feels neglected.

So the sun has continued, making me very smily. I have been working, which is good because it means I'm not spending the money I need to be saving. I don't even go out any more, really. I'm limiting myself to once a month. I'm reading three books at once at the moment, which is proving to be very confusing.

Ideas for paintings or sets would be appreciated, and comments on my set would be more appreciated.

Jotted on a piece of notepaper at work:

I stand at the end
Weight on my left foot
Dreaming of new life
Pining to gaze into eyes
Unknown and so alive
Life escaping, with difficulty
Like mice from traps
And everything I want
Is to let that life escape
So you have enough room
To let me in.
I stop dreaming to take a drink
And realise I'm still here.

I treated myself to a new 4 quid shirt on Friday. It's not black!





In other news, I've found out that my Dad is putting our house on the market at the beginning of July. This makes things very difficult for me as he no longer wants to live in Bedford, so he's going to move away, which either means living with my mother (which would be a TERRIBLE idea as we despise each other) if she'd have me or being homeless. What a conundrum. My Dad would be perfectly happy to have me come with him, but I honestly don't want to move away, start again somewhere else and then leave, AGAIN, and go to Australia and start again there, AGAIN! I think it would be too much for me, plus I need to finish my sessions, and I don't even know how long that's going to go on for.

I walk down a street, around me, people pass, heads directed right ahead of them, unsmiling and unfriendly. A cold town brimming with cold people. I remember my childhood, I would cycle unnoticing of this around, trusting and open, my mind reaching out to new experience, unworrying and intrigued about everything unknown. My sister cycling behind me on a smaller bike, that used to be mine. I'd scream at her that she could never cycle as fast as me, and as I turn back around I notice, too late, the tiny bump on the pavement as I fly over the handlebars of the bike, snapping a finger and landing, too slowly, on my face. It is funny how my life has turned out not dissimilar to that situation. Except it's speculation. My sister is not necessarily cycling faster than me, but the path she has taken certainly seems free of tiny bumps. Who am I to say that? I don't know. I don't know her like I used to. The person she seems to be now is cold, uncaring about much except herself. Maybe she was always like that. She definitely seems to have it easier than me, who feels and thinks too much for others as well as myself. As I walk into the park I remember the confusion at my father, who gave us brie sandwiches as a picnic. Being about 6, I was not too into brie. He took a picture, I am looking confused at my sandwich, and my sister is smiling, her haircut leaving much to be desired. We feed the ducks. I don't remember many outings with my father, but I remember an extreme trust that I placed in him, despite the sandwiches, from that day forward. That has lingered into adulthood. Me and my father haven't always seen eye to eye, but he is, like me, an empath.

My mother never held my hand when we crossed the street, she held my wrist. I never even really knew her. Except that she seemed to be eternally angry. The false niceties and lies that spewed from her mouth haunt me, and will probably do so forever. My mother's behaviour over 21 years definitely contributed to December's almost permanent fatality.

Unsure how to end the blog, Salliss stepped away from the laptop, hitting "Add blog" as she did so.