aww, hope you're feeling better now, meditation sounds like a good idea. bloody spiders, a couple of nights ago one jumped in my bed when i was just falling asleep and almost crawled in my pussy! was to scared to scream even, eventually i managed to throw a book at it and jumped on it until it was finally dead. couldn't get to sleep for hours.
*shudder*
another thing that bothers me, is that i seem to be claustrophobic since last year, so strange never had that problem before
*hug*
Hmm not sure about sage advice. I suppose the secret is actually, genuinely not worry about much stuff, so therefore it can't wind you up, make you mad or whatever. And there's nothing wrong with being emotional/passionate/whatever as long as you're respecting other people's space and stuff. And work on your breathing excercises.
Advice, well, I know it's easy to read yoursef into what people write, but, a lot of that rang true for me. I'm going to be trying some stuff soon, I'll let you know if it works.
Spiders - not nice. I'm not afraid of them anymore, but I use to be.It was when I realised that the spiders in this country are not as dangerous, as those from other countries. But also the fact they are smaller than than me MUWHAHAHAHA I will come round & deal with it for ya hun
well, i'd love to give some advice to help, but i don't think i'm one to give good advice. but that link to the spider page made meput my feet up onto the chair so there not on the ground. i've been trying to conquer my fear of spiders for ages. i can pick up small ones now as i've forced myself to do it. but some off them i won't go near. maybe going to a reptile store and asking to hold a tarantula might help. or a goliath spider. there bigger than most tarantula's.
really hope your happy and things are go well for you .
Deep green reflected in the broken glass, and it took a while to realise we were still strapped in, upside down, with the river just feet below us. I felt bunged up, then realised this was blood that had filled my nose and started to coagulate having run down my body from relatively minor gashes in my leg, abdomen and throat. I moved my right arm up, slowly, but it felt uninjured and I pulled the rubber knob and let my flight helmet drop with a nearly inaudible plop! into the roaring water below.
"Orr?" I said, or tried to say, but if a sound came out, even as a raspy croak, it didn't rise above the sound of the water, which I now realised was actually deafening. I turnd my head hard left, trying to see if Orr was behind me, but my neck and back resisted with near-blackout pain so I gave up.
And hung there a while, green light, water rushing, occasional drops hitting my face. Part of me wanted to hang here forever.
Opened my eyes again, crusting blood now a bit of an irritant. Where was the control panel, the stick, throttle, heads up display, rudder pedals, avionics and radar display...
Where was my ship?
"You fucking idiot," I thought suddenly. "You didn't crash at all, you are hanging in your Martin-Baker GRU7A rocket assisted ejection seat. Your splendind F-14A+ is long gone. Maybe with Orr aboard."
I looked down. Up. Sure enough, my chute and gear was strung across two large pine trees and I was hanging, luckily it would seem, above some cutthroat trout.
My vision seemed very blurry at times as well, and I recalled the impact of the wind when I punched out. My visor had been up which didn't help and since Orr had pulled the plug I did a only slightly subsonic face plant.
Something about a compressor throwing a blade, a loss of power, and a panicky RIO.
The river was loud but didn't seem deep -- i could see bottom where the sunlight poked through the trees and now that I was getting my bearings I was only about ten feet or less up, the banks maybe forty feet on either side. I took a breath and unstrapped.
The shock of the cold water, deeper than it seemed, the colder pain as my tailbone struck a sharp rock on the bottom, and knowing I had to get up for air before I blacked out, kick to the bank, sparkly swirling golden mud, taste of fish in the water, blood, then light and warmth and air. A new noise, helicopter? Yes. The cavalry.
Then a Hobbit jumped out of the woods, brandishing a big knife, mumbled something about 'Sting' and cut off my wiener.
The End
EDITORIAL NOTE
Maybe it will take your mind off things for a minute.
i have no words of wisdom except - who the fuck cares what others think! just be yourself, and the people that are meant to love you will draw to you...if they don't then why waste time trying to bridge the gap?
i'm so fed up with making the effort to only have it thrown back in my face...
If we stay this angry with ourselves we will be put into a marketing group and the USA will make money out of us feeling so crap about ourselves.
Don't be the ANGER $
Let your mind Blend with its surrounding your RIGHT!!
Because there is no such thing as Right or wrong only ways not all ways are easy and the easy way is not always the best
First, you and Ant are the greatest - thank you so much for everything. I feel like I'm starting to get to know you both a bit aside from the video stuff and as you say it is cool to find 'nice' people (with whips and Tommy Guns etc) to hang out with. We shall see what the future holds.
I'm excited about the vid, my DV tape (which I need to get to The Boy) hs some great stuff itself so Ant's should be most excellent.
She keeps looking at me in the reflection of the train window, thinking I'm not onto that old Chestnut. I even go so far as to stare straight into her eyes, but her blue smoke and mirrors trick seemes to only work on one direction. Hers. She actually thinks I'm looking out the window as the midlands and their green, lamb-filled fields fly past.
I turn back to my magazine and flick to a page that has singles ads and open it face up on the little train table, reading intently. If this isn't a signal, nothing is. I like this game of cat and mouse. I sometimes play it on the tube.
One time on the way to meet Igor in Mile End one of these encounters culminated in her basically standing close to me and rubbing her arse agains my thigh and crotch. We never made eye contact. After two stations she bolted off the train and all the way up the stairs at Whiechapel and I couldn't get the image of a doe fleeing into the forest from my mind. That was fun.
Sometimes it goes nowhere at all, the fear of the new or the thrill of the chase beaten down by the what if's of modern life and the culture of not speaking to strangers, let alone neighbours.
Escalators as well -- the long stare, the eye contact, the smile. Fun, but seldom works.
Nicky says my game is outrageous and I am a flirt. I think it's like a social experiment. Observing human psychology. Seeking how strong is the desire for contact and intimacy - and can it overcome all the social and personal fears - and why - and who does and who doesn't.
Then again, sometimes they are in fact just looking out the window.
I will come round & deal with it for ya hun 
another thing that bothers me, is that i seem to be claustrophobic since last year, so strange never had that problem before
*hug*