Little Voices in My Head » makes you think

Not Sorry

Carissa — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 05:40:33 +0000

Terribly sorry I haven’t written in awhile…ok, that’s complete bull. I’m not sorry. I simply haven’t had anything of my usual emotional vehemence to say.

I DID write a rather lengthy blog last week, and fully intended to post it. However, after I had edited it for the fourth time and it was STILL too mean, nasty, and dry, to post publicly *in my opinion*, I decided silence was golden. Tonight, that opinion has changed.

I’m not posting that original blog, but rather, the reason for the change of opinion. I decided to just roll with my mood today after reading through some message archives I had stored on my lappy between my bestest gal-pal Shannon and I. In it, the comment of “You know how I roll. Fuck with me? Shame on you. Fuck with my friends? Knife in your liver.” was made by me to her, and I realized that: 1. Yes. Yes, I am capable of extreme emotion when the situation warrants it, and 2. I haven’t felt anything akin to an extreme emotion in awhile when it pertains to me and my life, only that of those peripherally involved therein.

Ponderous.

I still feel emotions. I haven’t become a drone. I still love, laugh, smile, frown, etc. But when confronted with an extreme situation lately, I have reacted with an almost computational logic that defies my norm. Even the Little Voices have toned themselves down to a rather dull and almost aching roar rather than their usual constant siren wails. Until something upsets the applecart of my family or friends or a patient of mine, or even a stranger whom I see as being wronged in some manner. THEN I am capable of emotional swings that would make a manic-depressive man’s head spin. Heaven forbid someone make the mistake of upsetting my Pammie. Can you say “momma grizzly bear”? Yet, I cannot seem to muster up the emotional energy to feel anything resembling “Umph” for myself.

Perhaps the reason for this blank slate is that I’m just too busy caring about and for others to give two wits. There is nothing I’d like more than to just curl into a little ball and wail for my own problems, yet the tears just won’t come. The nightmares do, and my poor sweetie probably deserves a medal for putting up with more than his fair share of those, but even in the dark the thing that scares me the most is that I just don’t care enough to take care. Someone I love hurt me deeply, and I don’t care enough to do anything about it. Someone I trusted betrayed me, and I don’t have the energy to confront the lie. Someone I respected dishonoured me, and I can’t summon the ‘umph’ to react. I just don’t have it in me.

Carissa the Numb.

Cliche

Carissa — Sat, 09 Feb 2008 20:34:24 +0000

Why do people say stupid things they don’t really mean, but they say them because they are part of the lexicon? The statement that brought up the topic was “if you can, that’s cool, and if you can’t, that’s cool too.” I know I’ve said it, I KNOW some of you have said it, but really, do any of us MEAN it? Hell no. I wouldn’t ask you to do something if it were ‘cool’ that you couldn’t do it. Hince the asking. Other examples:

“Catch ya later”—unless I’m talking to a trout, this makes NO sense.

“I can dig it”—again, unless you are actually HOLDING A SHOVEL, this makes no sense.

“Word, yo”–what word, and why is it half of a yo-yo?

“I hear you”—of course you heard me. Last time I checked, you weren’t deaf, and I was talking. Duh.

“I like her and all, but I don’t think…”—ok, you either like the person, or you don’t. If you’re going to make a bitchy comment, tell them. I don’t want to be responsible for the fall out if I’m talking to that person, they ask me what you said, and I have to lie. I suck at it, and I refuse to do it anymore.

“Ok, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but…”—If you’re not supposed to tell me, DON”T EFFING TELL ME. See previous statement about how much I SUCK at lying! Don’t get me wrong, I can keep a secret until the day I die, but I can’t just lie to someone I care about. I will be foreced to tell them “I know, but I can’t tell you a damn thing about it”.

“It’s not you, it’s me”—this statement has never been said with a straight face. Man up, *or woman up*, admit you don’t want to be with someone, and expect them to be an adult about it and move on.

“Get off my back!”—Um, I’m 5′10″ tall. Unless you are much much MUCH larger, there is no way in hell I was EVER on your back. The sheer physics of that are improbable.

“I love *insert name or pronoun here*, but I’m not IN love with them”—ok, this one KINDA makes sense, if we’re talking about a puppy. If you’re talking about a PERSON, you either love them, and want to be with them, or you don’t. There are different types of love, yes. I don’t love mom the same way I love a man, *cuz that’s just sick* but I don’t lie about it either. I either love you, or I don’t. End of story.

“That’s such a girl/guy thing”–when did activities/movies/books/whatever suddenly get a gender? I didn’t think that in the year 2007 things would still be divided by sex. I’m not going all femminazi on ya, I think it works just as cruelly on the guys. *if you like the movie Beaches, and happen to have a penis, who CARES?*

“Sorry, I’m just…”–RELAX people. Appologies are unnecessary at the begining of a statement. If you have a good reason for your behavior, great. Tell me, and we’ll all hug and get over it. If you don’t, I’ll tell you you’re being an ass, and we’ll all hug and get over it.

So, that’s all I could think of off the top of my head, because the day is young, feel free to comment with your own “Most overused, incorrect expression”. And please, don’t give me that “You’ve said that to me before!” bullshit. I know I’m guilty of saying some of these things. I acknowledge that I may even say them again. So get off my back! *see what I did there?LOL*

Carissa

Hoppin in the “WayBack” Machine

Carissa — Wed, 12 Dec 2007 20:11:47 +0000

This monologue was written and performed by yours truly in my senior year of High School. Yes, you read that correctly. Hence the title. Everyone squeeze in the “Way-Back” machine, and no pinching your sister, or so help me god, I’ll turn this bus RIGHT back around!

The assignment was to write an updated take on one of Chaucer’s tales. I chose the viewpoint of a heroin addict, as it was something I had a…unique perspective on at the time. (Breathe, Mom. BREATHE!) I dressed in some ratty jeans, combat boots, an old jacket of my dad’s that I rolled in the mud, rubbed lard in my shoulder-length hair, and applied some really nasty track marks to my arms with some very improvised make-up. I went all out on the make-up on my face too. Sunken cheeks and eyes, pale skin, the WORKS. I scared the bejesus out of my first three teachers. (Did I mention I wore this costume all day, and that this class wasn’t until my last period of the day? *evil evil grin*)

My friends from that class have since asked what happened to that piece of work, and I was rummaging in my theatre trunk the other day, and whaddya know, I kept it. Thank god one of my little voices is a tad bit obsessive compulsive.

Addiction

I’m not the kind of person you’d expect
to have arms filled with tracks.
My hair, once full and envied
now flat and dirty
My body aches, my head pounds
I see the pretty, pretty sounds!

My parents? Gone when I was 10.
Me a baby chickie, no mother hen.
Pain in my heart, pain in my head,
I’d do anything to keep the pain dead.

DON’T MESS WITH MY STASH!
Man…I need some cash…
Sell you a shiny trinket for some cash!
I just need enough cash, make my flow last.

Cuz you gotta keep that high going
keep it going strong.
That high always fades before too long.
Gotta get more gotta get more gotta get more
Don’t touch me! I ain’t your whore!

So what man, if my eyes are dull?
So what if they’ve sunken into my skull?
Who cares that I’m pale?

Maybe, maybe I’ll find an apple core in that garbage over there.
Yeah, the sugar keeps the Dragon in longer.
And the Dragon, he keeps away the hunger.

See, kids like me, we were “custody of the state”
Ya ask me, they were too little, too late.
See, the Dragon Keeper had done seen my Momma, and me.
He said, “I’ll ease your pain, for a fee. Give me your locket. That shiny bobble.
And I’ll show you love only my Dragon can give you.”
After that, using was nothing but that same old thing.

I started buying. Then mixing. Then selling on my own.
I sell to everyone. Don’t know who I’ll sell to next.
Pimps, whores, teachers, cabbies, preachers, doctors.
Hell, one day, a man who works for the MAYOR of our town,
says the Mayor have a great big frown.
So I sold him a big fat Dragon,
Keep him company.

Look at me, got the Mayor’s money.
Where will I go next?
Shit, who knows?
But for sure, you can find me and my Dragon,

Ridin’ the flow.