So Much for Giving Up.

We sat around in our customary circle and stared in silence. These silences that always pervade the room, whilst everyone pauses to think of what to say and how to say it. These silences, where we contemplate the gravity of the situation, where we contemplate the situation in general. These silences, that have become as much a part of our meetings as our conversations are. A general air of tiredness has hung over all our meetings recently. Less words are being said, more sitting sombrely under the blanket of each individual's tumult of emotions. The words just don't come. They do not come like they used to. Each individual knew what was going on, each knew but had not the energy to address it in words. And thus we sit in silence, hands wrapped around warm mugs; surveying the woodgrain of the table, the plush fabric of the couches and the graceful curve of the arm chairs.

I could not understand for one how things managed to take a plunge and nosedive into even more bizarre territories. The confusion and disbelief held my tongue and though I wished to start the conversational ball rolling, there was nothing that could be said that would just roll out without being caught first in the ether when there is a dosconnectivity between thoughts and vocabulary. I found myself in such states then, wanting to say something, anything but not being able to find the right words for it. Or the energy to just blather out something less adequate.

"So you've managed to get yourself into quite another fix again have you," Mademoiselle mused dryly, drawing from her stick. The smoke lingered in the air of the bright and cheerful room, obscuring slightly the sight of her in that severe, black military coat and shiny high heeled boots.

Missy just sighed heavily in response.

Yeah, my sentiments exactly. I considered the situation from my regular seat on the arm chair with my hands together and fingers steepled under my bottom lip. There were no outbursts of expression, no waving of arms and loud voices, but my mind was reeling at the turn of events. Sometimes, even I couldn't defend poor Missy.

"So much for giving up eh," I chuckled wryly as I tiredly rubbed my brows and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"You stupid, stupid girl," Mademoiselle intoned, leaning back on her armchair.

Mademoiselle was right, it was indeed phenomenal. And throughly unfortunate, unfortunately. Although we have long suspected that Missy's influence could not be reigned in, not by conventional means; not by conscious means even. It would seem rather foolish to even try.

"This never should've happened in the first place. They were nothing to us. Nothing." Mademoiselle spat violently. I had to agree with her.

"How could this have happened?" I reeled. "It doesn't make any sense. I completely did not see this coming."

Missy just sat and stared sadly into the distance. "You know I can't help it," she said. "I'm sorry."

"That's why I've always said. It does not do to have any sort of regard for people whatsoever. Nobody on this earth deserves it and we are all better off not caring one bit about anyone. And I am right of course," Mademoiselle announced. "You Missy darling, you're just looking for trouble."

"Well that is rather extreme don't you think," I mediated softly. "Although I cant deny that this case wouldn't be the perfect example for my argument..."

Mademoiselle shrugged her shoulders and exhaled in that arrogant manner of hers, all cold steel and ice. Missy looked imploringly at me, her gaze soft and gentle, but also filled with turbulence.

"Well girls, it would seem that there's nothing we can do about this now, it's done. I for one am surprised as fuck that things have turned out this way. But there is nothing to it now," I shrugged. Taking a swig out of my mug, I looked around at the sombre faces to my left and right and sighed. So much for giving up.

What Happens When a Soul Finds its Resonance in Another?

So what happens when a soul finds or believes it finds its resonance in another? Does it naturally seek to find that soul again? Does it gravitate towards that other soul like a pull some can't explain?

I don't understand just what I see in Ebony. But my limited understanding tells me so far that it's because we're both broken and in the same way. There is an emptiness in me that seeks out the company of the emptiness in him. And desires to sit in a room, in opposite corners and just brood; two empty shells, content for a moment in each other's company of kindred spirits. 

It feels like somehow, Ebony is the more extreme male version of me. Both lonely but finding ways to cover it up, shove it under the rug and too proud to show it to the world. Arrogant, egoistic, proud, stubborn and manifesting it all in a similar way. 

I would like to think that I am right, and I have found a like soul in Ebony. The same kind of empty, yet somewhere in a small, minute corner the same kind of hopeful as well. Like a game of matching patterns, I'd like to think I found my matching pattern in him. And there is a particular elation, somewhat like joy, maybe a comfort, in the company of someone whom you feel is just like you; in a soul that one believes mirrors one's own. We're all similar in one way or another. But that degree of similarity is hard to find. Maybe that resonance is hard to find which is what draws one to another. I would like to think this is true. 

However, I also know the faults and limitations of the human perception and it's capacity for delusion. It is true that we are always prone to see what isn't even really there in the first place. Because it stands to reason that if it truly does resonate then both sides will feel the pull does it not? Thus if he does not, it might be but a fragment of my imagination. Drawing lines and connecting dots that aren't even really there in the first place. And he does not does he. One would believe one would be able to tell if the other does. 

Thus have I fallen to the faults of my own humanity and drawn conclusions that are totally false in their interpretation. It seems I may have as I always do. 

Thank you.

Yesterday was an amazingly, dizzyingly good day. Good days like that don't come very often. I am truly grateful. 

Prayer.

Every night I break into a desperate flurry of prayers. I pray that I will be delivered from this loneliness. That I will learn to live on my own and make my own happiness independent of anyone else. That myself would be enough. And then I pray and hope that love will be mine one day. What would I give to be one of those girls who don't want to get married like ever. Who don't even see the merit of love. Who are apathetic to its charms. What would I give to not need something I may not be able to have. I pray that that is not the case. 

Because I Am a Writer.

We won't run out if things to talk about because I am a writer my friend and I can tell you endless things about yourself and the world. You may or may not want to hear it but I will be telling you endless things. Half of it may be bullshit but you will listen to me anyway because I am a writer. 

Why Do We Often Want Things That Are The Worst For Us?

Why do we oft want things that are the worst for us? We want things that don't bring us any good besides the fleeting pleasures of forgetfulness and carelessness. If only for a day. Even a day is too long. Instant gratification all the way. 

Stupid Things.

We all do stupid things. Maybe it's part of the human condition that we all do stupid things some time or another. Things that we really shouldn't be doing and may perhaps be detrimental. But such are we, we are hopeful beings. Even in doing such stupid things we are always hopeful that things wil turn out for the better as opposed to the alternative.