To process is a process with a plan

Hello lovely bloggees...

So sorry its been a while but I've been full on... oh baby... drama drama drama I tell you.. on stage and off...

Feeling a wee bit weird tonight.. nooo it's not the 15 pinot gris I inhaled... yeah okay maybe that might have SOMETHING to do with it but mostly I reckon it's just life.

So I've invested a lot into the last couple of months. Professionally, personally and creatively. I've gone through challenges in all aspects of the above and I can say honestly for the greater part it was o for orsum. But some have been (to use my favorite termanology...) ARSE.

My baby is flying the nest. My little boy whom I have struggled through this maze of a world I call my life is going flatting and I'm kinda gutted by it. I feel so ripped off... Did I do enough? Was I a good enough parent that he will exist in this septic pool we call the world safely? With enough life skills to get him by, sensibly and safely? Oh shit... I don't know. I only hope that he survives being I guess a lot like me in the survivor sense but not in the emotional sense. I hope I showed him enough honesty to give him the tools to get through but not too much that he feels he can't be all that he should.

Oh christ this is heavy.

Okay so let's get into the lighter side of Vikki Stylz. Jaysus I've been busy. The months and weeks are blurring into one and I'm quite frankly... farking dizzy. Nope that's the pinot gris. Dammit. And its wearing off so forgive me if this gets boring as arse.

I have to re-visit Mr Chemicals because I know that's been a hot topic for the avid fans of "Condensed and Edited". Alas. As with most of my trysts it fizzed like a roman candle in a hurricane. What did I tell you guys??? Too good to be true, too intense to be for real. Now there is this polite funk that quite frankly pisses me off. Ah fark. What can you do huh? Suck it up and store the vibe away for another time, another place, another chemical reaction that you hope comes your way.

Why? What the fark? Come on guys I knew ALL along this was a fantastical surreal feeling. And I was right. So my question to you all is... why was it there? Why did I, despite the gut feelings, persist with the momentary buzz. Now I just feel like a dick. Especially when you get proudly and unshamedly introduced to the 'partner' and the child whom is paraded in front of you like some performing doll. Fark me. This is a place where I'm supposed to give hilarious anecdots of my joke of a life. Now I just feel like I'm a fraud. Especially after reading through my past posts. I was to be honest... absolutely gutted and so very very embarrased because I FELT IT. I believed it and I INVESTED in it. And true to form... I was completely wrong. OK. Can someone just say something funny before I tear myself another asshole for shits and giggles? Aw well... I do... I promise you... I do vow to make sure that one day I shall enter into a relationship that covers all the weird aspects of my life in a way where you will ALL... COLLECTIVELY... breathe a sigh of relief and say "yeah, that's the one. About farking time". Especially me.

You ALL get me. You all know that I'm strangely free but quietly secretive. I bet not many of you know every little detail of who I am and yet I've heard more than once that you envy my life. How naive are you - ha-ha. And yeah I'm happy to keep it that way. Can't have too many of you knowing that I'm a fruitloop in need of a serious labotomy. I'd much rather you all see that as 'talent' or 'humour'. The truth is... I'm scared.

Now that my baby is leaving home I am entering into a phase of my life that is unknown. There's an element of uncertainty that I just can't get a grasp on. I have no excuses now, life is supposed to start for me and I don't know where, just quietly, to begin.

I run through my past trysts and they seem so... so... adolescent. So... (for want of a better word) skanky. What was I thinking? How... pray tell oh bloggees... do I finally listen to my gut instincts and just, well, AVOID. Oh farked if I know.

To quote a writer that has given me joy for the past 8 weeks but isn't intenstly profound or anything... "I feel so... empty. I don't know what to DO with my life. Do just... CARRY ON? The world is spinning out of control and all I can do is... [insert latest Vikki Stylz momentary craze here]. And that is my life... a series of random efforts to fit in... to someone elses world because it seems just so much better than my own... but I guess that's all part of being me huh?

It's a big deal. Just as my boy is growing up and finding his way, I now feel obligated to do the same. But I'm confidently challenged. I was told the other day that I should train as a consellor... yeah okay granted it was advice given to me by a wonderful friend who, as most of my friends do on a regular basis, was experiencing a moment where they weren't quite in their er... right mind. But apparently I was orsum. I'm not surprised. The one thing I can claim as a talent is the ability to listen, disect and decipher everyone elses issues into a very astute mature piece of advice, that in turn, works out marvellously for them and I'm left trudging home to pick up the pieces of my disshelved world, feeling bitter and pissed off that they get what they want and I am still trawling through my trash. Just like the weekly washing it piles up in the corner of my mind, ignored and purposely avoided... because that's what I do best.

I think I need love. I think I need understanding. I think the reason that even though I have a small but marvellous selection of weird and wonderful beings that I call my besties I still come away from their amazing company feeling slightly short-changed is that... well... I'm alone. I have been for a very long time if I'm being honest with myself. Accepting my life and my world and sure... TOTALLY making the most of every day. But as every day goes by I wish for more. I have my selfish moments... where I take the dream lover fantasy and turn it into a completely self-indulgent time of despair. Forever holding on to the fantasy but never quite believing in the ability.

I am the perfect single female. The life of the party, the quintesential hostess, the picture of a perfect guest (when the woodies haven't catapulted me into psychotic oblivion of course) someones bestest bestie. But they all have their lives, and I'm still me. Still the third wheel, still go home to an empty bed because I choose to, still listen to their problems when inside I am silently screaming. But they don't know because I won't let them - maybe sometimes... Just a little bit... just so they know I'm human but without them thinking I'm not cool. But inside... deep deep inside. I ache. I have for many years and I'm afraid I'm past the point of discovering a cure.

Paracetomol moments.

The temporary relief of pain.

My friends are my nurofen plus. And dull the pain they do but its up to me to find a suitable cure and just quietly... I'm starting to think that perhaps its my journey just to be that pain-killer friend to others, and suffer in silence my own shortcomings.

Sometimes there's a quick blast of internal combustion from me and my god do people freak out about it. It's always a build up of many many things that I've swallowed like a hunk of cardboard because even though I might have gone to a situation with the intention of asking for help... I always divert to the other side. "Enough about me... how are YOU doing?" and those kinds of moments just build up. I guess this is a quiet apology, for all those times where people have thought "holy exorcist batman... where the fark did that 'Regan' impersonation come from????".

It's because I care. About you. About what you think of me. About the fact that I need you in my life for a reason. Like someone who will always be an addict no matter what treatment they get or how reformed they are... I will always need my paracetomol moments. I will always need to be needed by you so that my own problems seem... superficial. So I can deal. So I can continue. So I can get up in the morning and carry on. You have been poinient in my survival. Many many times.

Well none of this was farking funny and for that... I'm truly apologetic, but I'm going through a time in my life of huge change, huge challenge and indescribable lonliness of which I can't articulate, but if you read this, don't feel you haven't done enough or should do more because hey... its not you... its me. And I love you for who you are... I'm just trying to find the love in me.

Aw man.

Life can surely suck more arse than a gay man at a mardi gras sometimes. But tomorrow... I'll wake up and wonder what the fark possessed me to post this shit... but I'll feel better for getting it off my chest and think "well fark... that was SOOO last week".

Today is another day, and make it count I will.

Goodnight my beautiful codeine addicts... and no matter how lonely and unfufilled I feel... I will ALWAYS have your back. Just try and stop me.

Peace out.

Stylz
xxxx