It's always darkest before the dawn

Every time that I went to make an entry, I stopped leaving it half finished. I have about five of them on my desktop. I usually cut and paste entries to my journal. I think that things have blown over and even if they have not entirely, I am no longer allowing myself to be the butt or to wallow unduly. Over it. Family has been bonkers these past couple of weeks in a significantly energy-draining way. I just would get to the end of the day and scarcely have the desire to do anything but read, practice mindlessly, or attempt to write. Then I had the house all to myself for nearly three days. It was BLISS. I came and went, worked, got off work, fixed supper, read, talked to the walls, watched a show, practiced in peace. I made ludicrous amounts of progress on a story I have been working on since Summer 2013. But come that Friday....:S This was last Friday. By Saturday, I wanted to scream and hurl breakable objects. It takes a considerable amount of prolonged irritation to get me to that state. I doubt that the powerful contrast of being left in relative peace followed by being torn to pieces by tension and arguing helped any.

So there's that. I'll got into somewhat more detail about it later. Meanwhile, I am terribly behind in posting pics. So here are some of those of things around the town where I live.

( Pics, cut to spare your feed )

So there is some of my life in photos. I will blablabla more later.

...including some Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell gushing. Has anyone read that book? It's a magnificent door stop that I am in the process of rereading. BBC made it into a seven part series!! It will be on BBC America in June, but if you have access to iPlayer/live overseas it is running right now on BBC One. Not sure how faithful it will be to the book, but it is afterall an adaptation as are all screenplays based on books and if nothing else, it is eye candy of the highest order and faintly ridiculous.

( Doctor Who Babble. Feel free to skip. :) )

I am trying to learn another bit of music and finding lettering and letters annoying. It's like no matter how many times I read a piece of music, the letters never quite stick. I have this problem with dictionaries, iPod lists where the artists are alphabetized (which is generally how that works), foreign language syllabaries. If I color the notes, I never mistake what they are.
(More on that and my funny brain in another post). I can be scrolling through my iTunes library for something and I will go right past it, like I don't even see it even though I was obviously looking right at it.

Family is sort of better, and sort of difficult.Likening it to a cut healing where it itches in the meantime whilst getting slowly better. My family isn't stinging or painful, but it itches a little. I hope it's itching and not something else.

My LJ turned twelve on May the 1st!
Wow. Seems like an obscenely long time ago!

I have things to do, fun things, good things and I want to do them, but I have been binge watching instead. :S

The other night I sat out on my balcony and watched the light fade. It took about an hour. I noticed that the breeze would ruffle the leaves on certain trees, but not their near neighbors even though the leaves on those trees were not any heavier. But then it would ruffle the leaves aways away like it was skipping over certain trees. Like little micro breezes. It seems that the smaller a system like that gets, the less apparently predictable it becomes. Ever wonder why that is? Some folks cite math, but I think it's energy. The breeze must be following a certain path for a reason.

Need to redo the hummingbird feeder and set the coffee maker for the morning.

I will leave you with an odd tune that I have been obsessively listening to: Plans by Grizzly Bear.

P.S: It's a Full Moon!

Just left a possibly, stupidly long quotey comment on my friend's A03. I think that I wound up mostly quoting and gushing and scarcely leaving any (to my mind) insightful or useful commentary. I am blaming my period brain. I read it a couple of days ago. But I have been too tired to formulate a coherent response. Haha, so this was slightly less incoherent than what it would have been had I commented yesterday or the day before, only every so slightly...
Fuck, I love her stories. There is only the now and all it affords you to feel in explosive colors that bleed out of you in the hopes of touching others.

There is a lovely breeze out. The relative temperature (relative to wherever you happen to be: the grass, the pavement, the patio all vary by degrees) outside is warm, but it is still nice. I am longing for a storm, for dampness. That would make my life right now. I realize why the change is so comforting, apart from it being what I was born into, what I am used to, what I grew up with. There is so much (more) sensation in a storm, the drop of the barometer, the accumulation of moisture that you can feel and smell on the surface of your skin, inside your nostrils, caressing the airways of your lungs. And standing in the rain with all of your free nerve endings alight with the cool droplets pouring down from the sky, rolls of thunder in your ears, flashes of lighting bouncing off your retinas. Wow. I miss it. I never thought directly about it, but it is an enveloping sensory experience.
Fuck science, really, except for its capacity to afford one yet another pathway for expression. That is what I will use it for. I sincerely hope that no one mistakes me for a true devotee. I am tied down to no belief system, be it outwardly, purportedly religious or vapidly, misleadingly, fallaciously factual in nature. In nature. What the fuck do they know about nature in their ever pressing need to dissect it and lay out all of the bits for further, cold-blooded probing? I believe in the web of life, the interconnectivity of the universe, and in magic. And rainstorms.


In other news...lady parts are stabbing me (but not as much in the feels, it's more strictly physical, thank gods) , Colin is mopey because he seems vaguely dissatisfied/tired and I think it is because he is exhausting himself with theatre and trying to avoid home so much it hurts. I would like him to feel more comfortable (even with nagging grandparents) and to feel safe here. I know that someone like him treats home as a temple and if it can't be, he tends to fall apart a bit. He needs it. We all need it. You can't always be flinging yourself here and there willy nilly. Not even the most outlandish of extroverts can manage that. I told him that I did not want him going into the city alone to see the Front Bottoms, one of his favorite bands. A friend was supposed to go, but she punked out on him. It is not all dire though. Yesterday we went to see Begin Again again and Colin met us after outside the theatre and for a moment everyone looked happy to be in each others' presence(s). That film though....it completes me. XD It was even better the second time around. Just....incredible.

Colin wants to see it again so I will have to take him or give him some money to go see it with someone. Hmm.

I don't often see people with as wide an array of facial expressions as me. What's weirder is when they seem to possess the same ones. o_O This is just random gifs on the internet, nobody around here. Or have you ever encountered people (am I actually addressing questions to my blog now?) who have a rather similar life path, upbringing, sort of only in an odd reversed mirror image sort of way? ...like they moved or did things at around the same age, or grew up someplace wintry and defined by it and you grew up someplace where it didn't ever exist and you longed for it because you glimpsed it in picture books and they wished for the things, conversely, that you had in abundance where snow never touched the ground, a brisk chill never kissed the air? But there are uniting factors like being an only child, the observer. It's like they could be your mirror twin. Only NOT. Yeah, uh. Severe babbling. Bad. Bad. Must stop. Pay no attention to the complete freak behind the curtain...this has nothing the hell to do with anything. Any resemblance to...is purely blablabla etc.

Oh and, Colin said the other day that I am the most awkward person that he knows. WHUT?

I feel like a fool for wanting little quiet, happy moments and perhaps I am making a big deal of it, but I can't stand it when he is just lying there in his room, clearly moping and feeling sorry for himself. I am allowing him to get away with it for about another hour or two before I need to make dinner and then he is talking to me whether he likes it or not. This is ridiculous. He is trying to learn six new songs in a short period of time and I can tell that he is receding in the face of feared failure. His room is a disaster zone, again. He is just settled morosely in bed amidst a cluttered sea of his haphazard possessions. It's the perfect stereotype of teenage angst. Perhaps drama is as drama does. STILL. :S

Meanwhile, amidst my ravings I have the bonkers/impossible schedule this week. Need to cram info for Exam 5 and then turn around and review for the final that occurs on the very next day. I was planning to review more this weekend, but it got away from me. I was also so tired. I am so tired. Urrghh.