A little Piece of me in July

I like: My Friends

Lately, I've been feeling more and more empty, and become lost in the tangled woods of heartache and my own crippling pain. If it weren't for the few true friends I have out there, I wouldn't be here today. the friends who stay up late with me, let me cry on their shoulders and laugh as we watch B grade zombie movies and plan out how we would survive zombie invasions.

I love how we sit there and shout random things, and magically, it becomes a personal joke between us. I love that when I'm with you guys, it feels like everthing just may one day be ok.

I don't like: Silence

The silence has grown and grown, and it's slowly eating away at me. Driving me insane. I don't feel like me anymore, I no longer look at the world with big bright eyes, but now stare at it with bleak absent apathetic lids. I strove for a sign of light, that tiny flickering flame that we instictivey reach out to.

Yet I got too close, and was burned, leaving myself cold and bitter.

Alone with naught but my own screams to keep my company.
Because the silence, is slowly killing me.

I want you to know: I will never let you go, Ever.

No matter how much you shout, no matter how long you ignore me. No matter how many times you tell me I don't understand and that I'm wrong. No matter how many times you hurt me beyond repair.

I will foolishly still Love you.

Because I cannot control what my heart feels.

I've planned: To go to AVCON

Adelaide's Anime and Video game convention, I've had my tickets for a while now, and rest assured there will be future blogs about this. I've got my costume all set up and ready to go all I need now is for the 23rd To roll on around.

I better bunker down and prepare my house with Mountain Dew, and Doritos to make sure the Nerd infestation upon my humble abode is well fed and nourished to avoid any nerdy wrath.

I've seen revenge of the nerds. Dangerous folk.

I want to say to someone special: Nothing.

The silence kills me. But I have promised never to speak. To stay silent.

By the end of this month: I'll probably be in hopital again as they shove a camera down my belly button.

They think I have Endometriosis, a disease where tissue from the inside of the uterus is growing on the outside of it, and has began to function and grow causing abnormal growth and severe pains;

and as a result I have to have Laparoscopy a surgury where a few incisions are made anda camera will be in my belleh. Clearly not as big as the wonderful Nikon SLR pictured above, but still a rather uncomfortable thing I'd imagine.

I want to have kids one day, so this scares me. A part of me wants to have it so I finally know whats wrong with me, another part just doesn't want it at all. It's a small operation, and I've gone for a few operations before but it doesn't stop me from stressing.
It doesn't stop me from being scared.

Then realizing that in my fear, I am alone and have only myself to cling to.

Into the dark corridoor

Imagine a Gynecologist. One of those freaky seedy ones that have their molesty fingers and monstrous gleaming teeth.

Lips curled into a sneer as droplets of salivation drip from his lips to land on a stained poorly buttoned shirt. Definitely one of those guys with their thin hair combed back in a pitiful attempt to cover the sign of early balding. Don’t even get me started on his shoes, all black and shiny. Almost as if they had some sort of cleaning disorder, and spent their Friday nights in front of the fireplace in a rickety old rocking chair. Rocking back and forth.Polishing and Polishing.

Rock.Rock.

Polish. Polish.

Then there was his eyes, wide and bloodshot. Tiny blue hued circles engulfed by widening black pupils. Sags and bags would underline his sunken eyes, whose eyelash length rivaled that of Madonna.

His tall, lanky build made his footsteps seem like he was stalking, always stalking, with long wide light footsteps. Creeping behind you, and lurking behind every corner, hiding behind a chart attached to cold, hard plastic.

“Welcome my dear…”

He would say in a hissed tone, I swear I detected hints of lust, or perhaps he was just hungry. I wouldn’t blame him, he surely looked like he was missing a feed.

I gave him a slight nod and entered into his musty smelling room, light by a single flickering light bulb. I gulped and sat down in a dusty chair, just when was his last patient? 1970? I’d guess 1970, by looking at the faded picture of a kombi van behind him. A dismal attempt to brighten up the place.

He sat in his own, overstuffed chair, its dirtied filling spilling out over split seams. I assume it used to be white. Emphasis on used to be white. Now it was an off grey, almost black. With every slight movement he made, fleck of what I hoped to be dirt would flake off. Although, I swear I saw some of these ‘flecks’ take flight, fleeing the room through the small crack in the air vent high up on the wall. If only my escape were that easy.

My eyes lowered to the name on his desk. ‘Dr Ventura.’ Interesting name, reminds me of Ace Ventura, although if I recall Ace Ventura was a bright friendly chap. The complete opposite of this Troll-like being.

“Now my dear….we have your test results….”

He began, tapping a pen on his desk, giving me a hungry smile. Definitely hungry. I was tempted to pull out the gum that had been wedged in my pocket for the past few days and throw at him, then whilst he was distracted I could perhaps make my getaway. I sighed, and waited for him to continue.

Tick, Tick, Tick

A full two minutes passed before he continued, was that silence on purpose? Or did he fall into some sort of a micro sleep? Surely he’d be old enough to have waltzed with the dinosaurs.

“You will need…a….how shall I say this…Laparoscopy…” he grinned again, followed by a wink. I did not know the intention of a wink. But. I know what Laparoscopy is.Surgery.

Again.

I gave a nod followed by a wave of my hand, signaling that I didn’t’ really care, nor was I phased by this news.

I think I heard Dr. Ventura growl, he clearly felt the stabbing agony of defeat. Perhaps he fed off of fear? Off of worry? My apathetic reaction surely did not please him.

I giggled, the tides had turned. I leaned forward, hands on desk as I flicked a stray cockroach away from me. “Goodbye Dr…” I sneered, as I backed away, and left his dismal office. As his door shut behind me I heard his anguished cry, followed by loud bangs. He was angry, maddened by the thought that he had lost his next victim, too bad for him that this fantasy, this daydream was over.

I looked ahead of me, to see a clear bright corridor, it smelt faintly like frangipanis, and every so often a smiling nurse would pass me, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. I had passed through the gates of another world, another form of hell and had lived.

Because I had the inner strength to do so.
Take that Dr. Ventura.




--
Now, in all honesty, I’ve been in and out of hospital, I did have to see a gynecologist, but he was much, much nicer and friendlier. I DO have to have a Laparoscopy, and I’m not really worried about it. Compared to what I have gone through lately, it seems like nothing. Wish me luck all.
I’m hoping to have the blog reformatted soon, perhaps after surgery~