loneliness influences everything

this may be a mostly illogical, irrational, selfish entry...

it sometimes frustrates me that I allowed this body I live in to deteriorate from the ideal condition and health it was and could be in... I still can run a few miles, though the pace is much more a slow jog (10 minute miles) than a run... once upon a time I has smooth, even skin, no blemishes, and days in the sun would coat this body in a creamy bronze coloring... years of spending little time in the sun has pooled the melatonine (oe is that melanin?) into what are euphamistically called beauty marks, many around my neck, enough so that they appear to be a constellation of some sort if we played connect the dots... my face, once amazingly blemish-free (while most were doing battle with zits and whatever) seems much more prone to pimples and stuff (maybe because I stopped putting my face and head under steamy hot showers twice a day, which also contributed to the pooling of the pigments, I think)... and the abs are sagging more often as I indudge my taste buds and love of food...

but none of this would bother me if I was not lonely... not that I am satisfied with a flabby or sagging body (and hopefully I'll not slide that far along in my meandering down the apathetic trails I explore too often these days), for that, to me, is just giving up on living a physical life and wasting the power and passion available to most of us... and I consider my hair, now very long by any gender standards (lower back) and how many different things I can do with it (because it has natural waves and curls that can be styled in ways that most people have to pay big bucks for), but I just let it frizz and flail and again (remember the logic being used here), be as unappealing and repulsive as possible...

my point here is that loneliness influences my perspective so much, everything imperfect (or much more accurately, not as I can be) seems to glare at and mock me... cuz I know I can be healthier... I know that this bothered feeling is irrational (except for the wanting to be healthier part) and will mostly disappear when loneliness abates, but it is still bothersome for the moment... when not lonely, appearances matter, but do not influence how I feel... and when loved and in love, everything feels, and appears, so very beautiful to me...

lazing on a Sunday afternoon...

and along the same lines, at moments like these, it so frustrates me that all the people I list as favorites do not list me as a favorite (and as you already know, I am vulnerable to feeling completely awful when someone who has listed me as a favorite decides to delete me)... foolish thoughts about my not being good enough, not being clever or witty or talented enough come to mind... but worse (and here is where the loneliness plays it's trump card), the feeling that I am unattractive (at least not attractive enough for you to call a favorite diary) brings me down and drags me through the muck and mire of past mistakes and all the hurts I've found along the way... popularity only matters to me when I am in the murky grasp of the demon loneliness...

I did mention this is may be a most illogical, irrational, and selfish entry, didn't I?

and maybe you remember that I have lost everything (people, material, everything) along the way (more than once) and there too the loneliness raises it's skewed head... so it is way too easy to find good reasons not to trust and to push people away... though I never meant any harm and live my life dedicated to doing as little harm as possible (to extremes most would consider over-sensitive or meaningless), the thought that maybe I deserve the betrayals, abuses, and losses I have suffered comes out of the dark abyss of silence as I leave myself vulnerably open to any slight light of caring and love that might come out of the void, or you, the world...

yeah, that's rational too, just like the appearance thought...

that I ramble on too much and lose many of you was one impetus for giving funda a life, for there are succinct statements that can be made (it is not just all about the babble, just cuz I am so much of the time)... and why I have another journals for daily life babbling loneliness influenced the creation of my other diaries as well, for laments such as this have no real place repeating over and over in this idyllic world of words I seek to create for candora, so when I feel these dark holes calling from the mostly dead parts of me, I go there... but obviously (or hopefully obviously) I do not wish to create a false impression of myself as candora, so I allow these personal (whether euphoric or whining) rambles out here from time to time when it seems to fit for me...

I read about wonderful physical passions and see inspiring openness (and optimism) and intense hungers and I wish I could convey how close the words touch me and how much I want... how lonely not sharing can feel...

so this is a lonely entry, maybe the lonely entry (and perhaps not yet done), for candora... for loneliness has been both friend and foe for me from my earliest memories... but more likely I'll remember to go elsewhere to whine like this in the future... and now, with a few loads of laundry calling for starting, drying, and folding and the toob tempting tears by telling me The Rose is coming up next, I shall follow one of my less noticed muses, Garfield, and eat some lasagna and then, we shall see what shall be...

candora

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NOTE: Due to excessive comment SPAM, comments have been turned off... ironically, this month is the renewal for supergold membership and the comments feature... bad timing... you know how much I love feedback, so maybe there's be comments again one of these days... until then, please leave a note... thanks J