yesterday i was talking to her on the phone at gabe's house, with several random people sitting around the living room. i always get really happy and excited when i talk to donna and as i laughed giddily i realized that the people in the room had never seen me act like that, had never seen me talk to someone i really love, when i almost rise out of my body into some shared electricity. i wondered if they noticed.

"i had a dream. we were together in my dream. we were brother and sister, mother and father, wife and husband. and...both of us were both..." -the princess and the warrior

after i hung up i had a wonderful evening, and i thought maybe talking to her had given me the energy that i usually lack when i'm around people. like a jump start. i stayed completely sober while those around me became more and more drunk. a few people tripped on dxm. the gem of my evening was when one of them said, "why are we perched on the edge of the prairie?" it had that alliterative/associative rhythm typical of things people think of on dissociatives. it was kind of funny how i was the only sober one there, but i hate drinking. i guess i've been completely sober for the past 3 weeks, except for drinking twice, but i usually don't participate much in parties, but last night i did. i stayed up until 5 am, lying in bed with a bunch of people talking about things. then i slept for 2 hours, when lance came in at 7 am and wouldn't stop talking to me, so i couldn't sleep.

we all went out for breakfast at maria's cafe on franklin, which serves south american food. we were all sleep deprived and dirty. weston left his cat stevens cd as part of the tip, and the waitress ran out after us and said, in her cute latin american accent, "is this for me? i love cat stevens!"

gabe likes to sensuously touch me all over while i lie there ignoring him. (well, maybe he'd like it better if i responded, but it's a compromise.) he said, "your indifference makes me kind of ashamed of my sexual desire, but shame can be arousing too..." the implications of that are just scary. with all the human contact i had last night i think i lost one or two layers of skin.

talking to donna on the phone, i am aware of the various unpleasant things about her situation: the hellish things sam puts her through and the ickyness of being in redding, california and working for republican campaigns, but i still would go there in a heartbeat if i could. (and i will. soon.) there's something about her (and sam, although i don't know him as well) that fits with me, like we're part of the same thing, we interact with the world in the same way. it feels like home-- real home. i'd rather be in hell with those two than heaven with anyone else...

the problem with loving things is that then you have to learn to live without them. i'm afraid of change because i love things so much.