your body's got a feeling that it's starting to rust

Lying in your bed and on a Saturday night
You're sweatin' buckets and it's not even hot
But your brain has got the message
And it's sending it out
To every nerve and every muscle you've got



Surrounded by oddity and I'm trying to breathe. The electrified trilobites crawl over my feet, the translucent chartreuse shrimp scuttles slowly towards the far shore. Strawberries lazily turn in midair. I try to remember why I came here.

I already know why I came here alone.

You've got so many dreams
That you don't know where to put 'em
So you'd better turn a few of 'em loose
Your body's got a feeling that it's starting to rust
You'd better rev it up and put it to use



New Caerleon is the province of more than one artist, and the reason I came, originally, is that someone in one of my groups mentioned a freebie goose. To be plainer, an "excessively large primmy free Canadian goose".

And I don't know how I ever thought that I could make it all alone
When you only make it better
And it better be tonight
And we'll fly away on those angel wings of chrome in your daddy's car
Waiting there for you tonight
I'll be there for you tonight



In fact, when I got here, that's what the box said, and they're not kidding--examples float in the air nearby, gently turning. Like matchsticks heated to burning, suspended in a gravity wave, they hang--one hundred and eighty-six prims worth, each, of "excessively large primmy free Canadian goose".

Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And your speed
Is all you'll ever need
All you'll ever need to know
Darlin', Darlin'--

Odd little crackles behind me, wind turning into low doleful ringing tones...beautiful as it is here, this place is not improving my mood. I make the decision to relocate.

It probably won't help.



I'm writing for the Metaverse Messenger now, and until today, was fairly happy with that. But between last week's original story being pulled (not by them or me, but by the subject of the article), and my being asked to rewrite a story according to guidelines I was never told about to begin with...

I mean, I turned in the story by deadline, three pages, rife with human interest and rich with description.

Now? It's a press release. I might as well have not gone to the place at all. I could've turned that in with information on a notecard.

You and me we're goin' nowhere slowly
And we've gotta get away from the past
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast



I mentioned yesterday that W&M Designs is having a beach ball hunt. After gathering up a shell necklace, a wading pool, two t-shirts, and a beach towel--the beach towel being the only dragon-related item so far--I gave up and came to sit and watch the water.

It seems to be helping. Which is good. I don't want this feeling of helpless loss all day. I want to rise above feeling crushed by the pressure of life, and choices, and regrets, and interactions.

Everybody's goin' nowhere slowly
They're only fighting for the chance to be last
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast
It's so much better goin' nowhere fast

But it's difficult. Multiple blows make me more tender than I'd hoped. Hit me once, I bounce back. Hit me twice, I bounce back. Spend the week arguing with me, well...I'm not bouncing back as easily.



And four days, four days I've held off making this point. Held off in the hopes the loves would stop arguing with each other and me, held off in the hopes that things would resolve, held off in the hopes that somehow, from somewhere, I'll get breathing space.



Stalkin' in the shadows by the light of the moon
It's like a prison and the night is a cell
Goin' anywhere has gotta be heaven tonight
'Cause stayin' here has gotta be hell



Maybe it's just not there right now. Maybe it's better to admit it, and fling into limbo for a while, willingly. Spend a day or two, or more...away from the grid.

Dyin' in the city like a fire on the water
Let's go runnin' on the back of the wind
There's gotta be some action on the face of the earth
And I've gotta see your face once again



But I have very few words to talk about this, as usual. Put me in a crowd, I can charm with the best of them. I have turned groups of strangers into at least happily chatting acquaintances; I've smoothed tension into humor (when I'm not inadvertently ramping the tension up) on more than one occasion. I have no ego about this; it's part and parcel of what I do, who I am.

But hurt me...well. I still can't talk about it freely. I still struggle against discussing what's close, what's personal. I don't want people to see me hurting. It's just who I am.

And I don't know where I ever got the bright idea that I was cool
So alone and independent
But I'm depending on you now
And you'll always be the only thing that I just can't be without
And I'm out for you tonight
I'm comin' out for you tonight



Maybe it's another test. Maybe I'm supposed to learn that silence doesn't equal death.

If so, I may have to take more blows to get there...

Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll (ready to roll)
Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And your speed
Is all you'll ever need
All you'll ever need to know
Darlin', Darlin'--



But I don't give up. For good or ill, pain or joy, I don't give up. Tenacity wraps my bones. Sometimes I try, long beyond any hope of salvation, redemption or future joy.

So I'm not giving up now. I'm not, I refuse, it won't happen. I get through this. I will get through this.

It's just been a bad week.



You and me we're goin' nowhere slowly
And we've gotta get away from the past
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast

So I'm breathing, now, enjoying quiet places, idly fishing, idly sitting. I've spent much of today alone. It hurts as much as it helps, but right now, it's necessary.

The only drawback is I'm now worrying those I love. They're not used to me being this fragile.

Well, neither am I. But I won't be here always. Tomorrow, the day after, the week after, the pressure will lift and everything will be fine.

That's the hope I'm clinging to.



Everybody's goin' nowhere slowly
They're only fighting for the chance to be last
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast
It's so much better goin' nowhere fast

In the meantime, occupation, breathing space, alone time when I need it. Maybe I'll make a dress or two this week. Rework some eyes. Occupation.

It's going to become more important, I think.



Finally, is Harquire stockpiling weapons to attack other sims? (Click the small version to see the larger capture.) I know it's not so--according to Winter, they're actually floating "FOR SALE" blimps--but it just looks odd. And somewhat amusing.

Godspeed
Godspeed
Godspeed, speed us away...

(Song is Fire Inc.'s Nowhere Fast from Streets of Fire. I've probably used it before.)