soooo... I guess it's bedtime for Lyla. And btw, I did name myself after the song. My brother's seeing Oasis this summer... I'm so jealous. He got to see Tragically Hip a while back as well... woulda loved to see 'em, wasn't in town. and my cousin scored crazy amazing tickets to a U2 Concert... seriously impossible tickets... anywho, nuff said.

My name isn't really Lyla... and it doesn't even fit me very well...

I'm an ENFP versus an ISTJ (my best friend and my mom are ISTJs)

I'm extroverted (but shy, it's possible) --> basically, i get my energy from people, i prefer to be around people most of the time and I generally don't "need" alone-time, in fact, if i like you, you're stuck with me

i'm intuitive ("N" because "I" was taken for introverted) --> basically, i understand my world in big pictures, in flow, in dynamics, not via my five senses in a logical, scientific way

i'm a feeler (wow, that's messed lingo right there) --> basically, i feel instead of thinking... i remember emotions, i respond to emotions, i empathize in a very personal, deep inside my gut "i feel your pain" kind of way

i'm a perceiver (i perceive great things from afar... not!) --> basically, i haven't got a clue what i'm talking about.

if you care, i=introverted, s=sensing, t=thinking & j=judging (which doesn't =judgmental)

I discovered this about myself via a personality test online. haha. but the profile i looked up was fairly accurate of me. i'm a psych student, so i've read research papers and peer-reviewed scientifically and statistically sound studies that give evidence for breaking down our multifaceted personality traits into these particular categories. the man responsible for this system was Jung. I don't consider myself a Jungian, but Froid was out to lunch, so hey, s'all good.

so anyways... i see lyla as... well, maybe i could be a lyla. i'm the girl who confuses the crap out of you and herself but will love you and protect you and challenge you intensely, make you think and laugh and breathe and dance and go on wild adventures that keep you up until the crack of dawn and you would never take those hours back...

i love touch. i love to feel something solid in my hands, on my fingertips... i am a connoisseur of every food you can imagine... and i have a favourite everything. any category you can think of, i'll have a favourite "that thing you thought of"...

sending my love into cyberspace with mildly appealing sincerity... i hope

I've never blogged before. (likely the most common first sentence of first blogs EVER, but what the heck, i don't pretend to be original)

So life is tough. If you don't know it or don't see it, you will soon.

Life itself can be hard... school, work, friends, family, money, problems, rules, restrictions, necessities...

And I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

I can't complain, really... shouldn't, rather. My life is and has been easy... my world is "perfect" and "simple" and "nice"... I have friends who care about me, I have parents who care about me, a brother and a sister I get along with... I have waaaay too much to be thankful for...

but I've noticed that I fixate on certain people and if they don't approve or accept me, I feel worthless... These certain people are almost exclusively guys, although I think one of the first was Christine. No, I don't think I was in love with her, and I don't think I'm a lesbian. I don't see girls as mates, as lovers... I see them as either buddies or centerfolds, toys, playthings...

Colin moved everything up a level. I held onto his laugh, the memory of his laugh, the idea of his laugh, like a lifeline, like one of those buoyant plastic blow-up rings they throw you when you're drowning.

And Dave... Josh... Sim... Tarek... Tarek means nothing to me. I hate the person I am in that house... I hate the person I become. Who I am here and now is trash. And it matters to me. It matters to me that I'm so hurting and lonely that I'll get off to sex scenes just to numb the pain and dull the reality... Red is less red when you're giving out your back to throw yourself into a miniscule, momentary orgasm... blue is less blue, pink is just the colour of my lipstick, red is just the colour of my hair, blue is just the colour of my eyes... and it means nothing.

I found you when I was waiting for my world to change and hoping that I could hold onto me while grabbing hold of the highest price and the greatest gain... but I can't. I can't keep this life and take his. it doesn't work like that. i don't quite understand what i'm giving up. it was awful. you don't understand! no matter how many times it was confirmed 'you're sexy' 'you're a hot dancer' 'the boys are crazy over you'... it didn't matter. Tarek hadn't made a move (why should he?)... Dave hasn't replied... Sim doesn't care... Josh has forgotten all about me and Colin, well, Colin's engaged and he won't remember my name.

I don't know who i miss or what i miss... i was a simple happy outlook, but i've never had it. i've always been complicated and dreary and cynical, i cling to my words, my medium is the english language and my art form is abstract prose... stream of consciousness... incandescence... mmm... i love that word. 'You are incandescent'.

Go... and... sin... NO MORE!

I want life to taste and feel and smell and sound and look REAL again!!! everything is meaningless... all of it.

I wonder if Solomon was addicted to sex when he wrote Ecclesiastes... it would make a heck of a lotta sense.

I'm not addicted to sex or pornography... I've been healed of that. God is showing me the roots and it's harder than I ever imagined (that's what she said... that one's for joshie) to try to pull them out. It hurts kind of like digging out warts... and if you don't really get rid of it... the problem just gets bigger and more obvious too, I suppose, seeing as you've opened it all up.

It's gotta get worse before it gets better, right?