tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262917192009-10-13T16:06:26.891-07:00"We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are." -- Anais NinLayla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-46859899718214852982008-11-25T18:14:00.000-08:002008-11-25T18:51:45.192-08:00

It's been a couple of years since I stopped blogging here regularly, deleted the old content, and became a sparse if not completely non-existent contributor to the blogiverse. Luckily, some of my friends saved the content for me and e-mailed it to me after it was deleted, so at least it's there for me to look back upon, even though everyone else is shit out of luck. The last couple of years were

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-2999712860016966222008-10-26T22:08:00.001-07:002008-10-26T22:10:34.741-07:00

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-69986889783835969492007-05-22T05:11:00.000-07:002007-05-22T05:45:31.144-07:00

It's 7 am, and I am, at this time, smoking a cigarette, petting my kitty (no, not that one), waiting out an alcohol buzz that is slowly (but not slowly enough) dissipating, and awaiting my second one-hour session with my therapist, which I can't cancel this time, because I already did that last week. The Boy is asleep in the other room - when I left him in there, he was mumbling unintelligible

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-24241176166916089282007-04-25T21:55:00.000-07:002007-04-25T22:05:17.807-07:00

This seems to be where I write best. Yet I rarely ever write here anymore...Someone give me a kick in the ass to make me remember how great it felt to be a blogger all those years ago. I miss the girl who produced multiple posts every day...Any suggestions as to how I might revive her? She's been in a coma for quite some time, but, somewhere in there, she knows she wants to come back...Anyhow -

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-20833719785615042492007-02-09T20:10:00.000-08:002007-02-09T20:08:11.910-08:00

It's been one amazingly eventful year, in terms of both ups and downs, milestones and setbacks, but I think the defining moment of the last year of my life had to have been turning 25 a couple of weeks ago. My "I'm turning 25" psychological crisis began about three weeks prior to my birthday, and included a couple (yes, only a couple, truly) of hangovers of the type and severity I hadn't been

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-1160372776074681952006-10-08T22:33:00.000-07:002006-10-08T22:46:16.090-07:00

It's impossible to love the life you've always wanted with the person you've always dreamed of when you figure out that even the perfect is tarnished and even the attained dream consists of moments that make you wish you could wake up, because when everything seems right, something has to be wrong. It's inevitable. So we must grow to expect it, accept it, and get used to loving it anyway. We're

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-1158506505760504142006-09-17T07:50:00.000-07:002006-09-17T08:21:45.773-07:00

A place I always come back to. Stepping into skin that doesn't exist. A name that has no meaning, even to me. At the moment I am being Layla, but only because I am typing in this location. In life, I am not Layla. I once thought I was - perhaps I was right, for a moment or two. But right now, I can barely remember who Layla was or why I became her. And I don't know that I want to. Remembering can

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-1145464653946746522006-04-19T09:19:00.000-07:002006-04-19T09:38:09.466-07:00

The Boy gave me a goodbye kiss and went to work this morning; he always wakes me for that kiss, and I always notice, even if I'm still sound asleep. Today I was more coherent than usual, having fallen asleep around 11:00 last night. So I grabbed his pillows, used them instead of my own, and lay awake in the bliss of a silent apartment (silent except for, of course, the sound of two kitties

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-1145394257660398462006-04-18T13:57:00.000-07:002006-04-18T14:04:17.666-07:00

I was stuck in the nightmarish realm of my subconcious from about 2:00 am until 3:00 pm today, as I slept and repeatedly, unsuccesfully, tried to wake. The nightmares centered upon a location that used to pretty much be the center of my existence, though in the dream, the building was much different, as well as the city the place was located. Basically, it was a slaughterfest. People I had

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-1145318545153042162006-04-17T16:56:00.000-07:002006-04-17T17:02:25.163-07:00

Because I'm far too curious, I googled "Layla X" to see if my old blog had been referred to anywhere. I came upon this. It's always interesting to see how people perceive you. I had never thought of myself as such a downer. I guess we can never really see ourselves the way others see us...different lifestyles, different backgrounds, different beliefs all factor into how we see other people.

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-1145315255217844882006-04-17T15:53:00.000-07:002006-04-17T16:08:22.023-07:00

One year ago tonight I was slumped on my couch, having to use my chin to push buttons on my phone to try to call a friend for help after I snorted a pile of what turned out to be (and this has finally been confirmed, after much confusion) heroin. It was my low point. A disaster of my own making. Two days earlier, I'd conceived a child with a shitbag that I loved, and didn't know it. Two months

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-1145306326744152452006-04-17T13:31:00.000-07:002007-05-22T05:43:44.892-07:00

is with The Boy:I've been with him for about 5 and a half months, and he hasn't been anything short of wonderful. It's nice to have found someone who is so much like me that he understands my mini-breakdowns, or even my major ones, and knows exactly what to do to calm or comfort me, whether it be with a big bear hug, or by making me laugh, or by simply giving me space and time to cool off. Yes,

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26291719.post-1145260905686382552006-04-17T00:54:00.000-07:002006-04-17T01:30:42.950-07:00

And what better time than Easter? Yes, that's right, I'm back. So to all of you who missed this blog, formerly known as "Layla X: Diary of a Deviant" and then "Layla: Diary of a Life in Progress," before I killed it altogether...you're in luck because this address is the only location that seems to ignite my desire to write. I might not post often, but bear with me...I've been gone for awhile and

Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer)http://www.blogger.com/profile/03219913917438768566noreply@blogger.com0