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The wind is cool on my face. Until I take the fan out of the window. The lights in the hallway are dead-white. Sometimes I think it'll kill me. The bathroom better not smell like vomit again. Fuckers drink more than they can handle, more than they should, too often. I have a hard time respecting them, or the girls that hang all over them, all around the hall. All I can wonder is what they find in each other, except sex and all-too-often empty fun. Hmm... doesn't sound so bad when I put it that way.
Technically, it's 7:36 on the 3rd... but a day on here is defined by whenever I wake up to the time I go to bed. So what if I didn't sleep last night? Do I fuck the whole system?. Should I just skip the 3rd? Or am I behind a day all month? For my whole life? That's just the way it goes. Miss a beat and you're gone. But I was awake for more beats than most... and I still got behind. Yeah, that's how life REALLY is. Catching up just leaves you further behind than when you started.
I love this new Red Hot Chili Peppers CD. Well, it's like a year old but to me it's new. I've been listening to it almost nonstop since I got it. I wouldn't have come across it but Steve always has it on in the apartment. It got to the point where I wanted to listen to the songs anytime I wanted. Now I'm addicted. Or something. I constantly refer to it as being "sexy." Why you ask? Well, quite simply put - because it is. "To readjust you've got to trust that all the fuss is just a minor thing."
The days are all starting to feel the same, everything is blurring into a single experience. Class. Fuck around. Homework... sort of. Think that I should go to sleep. Don't. Oh, and eat - a necessity... though sometimes it's more convenient to just let it go. Listen to music. Wish something was going on. Wish there was something to break up my days, break up my weeks. My life. Something out of place. Unexpected. Something pleasant, preferably. Someone who loves me. Someone who cares. Someone to care about. Something's gotta be out there, someone. There has to be someone looking, too.
It's too early to think about the day ahead of me. It's to early to realize how tired I'm going to be in class. It's too early to say it's almost over. It's too early to take off this towel and put clothes on. Class isn't for another half-hour. It's too early to turn my music up loud - I don't want to be waking up everyone who is lucky enough to still be in bed. I should have not done that stupid math homework last night and just slept. Then I wouldn't remember polar coordinates. And god... that'd be horrible.
Nowhere near me are you - no sound, no look, no feeling could bring you here. But I can wish, I can wish. Close my eyes and imagine you laying in my bed. Hold you and close my eyes, open me up. But here you aren't. Throw trash into the trashcan, no trashbag. Type onto the keyboard, it shows the computer, it shows the monitor, it shows me. A reminder of what I just thought and felt. I reminder of who I am and what I'm missing. I just have to think about something else. I can't watch what I type.
Something like a 10 by 15 room. A chair sitting at my desk, a printer on the floor beside it, then a refrigerator and a nightstand in front of the window. I'd like to leave that space open. I don't have the luxury. Then my bed. Double. Extra-long. Standard college furniture. Then the extra chair that serves as a place for me to put the shit that doesn't fit on my desk or the floor. My environment crammed into a hole in the wall. Everything I need but space. I bet this is something like what zoo animals feel.
How about this for an essay - Waverley is a pussy. He needs to grow some balls or someone should shoot him. He cut off his dick, he rejected the phallus - he's powerless. Everyone realizes that he's just a little girl. He's a fairy who looks at himself, admiring the kilt on his pasty-white legs, then rolls it up a bit, showing some more milky skin. Fergus should have beat his ass and told him to get a life. Flora Mac-Ivor should have told him to grow a dick before he asks her to fuck. I hated that stupid-ass book.
I miss driving around at night, at day. Too fast, windows down. It'd be too cold now to do it, anyhow. Still, I miss it. I miss listning to my music really loud, and singing along at the top of my voice as I sped down the highway. I miss that particular freedom. Sure, I have lots of freedoms here at college, but I'm not sure that I am comfortable using all of them - I feel compelled to attend classes... and I'd consider that a good thing. I don't have to clean my room (it's obvious). But I can't drive.
Please put your tray tables in their upright and locked position. Please fasten your seatbelts. (Please) turn off all electronic devices. We are preparing for liftoff. Prepare to hit the deck as your mind leaves your body behind. Brace yourself. This is not to be taken lightly. There are no safety pamphlets for this. There is no safety. Just illusion. There are no windows behind you so stop looking back so desperately. Please fasten your seatbelt. Please fake a smile. Please accept your fate. Please put your tray table in the upright and locked position. Just fasten your fucking seatbelt.
I can't think of anything to write. (Help me, I'm stuck here.) Silence. (Go away.) I'm bored. (I'm all alone, tell me you miss me.) Silence. (But I don't.) I can't think of anything to say. (I miss you, I wish you were here with me.) Silence. (I don't.) I'm lonely. (There's no one else in this cold, dark world.) Silence. (Stop talking.) I need sleep. (I couldn't sleep if I wanted to.) Silence. (So you going to bed?) Why haven't you said anything? (Please speak.) Silence. (There's nothing to be said.) I'm alone. (I'm alone.) Silence. (Silence.)
Kat, where are you? You haven't been online in the last few days. Last few weeks, even. I want to talk to you. I take that back (not the talking to you part), you were on once... but as soon as I said "hi," you had to go. I wanted to talk. It's okay, though. I know you had a reason and you needed to go. I'm just only really online while you're at school or asleep. But I just want to talk to you. I should email this to you. Tell you I miss you. I hope you smile.
I can hear the words that no one is saying. It's just a recording, it's only in my mind. "I think you're crazy, maybe." I'm all alone in my room but I feel like someone is watching, talking to me, telling me what to do. "Red wine and sleeping pills help me get back to your arms." I can't cry myself a new life, but I think I've probably tried a few times. "Cheap sex and sad films help me get where I belong." There's nowhere left for me. And no one. "I will see you in the next life."
Nothing matters anymore. I could call and yell if I wanted. I could tell you how I felt, how I feel, how you made it that way. I could cry and spill and break and nothing would change. I could pretend that nothing ever happened. I could pretend I always hated you, I could pretend that nothing hurts anymore. I could be a stone, a wall, a brick, a floor. None of that cares. You can walk on the floor. Nothing ever stopped you before. Sometimes the best you can is good enough. Sometimes, it isn't even good at all.
I speak freely, I assume you want to listen, want to speak, talk, converse. I act as if we speak every day, as if we have never seperated or had a lingering wall of silence between us. I phase in and out of existence in the lives of so many people around me. Here I am... there I go. You can't have a real relationship with me, in any sense of the word, and it's probably my fault. Who knows. Who cares? It doesn't matter. Because what is.. is. And why doesn't change what. At least not here or now.
Sleep is a funny thing. It doesn't seem productive beforehand, but when you wake up before your body wants to... because of your damn alarm... you know how worthwhile a few more hours could be, or if you wake up naturally... you're glad you spent all that time in bed. Right now I'm thinking that sleep is just a stupid waste of time, but when that stupid alarm goes off in the morning, I'm going to be wishing I hadn't thought that. All through English class, I'll be wishing I was asleep. And all through Physics, I probably will be.
We used to be such good friends - the best, even. We were together on a daily basis. The world was our inside joke. I hardly know where or who you are anymore. I haven't spoken to you in months. I haven't seen you two consecutive days in two years. I wonder if you're still the same person I knew. Look at us now. We are just those friends that sit around and talk about how they used to be such good friends - the best, even, all the memories that we'll never be able to live again. We're growing up. Apart.
The water stopped flowing. The air laid down and slept. People quit their jobs. There was no love left to fill them up. Stars went out. The sky was black. The moon crashed into Washington and then bounced back to where it belonged. A mother stands alone. Her children are gone. Never again will there be dawn to bring them back home. Doors are locked. Windows boarded shut. No one knows who it was that locked them up and no one has a key. It starts to rain. Lightning, thunder, shudder. All god does is mutter, "I never wanted this."
Hey. How are you doing? Oh? That well? I'm glad. Glad for you for doing so well. I'm just trying to write 100 words. I thought that maybe you could help. Seems that you are doing just that. You're helping me write. Helping me think. Helping me feel. This is all I really want right now, it's all I really need. Between you and the string quartet rendition of "Idioteque" I think I can write an acceptable entry. Acceptable, that is, to me. It's not important that you answer. I got what I needed. Thank you for your silent time.
Sometimes I wonder if I write because I'm lonely, or if I'm lonely because I write. Cause and effect confusion. It seems like so many times when I sit down to write an entry, I just want to talk about something that I'm missing. Someone. Usually a specific someone. But sometimes... sometimes I just want anyone. I just want to love and be loved in return. Not even loved. Just wanted. I want to want. I want to stop having to want. I want to have. I want to give and receive. And I want something else to write about.
All quotes. From lots of different places, people. I just agree with them. Happiness is being numb. I'm not living, I'm just killing time. I don't want to win, I don't want to make them pay, I only want to go my own way at my own speed. Drinking champagne from a paper cup is never quite the same. Give me coffee and TV. She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly. If I had the strength to I would leave you all to your own devices. Where is the love? Where is the love? Come waste your time with me.
Sometimes I find it so hard to motivate myself to do my schoolwork. Sometimes I wonder if I really want to learn. I wonder if it's worth it. I keep thinking that I'm working towards something that I'll really enjoy. But will I? And if I don't? What if it turns out that I hate my life, hate where I'm going and what I'm doing? What prepares you for that sort of thing? Which class? Lecture? Recitation? Was there a seminar on what to do when you realize that your whole life is just fucked? Maybe I slept through it.
So... do you matter or mind? Hmm... I matter. Sure? Absolutely positive. Hmm, okay, I can believe that. What about you? I definately matter - I couldn't mind. Thanks. That was one of the best conversations that I have had in quite a while. It made me smile (all-important), it made me feel good about myself, about the world. It gave me some confidence in humanity. Maybe I should think about who minds and who matters more often. And, arguably more pertinent - whether I mind or matter with respect to everyone around me. The world will be a better place.
You don't have to be complicated, you don't have to be tan like everyone else. You don't need platinum blonde hair. In fact, it just looks fake anyways. Plastic. Some of those "beautiful people" just look fake. Barbie is more realistic. I don't want that. I want someone who looks reasonably natural. You don't have to swear off showers, makeup, deoderant, etc. But don't spend your life trying to be a movie star. Just be loving. Caring. Ready and willing to smile. Give it your all. Live life like it's your last. Because it's the only one you've got, afterall.
Nothing but a dim glow. Just a little light and a little sound, some music. Quiet. Dark. Away, apart, and happy. No one can touch me, no one can see me. No one can hear a sound. Nothing to wonder, no one to bother, never another person around. I can close myself or open me up, whenever I want, for whatever reason I have or even none at all. I can lay in bed and dream or sit up and think about the day that I'm going to have tomorrow, the one I had today. Was it a good one?
Being home is so strange. I'm not sure that it feels like home. It's almost as strange as the first time I was at college, except that I'm not uncomfortable, exactly. It's just weird to have your environment change so wildly, and so suddenly. It's strange to see your mom, your dad, your sister, your dog... your grandmother, everyone. It's strange to have my car back, to be able to drive wherever. And now that I'm home from college, I have more freedom than ever. No one asks when I'll be back, it doesn't matter. I'm an adult. Sort of.
I still think about you, still wonder where you are. I remember when we met. I remember when a lot of things. But I don't remember when you left. Maybe I've blocked it from my mind. The night you died. I'd never be the same. I'd always look at things a little different after that. I'll never really understand. I'll never know exactly where you went, I'll never see you again. But you'll live on in my mind and my heart. Sometimes I think I'm just a shell of what I was. But it's just you. It was always you.
I'm hungry. But I'm tired. And if I eat, I'll want to stay awake. And I won't want to brush my teeth. Which means that later on, when I'm tired again... really tired, I'll have to make myself brush my teeth. And that will suck. So I should sleep. But I'm hungry. I want to go get something to eat. I don't want to brush my teeth and then lay down in bed only to realize that I can't sleep because I'm hungry. These are problems that most people in the world don't understand. And for that, I'm sorry.
Innocent. Unsuspecting. Never expecting. Doubtful you ever saw anything coming. Anything. The world is a box of chocolates. A field of flowers. Everything lives forever or at least goes to heaven - a better place. Some sort of improvement on this perfect world that you live in. Big eyes. Big innocent eyes. Big eyes and you can't see what's coming right for you. You never see anything. Big blind eyes and a big empty smile. You'll have that stupid grin until the day you die, like a vegetable, only more pathetic because you have a choice. You are just innocent (euphemism).
It was refreshing to see you - to know that you still exist, and to hold you for a quick second. You didn't have to speak or smile, didn't have to look at or touch me, you just had to be there. And when you smiled, I smiled, too. I'll see you again as soon as I can, but until then I'll just remember how you looked that night, how it felt to smile with you. It's hard to think that you can affect me in such a large way with such little things. Well, maybe for others... not for me.
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