|Sunday, June 2nd, 2002|
11:26a - Please Don't Fail Me
It's all set. I am taking the flight to San Diego, my mother asked my father, and he submitted. She understands how important this all is.
I'm going to Jessica's recital today, where she is dancing to the likes of smooth criminal. It will be wonderful, not only because it's the original version and not that damn AAF cover, but because she's got rhythm.
I keep having horrible nightmares, and dreams so strange I wake up breathing funny, and then a few scant minutes later I can't remember what they were about, which puts me in the weird position of confusing real-life memories with dreams. It's really off-putting.
I want to be mean and rude to people. I want to put up an away message whenever I am on my computer that says something like, "Fuck off. I have more important things to do than talk to you. I'm nice to you because it makes things easy, but in all truth, I don't like, respect, or care to talk to you. Please leave me alone."
But I can't do anything like that, because it's not meant for everyone.
The people that come in carefully with surgical equipment to extract me from my shell, I like them. That is a select group.
The people that bite and slobber on the edges of my shell and try to break it open to get me out... well, I have no patience for them. They can go bite and slobber on someone else.
I put in my journal to be reviewed like a month ago, and to no avail. Almost everyone in front of, and behind me, has been reviewed, but I have none. That should be my name. "Hello, I'm Ihavenone. Since you know pretty much everything about me now, you should run along. I have nothing to offer."
I don't want to put in a second request, because now that I've seen the kind of people that they review, I know that I would have positively no chance of making a good score. Some of the reviewers are brutal!
Maybe I'll start introducing myself like that... just a thought.
I need to save up money to get my tattoos, and to change my name legally. I can't decide between two names I've been going by for a few years though.
Something in my mouth is bleeding, and I think it's my tongue. It's making me feel really ill, but I can't do anything about it. Maybe I'll bleed to death.
Dear god, will someone please take me out of this? I'm in such a bad place. I'm in my old rut, you know the one. The one where I'm loving people and it's entirely unreciprocated. I want to leave the house, but there is no one to play with. I want to be a child, but I am being forced to grow old.
There is no cottage cheese on my ceiling.
*I can't go to Stefan's, his cottage cheese is covered by posters.
*I can't go to Mya's, we never just lay down and look at the ceiling.
*I can't go to Jessica's, she has Chris now.
*I can't go to Lindsay's, I can't even talk to her anymore.
I feel like she is a stranger and that she doesn't like me, and that I don't know her. I never knew her. She has this whole other life, and if we're lucky we talk once a week. I want a fresh start. I want to move somewhere where nobody knows me, and I can buy some dumpy, rickety old house, and only pay for electricity and water.
I will be that lady who gets care packages occasionally and makes the $100 therein last for months.. I won't do anything except sit on my porch and stare off into space. I think I'll go to Mississippi.
Maybe I will just walk off into a different place and sleep on the side of the road. Being homeless doesn't seem so bad. I just need a big bag.
It's no secret, I just don't talk about it. I can't stand being alive, or looking at myself living in my own skin. Happiness feels nothing but artificial anymore. I feel like when I'm saying something will be good, or fun, that I am lying.
All I do anymore is stay in bed all day and think about things that needn't be thought of. I don't eat anything nutritious, and when I do, I take in so much all at once that I get sick.
My teeth are rotting out of my head, and I am growing jaded and cold.
There are certain people, the closest ones, who I can't even talk to anymore without feeling violently wronged.
They interrupt me.
They push and pull me in directions that feel wrong.
They make me want to scream and tear my hair out.
I am quitting all of this.
I don't like to use the 'd' word, but there it is.
current mood: fucked