Mark called me Blondie today. I love it when he does that.
And I am getting back to the point where I can't tell if an event took place today or three days ago, it is all one big blur. But something must be up with the universe again, because things are strangely fine.
I am smiling at everyone, and they are smiling back. This skirt that didn't used to fit fits. I got a troll head with green hair for the antenna of my car for free because I bought a Mountain Dew. Andrea and I named it Mrs. Seaverson. That's very cruel, but we are teenagers.
And while I was in Martinez tonight I stopped into Rite Aid and saw Heather, who has an exceedingly cute haircut.
I ate really good over-the-bridge style Chinese food. Chris called and I should call him back tonight. I went to Stefan's and he was doing his homework. I don't think his mom likes me because I just drop in all the time.
I bet she'll hate me when my curfew ceases to exist and we have slumber parties over there all the time.
I get sad during the night time.
I was talking to Stefan about a bunch of crap that didn't really make sense. We somehow got onto the subject of death, and what would happen if I were to die at ten o clock tomorrow morning.
He said it would make him sad, and that he wouldn't let me.
I said that he, and everyone else, would get over it.
And that's what I believe. If I died, there would be an initial sadness, because the routines that I am present in would suddenly contain an empty space. After a little while though, that space would go away, and/or someone or something else would replace it. And everyone would be over it. And they would wonder why they spent so much time keeping me alive. Life is change, and this is how it works.
I suppose I have the capacity to make some people happy. Travis recently told me that I was the shittiest, bitchiest person in the world. This after he told me he loved me more than anything else in the universe. He got over it. Everyone else would too.
Not that I am thinking of killing myself, I'm not. But if I had a choice between living and dying right now, I would choose dying. If something happened where I had to fight to survive, I wouldn't fight.
I know it is selfish, I have been told all this. But I don't think it is that selfish, because I don't think anyone would really be that sad. I bet everyone, if they put their minds to it, could think of something that they hated about me, and end up being glad I was gone.
Honestly, I don't think anyone gives so much as a rat's red asshole about me. I don't even think people would cry at my funeral.
So as I sat in Stefan's darkened room, I thought about all of these things. I almost cried.
But instead I drove home listening to Rasputina.
And now my mind is racing.
And now I can't believe anything I hear or see.