At my aunt's house there are. Her house is gorgeous although it's in the middle of Southern California. They have a gazebo, a pond, a weeping willow, and most importantly, if you leave the window open at night, you can hear the crickets. She has crickets, lots of them. From my window there I can see the weeping willow and the pond, and their road is made of gravel, so there is that satisfying crunching sound as you walk along it, which reminds me so much of my childhood. Nothing feels like gravel under your shoes. It makes you feel as though you're actually getting somewhere. Maybe that's just my opinion though. Who cares. This is my goddamn lj.
I'm so excited. I know something cool is coming up very soon, I just can't place it right now. It's just one of those gut feelings. Today I pretty much slept all day and let my Seratonin deplete itself.
Last week when I was in Martinez these people in a black car drove by and they were bumping the song "Insomnia" by Faithless and I almost had a heart attack. That song is sooo good, it's from hella days ago. Jessica and I saw the video for it on AMP in like 1996, and then I went and bought the CD from Target of all places. I can't believe they even stocked it, I almost went into shock. It must have been doing really well on the charts at that point in time or something. But still, I find that amazing. Sadly, I didn't get to hang out with Fidel today like I thought I would. He and Mya and Emily had dancing lessons. I should probably cry, but I won't. I have too much of a headache to cry. Plus I got to talk to Lauren because I was home so I guess something good comes out of everything.
I want my meds. I want my meds. I want my meds. I want my meds. I find myself not being able to function rationally without them, which makes me wonder: was I as crazy as I am now that I am without them, or was I only slightly crazy before but their absence has driven me completely looney. I guess I wasn't meant to know.
I miss the rooftops. On a night like this they would have been dangerously close to Heaven and I would have been so satisfied that Death could have shown his face and I would have been like, "Bring it on, bitch." Too bad we live in the freaking armpit of the ghetto now. Bastards. And my room is right by the kitchen so whatever hideous concoctions my brother cooks, the scent of them soaks into my pillows. Today he blended chicken Top Ramen with barbecue sauce and god knows what else.
Suddenly I feel so very lonely, and this time I don't think that even a Blow-Pop and the beautiful trance that is playing can help me out of it. The time feels like much later than it is and maybe that's why I feel isolated, but I must realise that the time is NOW. Maybe it's because I surrounded only with things I loathe and every second that passes is every second that I am denied of what I had long ago been promised. I think that I should curl my hair or clean my room or something of that nature so that I don't feel the void inside ever deepening.
You're still breathing but you don't know why
Life's a pity and sometimes you die
You're still breathing but you just can't tell
Don't hold your breath, but the pretty things are going to Hell
I want to go to the cave-place. Or somewhere. Some things really are genetic. My mother was a wander lust and I swore up and down that I loved to be in one spot. Sure, everyone loves having a place that they can call home, and that they can come home to, but not to stay there. I want to travel just like she did. I don't really know that much about her and no one was ready to give up any information. Sometimes, no matter how horrible it seems, I still don't feel like I'm part of this family. I feel like it's my dad and my mom and my brother, and they are all happy and love each other and I am kind of just here. No wonder I write in this thing so often. Because really, it is all I have.
Can't write any longer. The acid taste is way too bad.