I have ten minute before I need to leave for work. The insecurities of my friends are beginning to drive me quite mad. I wrote something while I was strung out and I keep coming back to it. I missed a call today and a class as well. I have nothing important to say really.
So apparently I am doing too many drugs according to the man who knows so much about my life. He informed me of this tragic habit that I have and then you know what he does? He smokes weed. What a fucking hypocrite. I wasn't angry before about the possibility of losing someone close to me over something ridiculously trivial I was mainly just sad, but now I am fucking livid. Who is he to comment on my life. Who in the world does he think he is? He is in no position to tell me which direction to take my life. I don't think I have ever hated him so much. You do not deserve all that I have to offer you.
Alright I am doing this for you. It will give you something to read later when you are freaking out.
I am freaking out. My life decided it would get complicated.
I am in a new apartment though and it is fucking clean and amazing and I think I hear sirens.
I am tired of pretending to care.
Scott and David are leaving when summer hits.
I am not sure how I am going to function without them both especially if Kota keeps on like this.
I made a new daddy today. It was a good feeling.
I get really really sad about strange things but not sad enough about things I should be sad about. There are plenty of things to be despaired about but at most all I can claim is indifference. I just finished reading the stranger and I liked it a lot mainly because the main character I related to quite well. I probably won't end up killing an Arab but eh who knows? I don't even want to admit the things I am actually sad about. I get incredibly wrapped up in such insignificant stuff that when significant things come along I can't even bother to care. I am only seeing the first row of trees and little do I know that there is a whole wide forest. I only feel like this sometimes. The sad part anyway I always seem to be indifferent. I wish I knew how to fix it but anyone I would normally ask for advice is suffering the same thing I am. How frustrating and yet.
In the end it is an eternity of questioning your own beliefs. That is what it is constantly. You make a final admission and then something happens and you are back to questioning everything and anything stable in your life. It is impossibly difficult to have dead people know you don't believe they went anywhere. There they are knocking on your front door, tapping you on the shoulder, pounding down your resistance. It is impossibly difficult to stick to ones beliefs and principles when you are seeing shadows of your dead friends. I stick to my resolve however because the alternatives are unbearable for me. Heaven, Hell, Good, Evil, they are all just words. I can't walk past a mirror these days without shuddering. I am so very cold but sometimes just sometimes I can forget for a minute that I have become so jaded and so frozen to the bone but then I walk past a mirror and I see me. The cold version of myself. The version who hates herself for the beliefs she has created. It has happened before and I imagine with each loss it will happen again and again and again. Until I snap, until I lose control, until I let some else tell me what I believe in. They have become shadows though and I wonder if that is not our fate as well. Forever to roam as shadows haunting, reminding others of what they have lost. Even if there is nothing, even if when death occurs it is the end and there is nothing more, there are always shadows. My shadows are piling up. I am getting so tired of it, so tired of turning around fast enough to catch glimpses but never fast enough to catch them. An eternity of cat and mouse, an eternity of questioning and an eternity of shadows.
I have this inane fear that I will always have tragic loves for some of the guys in my life and then when I actually fall, I won't be able to give anything away because it will already be gone. I got some pretty awesome birthday presents and then some others that make me believe none of my friends know me at all. I need to go to the bookstore but I am sleepy and full of thoughts that make me sick. Sick Sick Sick to my stomach.
I have a productive sense of insomnia or maybe counterproductive. I am awake and not doing anything useful but I am still doing monotonous tasks. My birthday is in three days. I am extremely excited. Things are currently complicated.
All the immoral things I have done, it comforts me to know that I will not suffer for them at all. When I am done with this entire life thing, all I have to look forward to is sleeping forever and that thought excites me. Without the promise of immorality people would not be moral and that is why we have heathen atheists. Oh well society needs to get over it. People need to be good people because life would be easier on everyone, but as it stands people are only good because they are promised entry into a make believe place where you live forever, thank you Peter Pan. Walmart has some of the most ridiculous shirts. I just spent an entire twenty minutes laughing at how stupid they were. I don't doubt people will wear them though. I could go for some coffee right now, but I have school tomorrow and work so i cannot be up all night.
I realized today that I could never be in one of those relationships were people constantly celebrate anniversary's. They don't matter. I can't bring myself to care at all. The same with Valentines day, I just dislike the holiday. I dislike celebrating something like that it just feels fake to me. So I finished reading my book for Lit. It angered me because my favorite character died, like they always do. Also it was filled with infidelity, which ticked me off because the male the girl slept with wasn't even attractive. Not that it would make up for it but come on. Oh well I am forever to be cursed by my favorite person dying. What can I do?
I stumbled in twenty minutes late last night and cried on my stairs unable to move for another ten. I can't take the pressures of growing up.
What class did you miss? read more
on Maybe all i ever was, was a monster