23:04 - June 02, 2002
losing all meaning
I. Cannot. Have. This. Beaten. Into. The. Ground. Anymore.

I am not shy. She is not a leader. He is not always apathetic. No one should let go. Everyone should let go. What we are, what we were, what we will be, or what we could be? No one sees anyone else in the right way, no one sees themselves in the right way, everyone is scared of themselves, everyone is scared of each other. We will keep in touch. We won't keep in touch. We don't care what anybody else thinks (although obviously we do or we would Not Be Having This Conversation. Does nobody else notice the big stinking pile of irony plop smack in the center of the window?)

If you told everybody what you wanted you'd be in the centre of the most uncomfortable, possibly dangerous, and definitely loneliest moment of your entire life, because everyone would jet out the door in clouds of smoke and never come back. You complain that nobody knows you? Do you really want somebody knowing you, those deep dark areas where you don't know yourself yet? You don't want to smooth it out for the public eye first? You want to spread yourself out on the lab table? Someone once said that you can give everybody everything and still have some for yourself. What he didn't take into account was the fact that by that point nobody would care enough to keep your everything. They'd throw it back, shuddering, then jet. Poof. Congratulations. You're open.

Here is what I want. Everybody can blow it out the shit end. I'm going to be a hermit anyway. Think of this as a fucking scientific experiment.

.......

No.
I can't even begin.

Simply, (written minutes later, after cooling down from huge outburst at no one) I want to be strong enough to handle things without Paxil. I want people to understand my humour enough to want more, but not enough to see through it all and realize it's hollow. I want to have some sort of closure with Erik, though I know it's impossible. I want to see Mike as he is, without being clouded by anything in the way. I want Aubrey to come home and forget everything that happened ever concerning me and be a cute stranger downtown that I can meet again. I want my long hair back. I want to have had sex at some point. I want beautiful eyes. I want to have no reputation, either that or a mysterious reputation that everyone knows about but nobody talks about, or better yet, everyone talks about but nobody knows about. I want to be in love, but have it be complicated and maddening and stupidly dramatic and intense. Or slow and comfy and light; either way.
I want not to have censored that last paragraph until it lost all meaning.

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