11:39 - October 27, 2002
completely confused
Sometimes being with him makes me lonelier than I would be had I just stayed by myself all day. There is something important missing in him. The way he wanders away automatically after anything is finished, the finality in his motions, the carelessness.
It might be different if he never came around and suggested things to do and had all these strange ambitions and actually, when you think about it, talks quite a lot, - although it doesn't seem like it because after you've listened you realize you don't know any more than you did before - and is casually amiable in the sense that he'll show up and want to hang out. In other words, if he were reclusive, and stayed away, it wouldn't be so bad. Everything about him screams 'reclusive'; body language, everything, the lack of any continuity or planning or caring about other people, yet he shows up in my room talking, and he's smart, and interesting, and I'd even go so far as to say fun when he's not staring blankly at something I've been joking about. But when he leaves you're left with less than you had before. Less of everything.

So he's gone and I'm left with less of everything, less of the happiness I had today drawing at Boulder Creek, less of the drunkenness I acquired when my roommate poured me some weird chocolate alcoholic thing and I absentmindedly drank it all, less of feeling carefree and like I had friends, everything.

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You should know that I wrote all of that last night and had to stop when he came back into my room and said he couldn't sleep. Now it is the time it says on the timestamp. Then it was Oct. 26, 21:20. He fell asleep in my roommate's bed and I dreamed that I had tested positive for throat cancer and only had two years to live, at the most. My dream was so like reality that I woke up several times within the dream and realized that I didn't actually have throat cancer, only to find out, within that dream, that I did. It was incurable. 'I probably won't make it to 25,' I would go around crying to people, who never knew what to say to me and would just kiss my cheek as I cried. The setting was this college, though the rooms were all mixed up and I could never find mine, and it turned out our hallway opened up into the second floor of the UMC, but despite all that I'm still unclear on what I dreamed and what actually happened last night. For example:

My roommate came home and stood in the middle of the room saying something to him, still asleep on her bed, and when she'd gone I got up and stood next to her bunk, asking him, 'what did she say? what did she say?' but he had fallen back asleep and couldn't answer me.
He woke up before me, at 9 to my 12, and gave my pillow back, then left with his djembe and book. I'm pretty sure this was a dream, as my pillow is still atop Ashley's bed and the djembe is still in the middle of the room; however, the book is gone and so is he.
Someone got electrocuted from trying to eat sushi underwater listening to their Discman. (We can guess this one pretty well.)

So I'm not quite sure where I am and whether I've told anyone, in real life, that I've got throat cancer, and if I have I'd better go straighten them out. But it's still so real to me I don't know if I'm going to wake up, again, in my bed, freezing because everyone else said my room was like a furnace so I opened the windows, wondering what the fuck is going on, much like I am right now.

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