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7:35 p.m. - September 01, 2001
wheedle?
Pleading expressionless complaining clear angry/carefree laughing innocent ticklish/sensitive wild offbeat/insane broad expressive psycho/ watchful polite honest/sardonic sassy sloppy/whining complacent/wound up open happy/jumpy matte religious/goofy flirtatious smooth radiant. My friends' respective descriptions as of the beginning of junior year, separated by '/'. Why do I dwell on the past? It can be noted that much of what I post here is nostalgic; more remembrance than day-to-day present. It's mostly buried, but I can think of two reasons: A) I kept a very minimal diary during this period and want to have a chronicle. Purely selfish, and B) I'm frighteningly stagnant right now. Nothing going on never bothered me, but at the moment nothing is going on, plus my head is blank most of the time. I'm busy, but nothing of significance. I'm social, but nothing of importance. That's a lie; it is important. Everything is. The two parties I went to to see Luke's band, All For None, the wild moshing, the connections I made there, marching band and the laid-back exhaustion of our eyes in the bleachers, the fight song that nobody knows the words to. Camille and I lately going out to dinner and escaping the pressure of trying to put up a front. It's all important. Never say it isn't.

But I'm just lacking the intensity I'm used to. I don't really have a deep connection with anyone anymore, and I miss that more than I can articulate here to people who I either already know and would have had a connection with already if it were meant to be, or people who I don't know and quite conceivably live in other states or countries and who I'll never know, period. Everyone's gone. T.'s taken off for points unknown, and I'm wary of E. lately. Those are the only two I've ever felt I've really had it with. Possibly W., before we stopped speaking. C. and I have our moments, but we have never, and never will, experience something that I call an intense emotional connection. We're light, and I like it that way.

But I still miss the feeling. I'm lacking the endless hugs, the tears, when skin feels so hot and tired the moment it's over, even when it isn't ever over. I'm lacking the open ended problem, the no-solution dilemma that I can dwell on forever. I've said this about someone else, but it applies to me now also: I revel in my own intensity. It sounds so inhumanistic, but there's no such thing as selfless. And this is a self-revelation, the joy one gets from spinning in their own joy, their own sorrow, their own tears. I haven't for too long. I haven't reveled in anyone else's either. I'm just lonely and emotionless, not sad, not happy, just the caricature with the eyes and the horizontal line below. Nothing. I'm looking for someone to stimulate me again. Human interaction is what does it. I'm looking for someone to love, someone to love me. Someone to hate, someone to hate me. 'Someone' and 'me' being connected in any shape. Is this turning into a wheedle?

I could be subconsciously trying to make a problem out of the fact that there's no problem. I'll end it here.

Happy September.

 

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