Does it make you indie, does it make you proud to talk the world into a paper bag?

I've been gone for awhile because my fuck-ass computer wasn't working. I haven't really been up to much lately. Just trying to figure out what the fuck I'm doing with myself. I had a shitty day yesterday. My amp got busted. I found out some bad news about my best friend. Work sucked. Then Jason and I made plans and he never called me. Which was lame, but I'm used to unreliable friends, so who cares. That's the scary thing lately, actually. I've been so.... passive about everything. Shitty things happen and I just shrug it off. I was telling Cara the other day that the last time I cried was when I got drunk. And I can't remember the time before that. It's like I just don't really care about anything anymore. I can still be passionate about things, but there's been nothing to be passionate about. I went out with Tracey last night to hang out with Jesse, Colin, and Alex. Jesse spent most of the night with his girlfriend. Tracey and Colin got drunk and held hands on the couch. The sight of it made me sick, so I got up and left. I wasn't in the mood to watch any more of her bullshit. I don't like the kind of person she's becoming, but I really have no right to say anything about it. With Colin begging her to stay, she called after me as I walked down the road. "Just stay!" I yelled, "I don't care what you do. I just want to go home." And I did. I was in a shitty mood. She followed me anyway, and I felt like an asshole. She didn't help. I was told that I was a hypocrite and that I didn't understand anything. I told her I didn't want to talk because she was drunk.

I haven't seen New Guy in awhile. I don't really want to. That whole adventure was totally out of character for me, but then again, I've been strangely out of character the last little while. I should never have even put myself in that position. I don't regret anything, but I don't think it was the smartest thing I've ever done. I don't think I want to be around guys anymore. Not unless I can find one worth wasting time and energy on. I'm not kidding though, I put a lot into the relationships I have with people, and I've been getting fuck all in return. I think it's partially my fault though. I expect too much. I meet people and think 'Oh wow, this is going to be great', and I just end up getting disappointed. Maybe I was kidding myself when I said I didn't want a relationship. I do. I just want to meet someone who knows who they are and what they want. I want to be with someone who I can talk to without censoring myself. I think I've set my standards too high. Maybe I should just date myself.

"You're still really beautiful."
"Oh........well thanks."
"I don't know why you're not taken yet."
"Neither do I. Maybe it's just not the right time."
"I regret letting you go."
"I'd rather not talk about that."

Hahaha. I just remembered something from last night. Alex whipping Colin and Jesse with a metal spatula. Fuck that was funny.

I love the way the sun just seems to mold it's orbit to yours. And I'm starting to be intrigued by the fact that the only time I love you is when I see you in my dreams. You're a different person then. Your hair in your eyes and I'm always too far to breathe you in. Like an oil painting; I'm afraid to even reach out and touch you. The colours are perfect as they are. You can stay like that forever.

The Canucks just scored. Awesome.

The other day, I went and saw the house Janelle and I are moving into. It's awesome. I'm excited. We went browsing for paint chips and she talked about colour schemes while my eyes took in each shade individually; my mind wandering to things that seemed less real. I can't wait to have new surroundings. I love change. I'm at home right now, obviously. I hurt from lifting heavy boxes. When I lay down at night, my entire body hums beneath the sheets. It feels like an electrical current running through me. It's almost soothing, but I know it's a sign of exhaustion. Some days, I'm on my feet for over eleven hours. I like being busy though. It really distracts me from things I should be dealing with, but don't feel like doing.

Don't bother apologizing. Showing me that side of you I'm trying to pretend doesn't exist. I'm used to being let down, I bet you didn't count on that. But you don't count on much of anything. I feel sick inside. Jealousy was an emotion I thought I left behind with old textbooks and shifting personalities. I can't give you my undivided attention because there's two sides to me, and only one of them cares to turn in your direction.

I bet all of you just thoroughly appreciate the fact that I type in halted pieces of nonsense and plain english. Sometimes I guess I'm too closed to say what I really want to say. Instead I have to disguise it. I suppose you could say that's a sign of a weak personality. Well, I disagree. I just don't like to lay everything out on the table for everyone to see. There's a lot that goes on that I don't care to share with anyone. Trevor just called me to say that he got a job. Just before I could ask him if he wanted to hang out, he told me he had to go. Someone upstairs is watching a show about testicles. Why do I insist on typing everything that wanders through my head?

Tonight I'm in one of those moods. My escape mood. I'm going to walk to Long Lake and lay on the end of the dock so I can see the stars. I hope it's clear outside. If it isn't, there's no point in going. Last night; Colin, Tracey, Alex, and I sat on that dock. A joint was passed around and I broke the circle of bodies to test the water. I wanted to swim, but I'm still sick, so it wasn't a good idea. Everything was black out. The water so dark I couldn't judge the depth. It felt cold, but comforting to sink my fingers into it. I turned onto my back and hung my head over the edge of the dock. The others were talking but it was like they were speaking a different language. The words would wander over to my ears, but they'd get blown away in the breeze before I could make sense of them. My skin pulled closer to my bones in an attempt to conserve body heat. The sky looked like someone had poked holes in a black lid and covered us like little ants. I felt my hair fall into the water and for a split second I pictured a pair of hands reaching up and pulling me under. The thought haunted me for more than a few minutes, but I never moved a muscle.





"It's already hard enough to say I need it."
-Poison The Well