You write such pretty words, but life is no story book. Love is an excuse to hurt and get hurt....

Where the kids wander the streets in the daylight/ And bring with them the fear from the night, through 'til morning./ Every time you blink, the scenery changes;/ A new man on the corner preaching the word of God in his humble stance, book in hand, eyes still question marks;/ Why am I here? Where am I going?/ The old with their open faces and childlike naiivety.../ No one says 'hello' to strangers anymore, don't they know that?/ Nineteen years and I still don't recognize a single face./ I wonder if they've seen me before:/ "Hey, there's that girl,"/ I'd rather remain anonymous,/ Dilute myself in the midst of others./ Walk home alone./ Was I seen? Was I enough to be remembered? Am I enough to be a snapshot negative in your memory?


I spent the last two days getting wasted. I don't care if I'm proud. I don't care...at all....about....much. I reached a hightened sense of...well...nothing. I was a bit smarter. And much more political. I was watching the news and getting really involved in everything that came on. This was all by myself of course.... Then I kinda fell asleep. Woke up in the early morning. Ate next to nothing all day. Went out. I feel so good.

Buuuuut on the other hand, I don't feel good. What happened to being smart on my own? What happened to having unaided fun? It's just that.... I really like the feeling of being on it. And I like the feeling the day after being on it. I'm so... on edge. Aware. And yet, laid back. A thousand emotions just cascading around my head. Bouncing in and out and around. None really taking any hold, just showing their faces. I rode home in his car and thought, "Tonight... nah.... I won't... I don't need to." And then I got home and inside and up the stairs. I walked around my room. Turned on the ole tele. Then my eyes wandered over to the 'box' and my self control snuck out the open window. I sat, rolled, smoked........................lost myself.

"So you're just happy with being fucked up?"

So... yet again, I am going to say that I don't know what's going to happen. I'm just going to go with it. I know for sure that it will get old. Everything routine quickly loses its appeal for me. Hey, I know something about myself! Yay! Haha.

"I'm not worried really...I just don't get you sometimes."

Those closest to me will feel the farthest away, because they think they know me the most. They think that in all the years they've spent with me, they've figured me out. But then I go and do something, and they feel totally lost. Other people don't care, because they have no expectations of me. They don't expect me to act a certain way. They will feel they know me the best. Truth is, they're both wrong.

For those who have interpreted this blog on a different way than I intended; I have a message for you. You don't have to worry about me. I hate making people worry about me. I'm fine. I may write things on here that seem depressing or wierd, but that's just me writing my heart out. I'm trying to figure things out, and I don't want to censor any thought. I've tried to explain myself to people. I'm lost. I'm confused. I feel like I've started all over from the very beginning. But I'm comfortable. I'm happy... but happy in a different way. Everything is really messed up, but at the back of my mind, I just feel like everything is going to sort itself out. Like I'm on the brink of something...important. I've always been kind of disconnected from myself and the world. Maybe this is just me trying to find my place. Learning how to fit into normal situations around me. It's like I fell out of the life I had before. The life where I thought I knew everything. And now I'm just sitting back and taking a good look at things. Writing things on paper. Mapping myself out. Sorting. Organizing. Putting things in their place. Putting myself into place. I'll get somewhere eventually. I probably won't even feel like I went anywhere.

Enough babbling! This is dangerous this blog thing... No one to shut me up. No one to tell me when I've gone too far....







"Are you peaking in the red? Perforated at the neck?"
-The Mars Volta