I might disinigrate into the thin air if you'd like....

I keep thinking, 'the calm before the storm'. Things have been really wierd lately. I went to a party last night on Gabriola. There was booze and drugs and lots of strangers, and I spent most of the time outside, watching a spider devour a flying ant. Needless to say, I was a little anti-social.

Anti-social. A word that has crept up on me unannounced, and slowly floated over my personality. I can't relate to people anymore, I don't know what it is. I find it hard to keep conversation and be interested in everyone else. I find myself craving an empty house and time spent alone. I wrote in my journal the other day, and filled the pages with frustration and anger. I don't know what came over me, I just wrote and wrote and wrote all night, and then went to work without sleep. I don't know what it is... Every thought becomes a dead end. Every twinkle of hope burns out before it has a chance to give light. When and how did I get to this point? Nothing can hold my attention now, not thoughts of love, life, or death. I don't feel comfortable in my own skin. I feel like I'm living a million different lives and experiencing a million different occurances. I feel like there's supposed to be more for me on this helpless fucking planet. It feels like I got dropped here and either I wasn't ready, or it wasn't even the right destination. Nothing ever feels like home to me. I never feel like I'm home. Everything feels old and used and worthless. What is the point of tomorrow? Honestly, think about that. I don't mean to sound overly suicidal here, but life has lost it's flair. The problem is, death has lost its excitement too. The idea used to seem vaguely appealing to me, but now it's dull and overused just like everything else. What do you do when you're bored with life and death? Where do I go from here?

I looked at some old pictures from years ago. I didn't recognize myself. Was I once her? Did I once walk in that setting, feeling that sun, breathing that air? Is this what growing old feels like, not being able to recognize yourself? Feeling so detached?

We were sitting close to the sea with ridiculously overpriced ice cream falling into our bellies. He spoke with childish and forgivable anger.
"I just don't understand, how could she do that?"
"People do crazy things when they're-"
"Upset?" He interrupted.
"I was going to say 'in love', but both of those work. People do crazy things when they're upset or in love. In fact, it's best to just avoid those two states of being. You know, I think that's what I'll do from now on; actively avoid being upset or in love."
"Be careful. The last girl that told me she couldn't believe in love ended up killing herself."
I swallowed hard and blinked once, finding it suddenly hard to speak. I didn't know how to answer.

I walked to work in the early morning, while it was still dark. Out of the corner of my eyes, I kept seeing flashes of lightning on the horizon. The sky was an awkward shade of purple-black, and I could make out the menacing outlines of lumpy clouds.
"Here comes the storm," I thought.








"Well you cocked your head to shoot me down and I don't give a damn about you or this town no more."
-Modest Mouse