(Private locked) Tired. So very tired.
I'm riding the crazy train. I know it. I don't behave like this. But I am and I can't stop and it's like some kind of weird spiral. I need this break like no one's business. If it's not emotional, it's ghostlike. I need my home and my bed and to talk to Beth in person instead of over the phone and to talk to horses I grew up with and do dishes and help cook and maybe, please God, maybe sleep. Real sleep.
I've been having dreams. I can't remember them. I can never remember them. This bothers me more than it should, but it's only been a little while. Some of them are raw, hurty, and I wake up crying and I don't know why, and I have to keep it down. But I don't /remember/ them. It's frustrating, crying over dreams you can't remember. So far, I haven't woken up Frankie or Jules, even when I /am/ in the room. I think I'll try for a single, next year, so I can not worry about waking up anyone else.
I've been avoiding thinking about Hemi as much as possible, like an ostrich with its head in the sand. When I do think about it, it's like poking a raw wound that doesn't bleed but won't scab, so I just ignore it and hope that sooner or later, it'll stop hurting. It's not working. I decided to keep the guitar, but I still can't bear to look at it. Do people really get over this kind of thing? It's not like part of me hasn't already moved on. Several times. Austen genes, once we find out what sex is like...Yeah. Ok, not saying that, either. Except that, no matter how I feel about other people, the hurt from Hemi is still there and won't go away. It's the first time that me being me was enough to drive someone away. It probably won't be the last.
Even the people making me happiest, I can't bear to write about, like putting words down on "paper" will mess it up, somehow. Not that I can't do that on my own, I'm finding that my capacity for shooting myself in the foot to be far, far greater than I ever thought. I'll be lucky to make it out of college without getting shot by someone, at this rate. Ok, leaving that alone. Some other time, I'll address it. Not now. Sometimes, introspection is to be avoided. I'm avoidant.
Jon's sick. I think he's sicker than he lets on. Flu doesn't last this long and /something/ was swollen on his neck. Maybe it was his lymph nodes. I should ask Doyle, he's pre-med. Or John or Mary. At least he promised to see a doctor.
And then? There's ghosts, and that Ouija board. Doyle suggested buying a cheap one for the next experiment. I didn't want to. I don't understand it, I didn't want to. I'm scared of the thing, I can't bear to look at it, most times and don't want to touch it most times. But the thought of using another one disturbed me. And the ghosts. Minnie's haunted but at least hers are protecting her. There's Thackeray, there's Abigail...however you spell it. Will said that a lot more people are seeing things, now, and it's keeping him up and all I keep thinking is that this is my fault, why should he pay for me waking things up? He says it's not, but...I have my doubts. Which means now I'm all guilty. However, there's no point in /just/ being guilty, so I suggested a volunteer neighborhood watch so that there's people around in case more students wake up and see someone standing over their roommates and holy GOD, why is this happening?
And between Doyle's drumkit and a place for the band to practice and Will's movie? Fuck it. We're raving. That's it. Ian suggested I ask Wu to DJ, so I plan to. Now, to start doing oodles of legwork. In between ghost hunts. I'd better buy stock in Red Bull. Better than dreaming, right?
Let's end on a good note. Will and Ari are dating. And the two of them kissing? Way hot. I'll be in my bunk. Holy cow.
I've been having dreams. I can't remember them. I can never remember them. This bothers me more than it should, but it's only been a little while. Some of them are raw, hurty, and I wake up crying and I don't know why, and I have to keep it down. But I don't /remember/ them. It's frustrating, crying over dreams you can't remember. So far, I haven't woken up Frankie or Jules, even when I /am/ in the room. I think I'll try for a single, next year, so I can not worry about waking up anyone else.
I've been avoiding thinking about Hemi as much as possible, like an ostrich with its head in the sand. When I do think about it, it's like poking a raw wound that doesn't bleed but won't scab, so I just ignore it and hope that sooner or later, it'll stop hurting. It's not working. I decided to keep the guitar, but I still can't bear to look at it. Do people really get over this kind of thing? It's not like part of me hasn't already moved on. Several times. Austen genes, once we find out what sex is like...Yeah. Ok, not saying that, either. Except that, no matter how I feel about other people, the hurt from Hemi is still there and won't go away. It's the first time that me being me was enough to drive someone away. It probably won't be the last.
Even the people making me happiest, I can't bear to write about, like putting words down on "paper" will mess it up, somehow. Not that I can't do that on my own, I'm finding that my capacity for shooting myself in the foot to be far, far greater than I ever thought. I'll be lucky to make it out of college without getting shot by someone, at this rate. Ok, leaving that alone. Some other time, I'll address it. Not now. Sometimes, introspection is to be avoided. I'm avoidant.
Jon's sick. I think he's sicker than he lets on. Flu doesn't last this long and /something/ was swollen on his neck. Maybe it was his lymph nodes. I should ask Doyle, he's pre-med. Or John or Mary. At least he promised to see a doctor.
And then? There's ghosts, and that Ouija board. Doyle suggested buying a cheap one for the next experiment. I didn't want to. I don't understand it, I didn't want to. I'm scared of the thing, I can't bear to look at it, most times and don't want to touch it most times. But the thought of using another one disturbed me. And the ghosts. Minnie's haunted but at least hers are protecting her. There's Thackeray, there's Abigail...however you spell it. Will said that a lot more people are seeing things, now, and it's keeping him up and all I keep thinking is that this is my fault, why should he pay for me waking things up? He says it's not, but...I have my doubts. Which means now I'm all guilty. However, there's no point in /just/ being guilty, so I suggested a volunteer neighborhood watch so that there's people around in case more students wake up and see someone standing over their roommates and holy GOD, why is this happening?
And between Doyle's drumkit and a place for the band to practice and Will's movie? Fuck it. We're raving. That's it. Ian suggested I ask Wu to DJ, so I plan to. Now, to start doing oodles of legwork. In between ghost hunts. I'd better buy stock in Red Bull. Better than dreaming, right?
Let's end on a good note. Will and Ari are dating. And the two of them kissing? Way hot. I'll be in my bunk. Holy cow.