verbal ebola
First: happy birthday Chelsea! Get down, girl!
Second: I think I am losing my mind a little bit, or at least losing control of it: today I was quiet for an hour and a half and then was suddenly completely, totally, deliriously happy, like giddy-can't-feel-my-legs-smiling-so-that-it-hurts-my-face happy, and then spent an hour reading secrets and feeling like I was about to cry even though they were nothing but dumb LJSecret "my boyfriend left me for a werewolf" "I'm thin not bulimic, stop being jealous fatties" bullshit and can't stop smoking because I keep forgetting (literally forgetting, until I light another one) that I just smoked a cigarette not even ten minutes before. I have this hideous urge to say the most inappropriate, blunt, ridiculously out-of-the-blue things to everybody I see and have, on several occasions, actually done so (fortunately in relatively harmless situations) and also to wear as many different outfits as possible in one day (I think about changing my clothes at least once per hour if not more and waste an astonishing amount of time coming up with outfits that I would like to wear in the future, and also forcing myself to wait at least two days between trips to Buffalo so that I will not recognize all of the clothes). You know those things that everybody thinks but you're not ever supposed to say? I just want to say them. I think that the way that we are prone to interacting with our close group of friends (trading mild to not-so-mild and/or offensive barbs for hours on end or, alternately, discussing at length how great/fucked up we are and how stupid/enviably well-adjusted everyone else is) has crossed some internal wires in a negative way and makes it weird to interact with people outside of the group. Also that we have such an intensely insular group in the first place (not, of course, that I would be comfortable with any sort of change, whether it be miniscule or dramatic). I have been prancing/running everywhere, can't stop standing and moving in ballet positions, and have not had an appetite for weeks (today I had one third of a veggie burrito and a lot of espresso and tea and the thought of consuming anything else makes me want to throw up). I have been fascinated by things like long, clean fingernails, the shape of eggs and holding things shaped like eggs (I have not actually been able to do this but remember vividly what an egg feels like in the palm of my hand and would love little more than to be able to carry one around), being in small dark places (playing Sardines), buying lottery tickets/winning the lottery, avoiding parties studiously, and a variety of other shit that has no reason to be taking up any headspace of mine ever. On top (ha!) of all of that, I feel like I have now obtained an uncomfortably clear understanding of why cats in heat make such horrifying otherwordly noises the whole time that they're suffering through it because I cannot, under any circumstances, quiet the dull roar of hormones constantly going through my body no matter what I do. Rot in hell, adolescent sex drive- I've got a million things I have to do, not people, and you're not making my life any easier! I guess at least Steve benefits from that particular aspect of this whole "total lack of self-possession" thing; all I get out of it is a total inability to lean over without forgetting everything that I'm supposed to be getting done.What I should be thinking about is finding a place to live (lease up July 1 oh fuck), going back to school in the fall, taming the beasts that are my impulses, and, oh, I don't know, doing something with my life?
The weirdest part is that the chemicals running through my brain right now mean "happy" (I think), and therefore that I'm okay (right?). I can't even process the question that I would like to ask about this into a coherent sentence, though: something about what's the difference between chemically happy and "legitimately" happy and how chemical happiness can be easily produced by generally negative influences when you've got a defective brain-part like I am genetically predisposed to. So, um, I don't know, if anyone has noticed anything I need to put in check (like being insane) please feel free to mention it.
June 1st through 3rd is the Starlite reunion. Anyone wanna take a spur-of-the-moment trip to Kerrville? Me neither.
love,
Abby.
Second: I think I am losing my mind a little bit, or at least losing control of it: today I was quiet for an hour and a half and then was suddenly completely, totally, deliriously happy, like giddy-can't-feel-my-legs-smiling-so-that-it-hurts-my-face happy, and then spent an hour reading secrets and feeling like I was about to cry even though they were nothing but dumb LJSecret "my boyfriend left me for a werewolf" "I'm thin not bulimic, stop being jealous fatties" bullshit and can't stop smoking because I keep forgetting (literally forgetting, until I light another one) that I just smoked a cigarette not even ten minutes before. I have this hideous urge to say the most inappropriate, blunt, ridiculously out-of-the-blue things to everybody I see and have, on several occasions, actually done so (fortunately in relatively harmless situations) and also to wear as many different outfits as possible in one day (I think about changing my clothes at least once per hour if not more and waste an astonishing amount of time coming up with outfits that I would like to wear in the future, and also forcing myself to wait at least two days between trips to Buffalo so that I will not recognize all of the clothes). You know those things that everybody thinks but you're not ever supposed to say? I just want to say them. I think that the way that we are prone to interacting with our close group of friends (trading mild to not-so-mild and/or offensive barbs for hours on end or, alternately, discussing at length how great/fucked up we are and how stupid/enviably well-adjusted everyone else is) has crossed some internal wires in a negative way and makes it weird to interact with people outside of the group. Also that we have such an intensely insular group in the first place (not, of course, that I would be comfortable with any sort of change, whether it be miniscule or dramatic). I have been prancing/running everywhere, can't stop standing and moving in ballet positions, and have not had an appetite for weeks (today I had one third of a veggie burrito and a lot of espresso and tea and the thought of consuming anything else makes me want to throw up). I have been fascinated by things like long, clean fingernails, the shape of eggs and holding things shaped like eggs (I have not actually been able to do this but remember vividly what an egg feels like in the palm of my hand and would love little more than to be able to carry one around), being in small dark places (playing Sardines), buying lottery tickets/winning the lottery, avoiding parties studiously, and a variety of other shit that has no reason to be taking up any headspace of mine ever. On top (ha!) of all of that, I feel like I have now obtained an uncomfortably clear understanding of why cats in heat make such horrifying otherwordly noises the whole time that they're suffering through it because I cannot, under any circumstances, quiet the dull roar of hormones constantly going through my body no matter what I do. Rot in hell, adolescent sex drive- I've got a million things I have to do, not people, and you're not making my life any easier! I guess at least Steve benefits from that particular aspect of this whole "total lack of self-possession" thing; all I get out of it is a total inability to lean over without forgetting everything that I'm supposed to be getting done.What I should be thinking about is finding a place to live (lease up July 1 oh fuck), going back to school in the fall, taming the beasts that are my impulses, and, oh, I don't know, doing something with my life?
The weirdest part is that the chemicals running through my brain right now mean "happy" (I think), and therefore that I'm okay (right?). I can't even process the question that I would like to ask about this into a coherent sentence, though: something about what's the difference between chemically happy and "legitimately" happy and how chemical happiness can be easily produced by generally negative influences when you've got a defective brain-part like I am genetically predisposed to. So, um, I don't know, if anyone has noticed anything I need to put in check (like being insane) please feel free to mention it.
June 1st through 3rd is the Starlite reunion. Anyone wanna take a spur-of-the-moment trip to Kerrville? Me neither.
love,
Abby.