so good at stumbling
I meant to post this last night, but Lj was being a bitch.
People stopped me in the hall yesterday and asked "You love me, Hannah?" It was like a nightmare come true. Tell us what you feel, explain your emotions. Do it now. In some cases it wasn't even a question, but a statement: "Hannah loves me." Like they could suck the love right out of my chest. I stared, numbly for a moment, surprised that they would be so forthcoming. Then I nod, a quick bob of the head. "Of course I do." I gave smiles and embraces where they were needed.
aah, the glory of wearing an "I (heart) nerds" t-shirt.
No more A Home at the End of the World. Finished it after not being able to stop reading it for a week. Figures, I pick myself a depressing book among everything else. It didn't leave me with the raw, desperate feeling I experienced after the movie, just a heavy inevitability instead. So no more of that. I'll probably never find my own home at the end of the world. I seem to have developed a recent aptitude for burning bridges, doing things wrong or just going against the grain. It's like I suddently want to pick fights with everyone, mainly the people who matter most to me, as if some part of me wants to distance myself from the last few refuges I have. I don't know why I would want that, but there it is. The subconscious works in mysterious ways. Right now mine has been instructing me on how to do and say precisely the wrong things.
I'm sorry.
People stopped me in the hall yesterday and asked "You love me, Hannah?" It was like a nightmare come true. Tell us what you feel, explain your emotions. Do it now. In some cases it wasn't even a question, but a statement: "Hannah loves me." Like they could suck the love right out of my chest. I stared, numbly for a moment, surprised that they would be so forthcoming. Then I nod, a quick bob of the head. "Of course I do." I gave smiles and embraces where they were needed.
aah, the glory of wearing an "I (heart) nerds" t-shirt.
No more A Home at the End of the World. Finished it after not being able to stop reading it for a week. Figures, I pick myself a depressing book among everything else. It didn't leave me with the raw, desperate feeling I experienced after the movie, just a heavy inevitability instead. So no more of that. I'll probably never find my own home at the end of the world. I seem to have developed a recent aptitude for burning bridges, doing things wrong or just going against the grain. It's like I suddently want to pick fights with everyone, mainly the people who matter most to me, as if some part of me wants to distance myself from the last few refuges I have. I don't know why I would want that, but there it is. The subconscious works in mysterious ways. Right now mine has been instructing me on how to do and say precisely the wrong things.
I'm sorry.