(no subject)
Is it weird that I wish I were more like my boyfriend? It's hard for me to imagine why he could love me as much as he does, because if I were him I wouldn't need anyone else to bring me peace and satisfaction. Maybe someday he'll realize that too. Why am I so lost.
I've decided that every time I feel like this I need to meditate. But is it okay to cry while you meditate? I feel like if I ever achieved enlightenment, I would never be able to stop crying. Or maybe crying is not the highest expression of emotion. Laughing should be, right? I guess my brain rejects happiness so much that I feel like the only way my body responds to anything now is by tears. It's really terrible. Cheesy or violent movies, good or bad sex, stress and release, weddings and funerals. I remember the last thing my oldest sister said to me before she left for college. She just said (and I've been bawling for like three days straight while she's been packing), "Bye Julie, take care...try not to cry so much." Ha. So then I proceeded to do nothing but cry for the next ten years.
Nevermind, don't listen to me. Every female in this dorm is probably erupting in psuedo-deep self-pitying ramblings like this one this week. Dammit, why are females so freakin weird.
I feel like I can maintain a steady appearance of "okay"ness, but I only get my weird fidgety-fingered glee when I'm working on a crafty project or writing a reeeally good paper. Or when I play the game where I make Trevor chase me into my room and tickle me on my bed. I love making that boy run.
I've decided that every time I feel like this I need to meditate. But is it okay to cry while you meditate? I feel like if I ever achieved enlightenment, I would never be able to stop crying. Or maybe crying is not the highest expression of emotion. Laughing should be, right? I guess my brain rejects happiness so much that I feel like the only way my body responds to anything now is by tears. It's really terrible. Cheesy or violent movies, good or bad sex, stress and release, weddings and funerals. I remember the last thing my oldest sister said to me before she left for college. She just said (and I've been bawling for like three days straight while she's been packing), "Bye Julie, take care...try not to cry so much." Ha. So then I proceeded to do nothing but cry for the next ten years.
Nevermind, don't listen to me. Every female in this dorm is probably erupting in psuedo-deep self-pitying ramblings like this one this week. Dammit, why are females so freakin weird.
I feel like I can maintain a steady appearance of "okay"ness, but I only get my weird fidgety-fingered glee when I'm working on a crafty project or writing a reeeally good paper. Or when I play the game where I make Trevor chase me into my room and tickle me on my bed. I love making that boy run.