Like Freddy said in the poem read.
First, because I said I would:
Oh my God, I got to see Jesse Savage today, oh my God.
And just for luck, oh my God!
Now.
If you are reading this, I have died.
If you are still reading this, I have been reborn.
Yesterday:
I cried a lot. I stopped crying. I started thinking about how my life has been one big disappointment after another. I listened to the untitled bonus track of Tilly & the Wall over and over and over. I cried some more. I thought about killing myself. I made a video. I listened to Tilly some more. I cried some more. I spoke on the phone to every member of my family (even Luke Michael). I realized I love the nerdfighters more and more. I slept.
Today:
At 6:47 I got a phone call from Aaron.
At 6:47.
True, my first alarm clock had already gone off twice but I was still sleeping (I always sleep through my first alarm; I hit the snooze in my sleep).
Aaron, Jesse, & Nick were en route back from Georgia and were in Gainesville. We were going to go to breakfast.
They came over. The boys peed outside of my apartment.
Jesse told me she doesn't like dark chocolate and borrowed The Painted Bird.
We went to IHOP (Aaron drives like a maniac).
We had a lovely breakfast.
They took me back.
They left.
I got hug Jesse TWICE (and maybe Aaron four times over the course of the morning)!
It started to rain as they were leaving.
I slept for an hour.
I woke up and walked to Linguistics, took four pages of notes and didn't understand anything.
I went to Little Hall and sat down to study for my anthro exam.
Only I don't believe in studying.
I tried. I got out my notes and my book and looked over them but I thought the same thing I always think when I go to study,
"I already know this. I wrote it down. This isn't helping at all."
So instead I took out a pen and wrote around 900 words of my first short story for my Clarion application.
I crossed out whole paragraphs.
It's messy.
It's horrible.
It's nothing like what I want it to be.
It's a start.
I spent the next hour writing and it felt so good.
The writing itself is horrible.
It's verbose and off topic.
I loved it.
The weather was perfect.
I don't know why but the rain is just...
It makes me feel so much better.
I saw Brady Nash.
I went into Anthro and started talking to a nice red headed girl.
I complained about how this girl in the front row lied to the class about French on Friday.
She showed me the index cards she used to study.
We talked about having football players in classes (she has a class with Tebow and no one likes to sit by him except she).
We took the test.
I changed three answers.
I walked out.
I took a different way home and saw a boy, Sandy, from my linguistics class sitting by himself so I did something out of character:
I went and sat with him.
We talked about siblings and the admissions process and how tired we were.
I think he thought I was a little crazy.
I might've been smiling like a maniac.
I walked to Goerings where I picked up a copy of Lost in Translation by Eva Hoffman which is the next book we are reading in Polish Cinema.
I also talked to the girl at the register about flowers and sympathy.
She was wearing an Of Montreal shirt and calculator watch.
I found out the Acrosstown Repertory Theatre is doing Monty Python sketches until the 29th.
It started raining again.
I skipped home whistling, "Singin' in the Rain."
I checked my mail to find my new shoes!
I tried them on.
I didn't realize when I bought them that they match my new dress perfectly.
I love them.
Look at how many sentences here start with I.
Something is wrong with me. Seriously. I worry all of the time that things die because of me.
Intellectually, I know this cannot be true but I still feel it.
I worry about it.
I worry about my mom who woke up today and didn't get to go outside with Molly and smoke a cigarette.
I worry about Neil who loses someone every time he goes to the UK in September (or has in the last two years).
I worry about my Japanese Peace Lily which is dying as I type this.
I worry that sometimes I imagine stepping in front of a bus when I walk about Gainesville.
I used to do it in Hudson only since I drove everywhere I'd close my eyes and think about how it would feel to crash into something.
I don't want to be like that. I want to be happy and I want to grow up and I want to move away and I want to disappear.
Actually, I'm not sure.
[ETA: I'm probably not alone in this but when I need to make sense of my life I turn to Neil Gaiman's Magnificent Oracular Journal and today it said to me, "There's too much dying going on right now. If you were thinking of dying this week, don't. Just don't." from his post on October 28th, 2006. Life is so strange.]
43 days until Halloween.
Bonds.
"The baby's blood type? Human, mostly."
Oh my God, I got to see Jesse Savage today, oh my God.
And just for luck, oh my God!
Now.
If you are reading this, I have died.
If you are still reading this, I have been reborn.
Yesterday:
I cried a lot. I stopped crying. I started thinking about how my life has been one big disappointment after another. I listened to the untitled bonus track of Tilly & the Wall over and over and over. I cried some more. I thought about killing myself. I made a video. I listened to Tilly some more. I cried some more. I spoke on the phone to every member of my family (even Luke Michael). I realized I love the nerdfighters more and more. I slept.
Today:
At 6:47 I got a phone call from Aaron.
At 6:47.
True, my first alarm clock had already gone off twice but I was still sleeping (I always sleep through my first alarm; I hit the snooze in my sleep).
Aaron, Jesse, & Nick were en route back from Georgia and were in Gainesville. We were going to go to breakfast.
They came over. The boys peed outside of my apartment.
Jesse told me she doesn't like dark chocolate and borrowed The Painted Bird.
We went to IHOP (Aaron drives like a maniac).
We had a lovely breakfast.
They took me back.
They left.
I got hug Jesse TWICE (and maybe Aaron four times over the course of the morning)!
It started to rain as they were leaving.
I slept for an hour.
I woke up and walked to Linguistics, took four pages of notes and didn't understand anything.
I went to Little Hall and sat down to study for my anthro exam.
Only I don't believe in studying.
I tried. I got out my notes and my book and looked over them but I thought the same thing I always think when I go to study,
"I already know this. I wrote it down. This isn't helping at all."
So instead I took out a pen and wrote around 900 words of my first short story for my Clarion application.
I crossed out whole paragraphs.
It's messy.
It's horrible.
It's nothing like what I want it to be.
It's a start.
I spent the next hour writing and it felt so good.
The writing itself is horrible.
It's verbose and off topic.
I loved it.
The weather was perfect.
I don't know why but the rain is just...
It makes me feel so much better.
I saw Brady Nash.
I went into Anthro and started talking to a nice red headed girl.
I complained about how this girl in the front row lied to the class about French on Friday.
She showed me the index cards she used to study.
We talked about having football players in classes (she has a class with Tebow and no one likes to sit by him except she).
We took the test.
I changed three answers.
I walked out.
I took a different way home and saw a boy, Sandy, from my linguistics class sitting by himself so I did something out of character:
I went and sat with him.
We talked about siblings and the admissions process and how tired we were.
I think he thought I was a little crazy.
I might've been smiling like a maniac.
I walked to Goerings where I picked up a copy of Lost in Translation by Eva Hoffman which is the next book we are reading in Polish Cinema.
I also talked to the girl at the register about flowers and sympathy.
She was wearing an Of Montreal shirt and calculator watch.
I found out the Acrosstown Repertory Theatre is doing Monty Python sketches until the 29th.
It started raining again.
I skipped home whistling, "Singin' in the Rain."
I checked my mail to find my new shoes!
I tried them on.
I didn't realize when I bought them that they match my new dress perfectly.
I love them.
Look at how many sentences here start with I.
Something is wrong with me. Seriously. I worry all of the time that things die because of me.
Intellectually, I know this cannot be true but I still feel it.
I worry about it.
I worry about my mom who woke up today and didn't get to go outside with Molly and smoke a cigarette.
I worry about Neil who loses someone every time he goes to the UK in September (or has in the last two years).
I worry about my Japanese Peace Lily which is dying as I type this.
I worry that sometimes I imagine stepping in front of a bus when I walk about Gainesville.
I used to do it in Hudson only since I drove everywhere I'd close my eyes and think about how it would feel to crash into something.
I don't want to be like that. I want to be happy and I want to grow up and I want to move away and I want to disappear.
Actually, I'm not sure.
[ETA: I'm probably not alone in this but when I need to make sense of my life I turn to Neil Gaiman's Magnificent Oracular Journal and today it said to me, "There's too much dying going on right now. If you were thinking of dying this week, don't. Just don't." from his post on October 28th, 2006. Life is so strange.]
43 days until Halloween.
Bonds.
"The baby's blood type? Human, mostly."