June has went by so fast. It kind of scares me that it has, because apparently this is what the rest of my life is going to feel like according to my father who has "been there done that." Then again, my father has always been so pessimistic about everything. I remember once while watching the news, the week forecast said sunny all week long and my father said "yeah well, those weather men don't know what they're really talking about, they can't predict the future, we'll get rain, you see." To him that was positive thinking because "we needed rain."

Lately I've just wanted to feel drunk. I want that shit faced feeling you get when you wake up the next morning. The splitting headache and dizziness all just seem friend to me these past few days. Some nights when I'm just laying in bed I can feel the nausea slowly creep up on me, and once I welcome it with open arms it runs away. Maybe I need more beauty in my life, or perhaps to open up my eyes more often. This morning when I woke up at 7 a.m. I could feel everything beautiful sink into my bones. The thin slits of light that came through my blinds were beautiful along with the way the air from the fan felt on my shoulders. I started to think about these things but then of course my thoughts started to skip over to other things which then caused me to feel a knot in my throat. I found similarities in things I never wanted to find in. This then caused questions which led to me throwing away my morning.

I realized my phone didn't work this morning. This brought relief and panic.

Hm? I know you'll take that the wrong way so let me elaborate. Relief from the constant technology push and panic because of the lack of communication between me and my lover! I fear no longer, it works.

My dog, Ziggy, loves no matter what. I'd like that. He loves me though I dislike him with a passion. He follows me around and lays by my feet when I have decided on a place to lounge and is ready to move when I am. He loves me. It's actually starting to grow on me, and I'm beginning to love him back.

I'd like to be more artistically inclined. Whether it be with my hands, voice, whatever, just more of it would be nice. My mother said I have it with my eyes. I see things like nobody else, she says, though it's extremely cliche. There's this song now on the radio called "birthday sex," and it makes me wonder, what the hell happened to music? How has it seriously gotten to this? Anybody with a generally nice voice can make a "number 1 hit song" about whatever the hell they want. Forget about the truly unique voices like Norah Jones, Patsy Cline, Nathan Willet, Louis Armstrong or even Willie Nelson and other such artists. Musicians have it hard now-a-days because teenagers rule the music industry in the sense that they demand what's to be recorded, to be heard, and all it is are r&b and rap songs about money and sex and fame or even shoes for god sakes.

It's just sad is all.

I've decided I need to go outside more often. I need sunshine. That is exactly what I need. I just want someone else who wants the same thing. I know I don't NEED them but it'd be nice to have them.

Before last night, I would stay up until god awful times of the night. I would stay up and draw or think, look for music. Last night I went to sleep at 8 and woke up at 7 this morning. It felt so good, although now I could use a nap.

I just cleaned my ear because it was oozing nasty stuff. Bleh. I feel a little nauseous but I will get over it.

VOILA!

I want more for myself. I want a lot more. Does this make me selfish? There are a few traits I wish I had that I know I currently lack.

More adventure. More risks.

Sometimes it's hard to believe I was just there an hour or so ago, touching, loving.


This is not a dream.



It's really frustrating when everything is so private :|

this will destroy you

Why do people put there hands over there faces out of frustration? What do they not want to see? When I was younger I used to scream and yell when I was frustrated. Now I am silent, yet I still scream on the inside. Sometimes tears roll down my cheek and all they are, are tiny little screams of profanity, acts of violence. Salty. Wet. Small. Significant.

I know what I want. I want you to pick up my pieces and fit them back together. Put ME back together. Start where everything was dropped. A stronger bond. That's what I want. To forever be tied. But it's not what I really want, because it's not what you want. That's where everything becomes slightly incoherent. I want you to want what I want. I want what you want. But what I want isn't what you want, so I don't really want it. This is what destroys me. Because this isn't what I want. I want what I want and that's what I am figuring out.

Us.

"I wanted so badly to lie down next to him on the couch, to wrap my arms around him and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and he had the girlfriend and I was gawky and he was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and he was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and he was hurricane." - Looking for Alaska

I know what tomorrow is going to be like. I know that it isn't going to be so sunny, but that everything is still going to be okay. I know that the sky isn't going to just fall down.

Only I don't?

Today was a good day. Today was normal. This night was terrible. This night was so terrible, I wouldn't mind doing it just once more, so that when I say goodnight, I don't forget to say I love you the next time around.

I hate who you've become too. I don't know you anymore. All of those piece of shit tears you shed don't mean a damn thing until you've done something positive for yourself. Best friend my ass, you haven't been my shoulder in forever. What really sucks is that I have to look at that fake ass somberness on your face every day. If it's sympathy you were looking for, then you got it. I have so much sympathy for you. I feel sorry that you'll waste away this next year being a selfish nomad, moving from crowd to crowd taking what you only think will benefit you. I feel sorry for you, because your future looks like a garbage dump. There won't be anyone, especially not me, to be behind you picking up shit you drop. Welcome to your lonely, sad world.

I have a headache.

~~~~%

I've got this job now, and I'll have this car at some point or another. I will be enrolled into college at sometime and time will keep going and going.

I've recently though about time. I think it about it a lot actually. It never stops. June is flying by and it's taking everything in me to notice the small seconds of the day. I have all these plans that have been destroyed, and so I am left with the remains of what an amazing summer could have been.

I still have my babe. That counts for a lot. And recently a band aid has been placed somewhere. I don't know where, but wherever it is it's mending something.

So this is what it is all like now... a couple of quarters, empty fridge, a pile of dirty clothes, unmade bed, empty living room, dirty bathroom, and a large happy smile.

I could elaborate more, but all of this chicken is starting to get to me.

Infinity infinity infinity zero.

I can't say I've been more scared. I can't say I've been more uneasy. I can't say I've been more not understanding. I can't say I've been dumber. I can't say anything.