So how about I log what's going on on my side of the world? Sounds good to me.
-Ceb
Please do.
-Fravas
Day 1
5:04 p.m.
Relationships are so screwed up. I've spent a good portion of today contemplating what a relationship is really about. Love? Happiness? Transfer of information? Changes? "They trade random excerpts of code, letting each overwrite the other in an orgy of binary sex. They come away changed, enriched with new subroutines, bereft of old ones." -Maelstrom
I still have no answer, however. I only have my out-dated, archived ideas on the subject. Things that I formulated way back in 8th grade. They may be a little naive, but maybe it will create a template for me. And they basically consist of being happy, peaceful, content, loved, blahblahblah. I would think that they are a little more than that. They involve a deep level of communication, understanding and trust. Oh, and respect. Respect is extremely important, here.
I don't feel like thinking about that anymore. So on to better subjects. Maelstrom. I've still got some backlog to cover. It's getting ridiculous. I think it took me an hour to read 20 pages... of course, that hour was laced with random bouts of snacking, wandering haplessly through the kitchen in search of entertainment and playing with my toes. I can't wait for my other books to come in, but I want Maelstrom out of the way. I'm a good half way through. I think the other books should be here by Monday.
And since I'm following Francisco's stylish website design, it is now 5:31. And I'm getting depressed thinking about this stuff. It seems I'll never know what I want. It seems that I want to seal myself completely off from everyone else, but at the same time, I want someone there with me. That's such goth bullshit.
Day 2
8:25 a.m.
Right now I'm procrastinating. I'm not reading Maelstrom, I'm not looking for colleges, I'm not drawing. Instead, I'm writing e-mails... or just one e-mail. And I'm writing in here.
Do we like stories? Of course we do.
The morning is calm. I am awake, and the usual absurdities are crowding into my head, just as they've been doing for the past month or two. You don't know what you're doing. You don't need anyone. You're walking away from love. Get a life. Stop thinking about it...
Time to get up.
I force my body out of the warm coccoon. A song starts up. Hero. Not FrouFrou. It's Jennifer Saunders. If anything, it's even more desperate-sounding than FrouFrou's masterpiece. That must be why my mind circles it around and around, like some mad carousel.
I sigh. The person in the mirror has such messy hair. But she fails to do anything about it. She's not going anywhere important today.
Somehow, I think I may be lovesick. I actually miss that feeling. But I drown it out with sit-ups. Maybe if my stomach's in enough pain, I can forget that love exists, and that I crave it; I don't need it. After all, if your head hurts, you've only to drop a brick on your toes. Sit-ups it is.
By the time I get upstairs, I've got some motivation (or at least a semblance of some) and I use it to my advantage to begin some linework on the tablet. I quickly lose interest and pop into my e-mail.
Someone has sent me a ridiculously long list of words.
Actually, it's a simple phrase, copied and pasted many times over. "LONG EMAIL" it screams. And indeed. It is a long email.
I pull back a memory, from deep in the archives.
Send me email! she said.
I can't remember if there was a response. But there was certainly a reaction.
The next morning, my inbox glared at me: ONE NEW MESSAGE.
I was elated. Someone actually cared enough to contact me. At the time, it was ironic that it hadn't been my childhood friend and loving boyfriend.
Ah yes, my ex-boyfriend... information that I've long since zipped. That's a story for another day.
Now I'm back in my living room, almond-colored walls staring with neutral eyes. I'm lonely here.
11:55 a.m.
Made this more consistent with Fravas' style. Day 1 on top, Day n below it. I'm such a whore for aesthetic balance, even when in the form of text.
Day 3
5:19 a.m.
I woke up at 4. I don't feel well, something's not sitting right with my stomach. I'm feeling stressed. This is probably caused by a lack of exercise and sleep. So yeah... basically, I feel like shit right now. I think I've got a bout of slightly suicidal hysteria on my doorstep. Don't think I want to open the door anytime soon.
I am such an attention whore... gah.
So yesterday Fravas and I got our hair cut! He looks ridiculous now. He should have left his hair alone. I, on the other hand, am exceedingly adorable. Hug me.
And omg... he gave me Giger books! *explode* And they're NICE, too. Hardcover, good condition. (Hell, I would have taken them even if they were falling apart...) But most importantly... it's GIGER. I now have a rather nice collection of Giger's work in book form. I can reference it anytime I damn well please, and I don't even have to rely on the wired! Oops. I'm forgetting my manners. I'm forgetting the inanities that supposedly show others that I care. The mechanical routines we go through, blahblahblah I'llshutthefuckupnow. THANKS, FRAVAS! *textheart*
9:03 a.m.
Thank INKY. (Hail Eris) The pain has subsided. My artistic skills (or lack thereof) need a lot of tempering. BUBBLEGIRL! Finished Maelstrom. Finally. Good read, though. Need the next two books.
I've got that sense of being alone once again. I hate that feeling, but I can deal with it. Kthx.
9:50 p.m.
This is going to be so emo/goth/stupid... but I have my reasons.
I am a fish in a fishbowl. Or at least, I have been, for the past several days. It was like all the emotion had been bled out of me. And now, I've finally got something that may help me escape. In a sense, I am happy that I can touch upon something human. But what I feel is far from happy.
I need a place for catharsis to take place. But nowhere is safe. I am uncleansed.
"Vash Stampede152: Or just being self-defensive.
vampirebox: That too. Speaks of pain not yet dealt with."
I love irony...
11:13 p.m.
I don't know why I'm waiting here. I should go to bed. I've been awake for 17 hours straight now. I feel like I'm being taken apart while under mild anesthesia. Somehow I feel hopeless. Confused, lost? Blahblahblahwhocares. GothxPainxCut. If I go downstairs, will I cry? Will I laugh, will I fall into the same mechanical routine that I do every other night? Will I plunge myself into darkness and stare at the walls? Will I feel anything at all? Goodnight.
Day 4
2:32 p.m.
Family's in an argumentative state right now. My glasses are broken. They're crooked now. I hate it. It bugs the hell out of my eyes. Earliest I can get them fixed is Tuesday. I blame Fravas. Dipstick. He full out broke them once, so we got them soddered back together. Then he basically smacked me full-on in the face, and twisted my glasses in the process, loosening the soddor. The damn things fell from 3 feet up this morning and fell apart. God.Damn. These things are so vital, I need them to drive, to draw, to read, basically to do anything. That sucks...
Speaking of sucking...
Sam: You suck!
My mom: Oh yeah, long and hard. (or something to that degree...)
Day 5
9:10 a.m.
I'm tired. I woke up at 8:30. Around 8:45 Fuzzy came downstairs to tell me that it was time to eat or some such cal. 15 minutes later I go upstairs and my dad accosts me with all sorts of things: clean your car, go swimming, take the boats out, help me with my software problems, go volunteer at the hospital, at ARF, at the vet, at the computer place in Torrington. Yeah. Okay. I was planning on reading, writing, and drawing today. Bite me. I'm tired as fuck anyways.
3:27 p.m.
Everything's pissing me off. It's too warm. I need more sleep. I feel like shit. I feel like I'm walking through a world of ghosts, nothing's real. I'm bored. There's no fucking point to life. There's no fucking point to anything. Apathy is my best friend. I need sleep. Lots of it. Bye.
Day 7
12:38 a.m.
Everything is going backwards and forwards at the same time. Is that even possible?
2:48 p.m.
We're calling Franz right now. I don't really know why. I sent him an email saying that we would, and I wasn't gonna send it, but Sam sent it.
2:40 p.m.
Franz is not home...
We are sad. ):
Day 8
7:38 a.m.
I like how Fravas never writes in here anymore, and I do. It's like having a one-sided conversation with a cactus.
So I've decided that I need to stop playing hide and seek. Apparently people don't appreciate my skills.
I have so much to say, but my brain hasn't woken up yet. I'm tired. And we're going to the mall today. And then, hopefully I'll be going to see War of the Worlds with Fravas. That should be fun. If my mom doesn't let me go, I'm gonna bust some caps. LONG LIVE WORLD-WIDE PROSTITUTION!
Day 12(I think)
7:51 a.m.
Keef hates me. He gave me such a cold shoulder. I would sooner that he said something mean, or hit me or some such stupidness. I really don't like it when people don't say anything... Being mean is much better.
Well. What else can I write about... Fravas has been talking about conversations he's had with Ben. Oh joy... I can only imagine what Ben must be saying about me, and what Fravas must think about me. Great. Ah well, I suppose a lot of what Ben says must be true. I can't think he'd lie about it, even if he was terribly angry at me. Maybe I really am a yucky person... Hell, Keef rather dislikes me, and I didn't do a damn thing to him. I can only IMAGINE what Ben must have said... Gah, that's bothering me.
So... today I guess I'm going to go for an interview, then go to Thomaston at some point, pick up an application at Dunkin Donuts, drop one off at Rite Aid. I have to call Art Rich or some such bullshit to get my photograph in the yearbook. Fuck it. I don't really give a shit about that. I don't want some camera-weilding asshole all up in my face.
Fravas, has, again kept me up far too late. This can't continue. I'm tired and depressed because I don't get enough sleep. And I thought for sure I was dead meat when I came in the house, but fortunately no one was awake except for Sam. Good ol' Sam.
Aright, well, I'm outta here. FRAVAS. WRITE!!
Day 13
10:59 p.m.
met a stranger on a train
he bumped right into me
i swear i didn't mean it
swear it wasn't meant to be
must've been a dream
from a thousand years ago
i swear i didn't mean it
swear it wasn't meant to be
from the bottom of my heart
he was lookin all over me
you take me and i'll take you
swear it wasn't meant to be
kiss me
kiss me in the shadow
kiss me in the shadow of a doubt
must've been a dream
it's just a dream
i swear it's just a dream
it's just a dream
no no no
take me to him
take me to her
take me to him/her
take me
it's just a dream
it's just a dream
it's just a
it's just a
it's just a dream
met a stranger on a train
he bumped right into me
July 16, 2005
8:20 p.m.
"I found you. You don't have to be afraid anymore."
-A really stupid tv show... bleh.
Today was frustrating. Trapped in a car for 4-5 hours at a time really does it.
The whole freaking time all I thought about were past relationships, why they didn't work out, and Fravas! OOH BOY!
I'm kind of hungry now...
July 18
10:18 p.m.
I need a job.
And I want to go to Fravas' house again. His house is awesome. I want to watch another silly movie and then discuss it and laugh at it. And I want to play hide and seek (npyj esud), and I want to play games and write in code. I want to draw stupid pictures of kitty hookers. And I don't want my parents or Fuzzy (you'll notice that Sam is excluded here because she's just that awesome) to get in the way and ruin our fun.
/run:gothmode
/run:CRAAWWWWWLLLIINNNGGGG IIIIINNNN MYYYY SSSKIIIIINNNNN!!!!!!!! THESE WOOOUUUNDDSSS THEY WILLLLLLL NOOOTT HEEEEAAAALLLLL!!!!!!
/mope
Jluy 19, 2005
7:50 p.m.
I was going to write in my livejournal, because that's where I put all my angst, bitter resentment, depression and wtfever else goths write about. ....
I am SUCH a goth. I'm so serious. I'm the greatest goth ever. Please, someone, IM me and talk to me about gothy things. (btw my AIM sn is c3bula, IM ME I'M AN ATTENTION-WHORE DEPRESSED GOTH WHO WANTS TO DIE) I want to talk about Bauhaus, Voltaire and Jhonen Vasquez. I would like to know more about the Projekt site, and why cutting is so awesome, and will someone PLEASE converse with me about being a vampire... I want to be one oh so badly.
Okay, really, that's not what I came here to write...
Right now, I am a little discouraged. Not only will Fravas not tell me what this metal disc thing is, but it appears that unless one is 18, it's rather difficult to get a job. Bullshit. And Fravas is also sexist. So I'm going to be racist... Puerto Ricans suck! (no offense to anyone but Fravas kthx, as if anyone actually reads this....)
Okay, bye.
July 20, 2005
9:46 p.m.
I remember a book describing depression as a disease once. It said that if we had the chicken pocks or a cold, we'd stay away from people so we couldn't infect them. And being sad or depressed is the same thing. When we're sad, we should stay away from other people.
I can't be close to anyone. Not now, not ever. I have never been able to manage it. I can't maintain relationships. That's just how I am. You get too close, and I back away. I stay inside my sphere. My stupid, hollow, glass sphere. You can see right through it. I wonder if it's got a door... I wonder if all you have to do is request entrance. I wonder if it's just an image and nothing more.
No one needs this from me. It's tough for me, but I know it's just as bad if not worse for those around me.
Oh well, right? That's what everyone always says. Oh well.
All I want is a friend.
Hello, is...
July 28, 2005
8:20 a.m.
Hello. I'm a listener. I listen. And I listen well. I'm also a gamer, of sorts. I find talking to people can be a fun game to play, if you find the right kind of people.
August 1, 2005
12:03 a.m.
Alright. It's too late to be up, I'm so tired. But I can't sleep. I'm paranoid beyond belief. I really want some company... I've been thinking about something someone once told me. That the whole "I don't need anyone" act is bullshit. Obviously, it is. But something else about that statement bothers me.
Want to be my best friend? Let's dance in the street at midnight in the light of that single streetlamp. The one that gets in the way during storms.
Fravas's world
Day 1
Ceb and I decided to stay away from each other for a month. I hate the idea, but it might help by giving us each time to think about what we want.
I woke up at 5:00am today. Got out of bed at 9:30. Thought about her the whole fucking time. Driving me crazy. I'm going to try my best to move on. See if I can get back into the way things were for me. Back when I played games more, thought I was alone, and had nothing better to do than sit at the comp or go out and screw around with people I didn't know and didn't know me.
Went to sleep with her smell in my hand and shirt. Had a dream about pouring water on my keyboard to get a rat out from under the keys.
I can't get her out of my head. It's 1:14 right now and I'm fucking going insane. Is this her way of telling me she doesn't want anything to ever happen? This is torture. I feel like she wants me out of her life. I'm trying my best to feel the same way about her. It's not working yet.
She blocked my AIM name. I should block hers as well, but I figured one is enough. I don't really want to anyway. I've got nothing to do. Nothing I want to do. Just writing here like an idiot. I have 30 more days of this...
I'm so tired, and yet, not. 1:30 right now, I can't play my games. As soon as I load one I just stare at it for a few seconds, and shut it down. I think I'll ask Keith to come over or something. I'll try to convince him to drive us by Jessica's house. See how she's doing and such.
It's 2:46 right now... feeling wrose.
3:09. Went outside to mow the lawn. Got the mower runnning in the driveway. Then got up and left for no reason other than I didn't feel like doing anything.
If I don't move at all, I can feel gravity pulling at each of my cells. It's trippy. I feel like it's going to pull off my skin. It's 3:15.
4:00: Keith finaly called, he's comming over to pick me up, guess we're going to the mall or something to meet new people. Finaly something to pass the time. I can't stand it anymore! It's just me here. I've got no one to talk to, nothing I want to do, nowhere to go. I. Can't. Stand. It.
4:05: This is fucking stupid.
Day 2
Today at 8:00 I woke up, felt great, and did a few chores. At 11:00 I was about done, and decided to go see what email the lovely Ceb decided to send me because I wrote her a rather witty one last night, because I knew how much she liked to get emails. I figured she would respond to it in kind with another (fairly) witty email, as she knew I LOVED witty shit and emails.
We both agreed that a month apart was a stupid fucking moron bullshit idiot dumb ugly butt-munching idea (Really, all it did was get me angry and wonder why the Hell were we doing it. We obviously like to spend time with each other, and to consciously and purposefully spend time AWAY from each other is ludicrous). In the last day, I found that I *could* live my life contently without her, but would rather not, due to the fact that I just like her around.
It's still early, and I have to start cleaning in half an hour. Ceb keeps bugging me for my awesome list. I have it about half done, it's not long or anything, it's just hard to think of, so I'm going on it slowly.
She doesn't like it that I'm the Alpha Male.
Day 3
12:41- I got up at around 8:00 today, mowed the lawn and did a few other chores since then till now. Marcelo and I are about to go to a party in a little bit. I'll write more later. Or never, whichever is sooner...
11:32- Home again, long day, but a good one. Met new people, saw some old ones. Lots of high brow WASPy high salary guys and girls with bitchin educations. Didn't have a lot to talk about with them, I kind of wished I had someone with me on my own level to talk to. Meh. An 11 year old girl who's been a close friend of mine for about 8 years told me that my hair looked better when it was long and curly. That pretty much sets it. I'm growing that shit out.
I want to take Ceb to lots of places.
Day 4
10:18-Communication. I can't live without that shit. I just can't. It doesn't have to be in words, or letters, or even body language. It just has to happen in a way two people understand.
I feel so pushed. Always digging to find something I didn't know, and not being wanted to. I'm about to just stop altogether. What would the point be to dig if I only got myself into a hole?
I hate being pushed away. I hate feeling unwanted. Oh well. I'll deal with it right?
Today was nothing special.
Day 8
10:28pm- Fuck, she figured out that I don't write in here all the time!
Today is, and will be, nothing special. Again. It's so boring without the adorable Ceby!
I had an odd conversation with Ben yesterday. It was quite� odd. It was filled with awkward moments, innuendos and unsaid thoughts. We kept a lot back from each other, then again, there was no point in talking about what we kept back, we both knew what it was about, and what the other person would say. I saved the conversation, for whatever reason.
I would so much like to run away from reality with someone I liked...
Day, who knows?
Two sides to the same story. Two plus one. Then two minus one plus another? Interesting. Do I know what I'm doing? Getting myself into something I might regret?
No, I don't regret my actions, even the bad ones. They make me who I am today. I don't know what I'm doing, that's why I'm doing it.
My friends don't like what I'm doing. They think they know the people I like. "I know that type man. It's the same fucking depressed goth shit I KNOW you hate, 'Ooh, I need love, ooh I'm lonely, give me compliments and attention because I can't live by myself like a fucking normal person.' Why do you do this?" They're right, but they're wrong too. I do this because I want more. But I don't want what comes with it. I hate drama, and I desire simplicity. It's my taste, it's what I prefer. My friends know this. The people I want to be more than friends with acknowledge this. But I am left in a pool of drama, not drowning, just wadding. Seemingly stagnate.
I don't have to keep swimming. I'm not far from the shore. Why don't I just go back to the sandy shore, and back where I knew I was content, happy and alone? I know the answer to that stupid question, "Because I've already been to the shore." I've already felt the sand, and the sun. I want to swim to the middle of the ocean, to see what I have not seen, to feel what I have not felt. If what I learn and experience harms me, then so be it. I don't want to live in ignorance of a said feeling. I don't care if I only find pain, I want more than joy in my limited life. There is little reason for me to go back to the way things were. I liked the past more but I don't want it. I want the unknown. I want to drown in it.
There is another reason... But I ignore it...
I don't like drama now. At the moment, I hate it. I hate being pushed away, I hate constantly looking, I hate pushing and not feeling a push back. I hate it.
But then again,
I am ever changing. Tomorrow I will be a different person than I am today. And again, a new person on the day after, and the day after that day, and the day after that day, and so on. I will change who I am. Even if it's in small, miniscule ways that no one notices, whether I want to or not.
There is no constant to anyone. We change, we always change. To stand idly by one belief for the rest of your life might be an orderly and controlled statement, but you can't stop change. You can't ignore it. I nod to the passing of change, and will even embrace it at times. Why fear it? It will come. It may be unknown to me, but I desire the unknown.
Interesting, I wonder if that means I desire change. I suppose I do. Always changing. Become polymorphic. A doppelganger.
July 14
I bumped into a girl on my lonely path.
Our paths might split later, but right now, she's in my reach.
We're holding hands now. Even if it's just for now.
Listening to Loreena McKennitt now, want to move.
Floopy brain right now... hard to think.
Blunder bolb; "drumbble dum." Dum glop, Quazicuotikull.
/laugh
July 19
12:32pm
Applied for a job at the Village store today. Told the guy I would work any hours, for a decent wage. Thought about the hours though, don't really want them in the way of my personal life, like work seems to do to Rich and a few others.
Yesterday was fun, Ceb and I fought each other over my little *medallion* for a while, I ended up with a few scratches and bruises more than I already have. I just can't bear to tell her what it really is, because it's MUCH to fun to wrestle it out of her pockets. We typically moped and downloaded songs. Wish we could do more, like go for walks, games (Ones that she has a chance at beating me), talks about nothing, and wtfever.
I find myself wanting more and more to say something I didn't want to say. And I think everyone knows what it is I want to say, hah.
We were talking about living with each other... not sure what to think of that.
11:11pm This isn't me. She is different. Can I stand this? Yes. Do I want to? ... I don't know. Let's stop. Just stop. Just like that. For no reason. ... No. Not yet. Not enough reason to. Jeez. I don't even mean this. I heard what they all said. Ben, Keith, Brian, Richi, even Kyle. I can't ignore what they say, what they have seen. It's strange, how I feel by myself still. It's one sided. Uneven. Forget it. I'll deal with it later.
