 |
| Clever Girl... >> Myself >> Pearls of Wisdom >> Part 11 03 Feb 2002 - He's always, always in my mind, not as a pleasure, but as my own being... Wuthering Heights. Perhaps the sickest love story of all time. How I wish I had more time to read. 04 Feb 2002 - What am I to do with my life? How am I supposed to know what's right? I still don't, naturally, know what I want. I don't trust people at all lately. I'm overcome by paranoia, as though everyone is out to get me. I don't think this is good. Everyone says trust is the most important aspect of any relationship - and they don't just mean being trustworthy. They also mean possessing the ability to trust others. I don't know if I really possess that at the moment. 11 Feb 2002 - And I hope you find some time to drop a note, but if you won't, then you won't... You know, I could write something about being a 'good feminist', or about elitism, or about arbitrary divisions between high and low culture... but I can't be bothered. Lately it just doesn't matter. The world itself is exciting in its banal little superficial way, but there's not much of any real substance to think about. |
| 12 Feb 2002 - You've wiped your hands clean of me... Oh yes... the feeling that I actually had a CHOICE as to what happens. Does it really matter thought? More likely not... seeing as I don't know what I would do. Both choices are equally unappealing... so I guess I'm just lucky that I don't have one. ;) 14 Feb 2002 - Every day she wears the same thing, I think she smokes pot, she's everything I want, she's everything I'm not... Talking to her does make me feel slightly smaller and slightly more pathetic, but it doesn't bother me so much because it's based on personality rather than physical appearance and material goods... it seems less unfair. 16 Feb 2002 - Oh how lovely it must be... It's more than a little neurotic to write 2 entries in one day, isn't it? I guess this just goes to show that I really musn't be happy lately. I mean, ever since *censored event* I've been scribbling away, complaining, but of late I've been writing every few days. You see, for the most part, I only write in here because I feel a compulsion to, because I need to soothe myself by writing. And lately... I feel the need to soothe myself. 17 Feb 2002 - A blast from the past... (actually written in November) I can't wait to go home, to escape from these people - and the asshole that my former "soulmate" has become. 20 Feb 2002 - Only angels have wings... Dear readers, I have seen the dark underbelly of humanity. It is you, it is me, and we're all going to hell in a handbasket. In fact, the only person I know whom I can definitively say ISN'T going to hell in a handbasket is Chantelle, which probalby means that there's a lot to say for Catholicism. 19 March 2002 - Say you're happy now, once more with feeling... It's sad but telling that I would begin this journal on an unhappy note. I've spent the past two-and-a-half weeks on a wave of glorious happiness, and yet it's not until now that I actually put pen to paper... or finger to keyboard as the case really is. 22 March 2002 - It's not her fault that she's so irresistible... I can't even begin to say how stupidly excited I am. 23 March 2002 - A borrowed dream or superstar... Michaela Morgan was the ideal feminine creation of my imagination, and as such probably embodied better than any of the others my dreams, aspirations, and the neuroses I still hold with me today. She, like the others, is myself - only better. 29 March 2002 - I looked above the other day, 'cause I think that I'm good and ready for a change... Think of it this way. Nothing's going to change tomorrow. And Sunday is just tomorrow's tomorrow, so nothing's going to change then, either. Keep going like that - so on, and so forther, on and on, round and round we go - 365 days pass and nothing happens. Because it's just 365 tomorrow's in which nothing can possibly happen. 3650 days pass - still nothing happens, because it's just 3650 tomorrows, we follow the pattern, and it HAS to remain the same. Because there seems to be no chance for anything to change tomorrow, or next week, or even next month, because next month is only 4 weeks away, my 21st birthday only 50 weeks away, my 30th birthday only 518 weeks away... and it seems like so much, but if each tiny unit is the same... the whole remains the same. previous back |