A heightened awareness of my heart beating, palpitations, accompanied by a more than needed awareness of myself and of the softness of everything. Soft skin, soft lips, soft hair, soft shirt, soft touch shirt gives, soft fingernails, soft eyelashes, soft bed sheets, soft words, soft pillow, soft bed, soft buttons, soft feeling. Last night as I drifted off to sleep abstracts thoughts of softness danced around me and I saw my bones fold in. I really haven't the slightest idea what it's about. Or why I feel it, or why I've only felt it since I came back. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. God,I am so sorry. I don't know what for, for you, for me, I don't know, I just feel sorry as fuck. Sorry that I can't where that polka dotted shirt and sorry that I'm here, and that I still don't know what I want and that I don't think I ever will. Sorry that my stomach is still in knots and that I miss it. This isn't what I came to write about. Get out of my mind. Blech. Giving blood, maybe, if my heart isn't a problem. I'm terrified of needles and am fully ready to cry/laugh/hyperventilate in front of a total stranger in order to possibly save someone. I hope I get to. Well not cry and giggle crazily, but give blood. Anyway, I must be going before my thoughts eat my very being. Quote of the Day: ~“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.”~ --Roger Miller

Alaska died, she fucking died. Yeah, I knew it was going to happen, I read the review, but god, she's gone. And poor, poor Miles. Can we please just wait for Alaska? The book's great, really, but I can't read another damned page of it until I write in my sad little journal that I abuse with drama and melancholy phases. Sorry Journal. I knew she was going..but I became so attached to her, to her and Miles together. And the whole time I was reading and they were hooking up, though they both had significant others, I couldn't stop thinking about someone I shouldn't. I don't know anything anymore, my mind is on this whole flipping from one mood to another rampage and I can never quite keep up. I watched Lost in Translation last night and thought about everything they say to one another, how reckless they are, how beautiful. It's a great movie, just like he said. And I of course teared up at the end. Do you want me to tell you what he says at the of Lost in Translation? Yes whispers,I won't let this come between us. And you didn't, not really, I wish I didn't live so far away, but even if I were closer.. would things really be different? Things seem to be failing in my life, big time. And as anxious and fucked I am about these things I can't help but reflect on the transience of life. Everything ends. I wish it didn't sometimes. I wish there was a way to hide inside a thought or a memory, to hide inside a song, or a dance, or a kiss, or the warmth of a blue walled room. I also wish I weren't so damn sentimental. Honestly, I really just want to get high right now and laugh a lot about nothing in particular. I want to go away to that safe haven that is Arkansas, I'll be there in a couple of months, I'll be away in a sense. There's so much in life I have yet to experience, and there are so many things I most likely won't experience. I don't know how I feel about the latter just yet, but I want to do something about the former. I just want to take some chances, I just want to feel like I'm living. I just want to have that incredibly free feeling, that feeling of moving, even if what you're doing is not what you want. As long as you're doing something. It just always seems like I will be running in place. I will always play it safe, I will never do what I want, because I don't know what that is. Everything is so complicated, I just want to lie in the grass and watch the clouds pass...in silence. But not everyone knows that want for silence, that want for quiet understandings. Maybe I don't even, really. I don't know if you really read this, or if it really was your friend, or if you'll ever read this again. But I'm going to say it anyway, because I can't say it to you, because I live in fear. Be happy, you deserve it, be happy and do what you want. I know you have a great sense of life and I love the way you think, and I'm probably not giving you any advice you haven't already thought of yourself. But dammit, you're such a great person and I know you don't always or ever think that, but you are. Whatever you decide to do in life, no matter what it is, I will always be there for you, encouraging you, no matter how much it hurts me. Because at some point life just has to stop being about yourself and more about the ones you love. And I just want you to know, that I will always be here for you, even when I'm long since passed, even if you don't realize it, even if I get moody like I do. I care for you deeply, as a friend or a lover, or whatever you want to be. I know in some sense I've told you this before, but writing it here just makes it seem a bit more final, it gets it out of my thoughts at least, I hope. Take care, Joel. My head is fucking pounding. Quote of the Day: ~"There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats."~ --Albert Schweitzer I'm thinking about trying to get a hold of a 'how to deal with anxiety' book, or buying one over the summer. And really reading it this time, and really taking it to heart. But I'm never sure about such things. I guess, I'm scared to find out and show others who I am under all the anxiety and shyness. Have a good week everyone. Don't die, or try not to.