It is so strange to me how such nice things can be said to me, and I can still feel so sad. Yet, I watch perhaps one of the saddest, most insecurity provoking films I know of, and I feel okay. While I was watching (500)Days of Summer I started to think about something that silly boy would always tell me about, about how everything is transient. Well, you know what? I think maybe he was right, but I don't think that it really even matters. Watching that movie again made me realize that even though the ending is sad, and his heart lays wheezing on his apartment floor, it just really does not matter at all. It doesn't matter because they had those moments, those lovely bright blue moments in the sunshine and in the gloom. Maybe things are transient in relationship. I'm certain they are, in fact. However, maybe for some people they are in a different way. Maybe we'll be some people, maybe we won't. Maybe we will love and live for three months, or three years, or until we're old or dead. Or maybe we'll never even get that far. Right now though, that doesn't really matter to me because I am feeling alright. I wasn't last night, but I am now. Maybe that's not okay, not normal, but...oh well. The truth of the matter is that I don't think when we meet someone we'll know how long we'll love them or how long we won't. There is no meant to be, or going to be, or seeing you in the future because I feel it in my heart. There is here, and there is now. I know I'm being overly optimistic and maybe all that indie music lifted my heart higher than it should be held, but I think I'm going to try to remember this moment in the time to come. It is going to be a trying time, I could really use this sort of feeling though it. I think I'll call tomorrow. This morning I realized that I was really, truly at the end, and if I didn't get this fixed, if I didn't have that silly boy to tie me down, then I don't think I'd be sticking around too much longer. So, tomorrow, I'm going to call. I'm probably going to cry afterward and be scared to death, but I'm going to call. Then I'm going to go shopping and wear those purple textured stockings that make my legs look longer than they ever could be. I think I'm finally ready. Quote of the Day: ~“Fanatics in power and the funnel of a tornado have this in common - the narrow path in which they move is marked by violence and destruction”~ ---Oscar Wilde

My fingers clamber over the keys in an attempt to give my thanks, but the truth is I have never been as eloquent as I'd like to fancy myself as. My body shakes and all I can think is, ''no, no, no, it's not real, no, it didn't happen. I made it up! I swear it! I swear it!" but your voice on the other end makes it all too real. All I want to feel is the fast motion of my legs running free in an open skirt, just trying to get away. Truthfully, I still just want to try and get away, but I know you're right. I know I must go back, I know I must face these demons and feel. I must feel, the one thing I've had the most struggle with. I can't focus on the negative though, I can't do that to myself anymore. At the end of this, I will come through the tunnel, a lot stronger, a lot healthier. I won't flinch as much and be so afraid, I will be a little closer to okay. I cannot thank you enough, forever I will be grateful. I know I say this a lot, but I don't know where I'd be if you weren't here, to figuratively hold my hand through this, to hear your voice on the other end of my cellular phone. I'm going to emerge from this, better than what I was when I began. I'm going to say everything I can think to, and not hold so much back this time. It is most comforting to know you aren't leaving because of this, that you are still the same. Now look, I've gone and used too many you's and many I's. It's time enough to say goodbye. Quote of the Day: ~“I like to feel the burn of the audience's eyes when I'm whispering all my darkest secrets into the microphone”~ --Conor Oberst

A week or two ago was Han's birthday. To celebrate we went to Evans with Mac, Sey, Jare, Kiny, and Sey's boyfriend Ben. Ben lives in Evans so we didn't pick him until we got there. He is a really sweet kid, he's smart and listens to good music. He and Sey look so nice together. I first met Sey a while back at McDonald's. He is Han's friend, he's gay, as I'm sure you've put together. He's that sort of person that I've read about. He sometimes seems less like a real person and more like a character from the Great Gatsby. He doesn't care about what people think, he says what he pleases, and he laugh with such a strange flutter. He is a small framed boy, with black hair, but has a personality that overflows his frame. On the way to Evans Sey talks loudly and Jare and I speak to one another, joking and bitching about school. Occasionally Kiny steps in, such a sweet girl she is, but not always the brightest. Our conversations intertwine and break as we travel in Han's mother's mazda van. I mentally imagine the lines of conversation and feel nice as I am able to soak in my friends from the back of the mazda. We pick up Ben and Kiny gets in back with Jare and I. We make our way to the Asian market, I buy noodles, cream, and honey twists. I text Camden in between the aisles my friends occupy and smile a smile not one of them know what is for. We leave the market and make our way to the mall. Kiny is going to buy the Kesha album, we all poke fun at her, but she is still happy with her purchase. Han buys an album Sey has been raving about, by the xx. We meet another friend who buys Han earrings and a cut out of Edward, she photos with it and we all laugh. I ride the carousel with Jare in the mall, and get a horse stamp on my left hand. We leave and go to Denny's. We get a large table in the back, Sey and Ben are seated across from Han and I, Jare is on the end with Kiny. Ben tells us how he used to be really into drugs and how he's glad to be cleaner. He tells us he's a vegan turned vegetarian, and that he's nervous about his new dorm. Sey and Ben talk about the trouble of being gay, and what bullshit comes with it. Ben, Sey, and I talk for a lengthy time of music. They know some of what I listen to and my cheeks burn with excitement. Our food is brought out and I lift my cup of coffee, tick the side with a butter knife, and make a toast to my lovely friend Han and her birthday, we all smile and it is a nice moment. Han tells me of how thoughtful I am and Sey lavishes the moment as well. We eat but conversation never dwindles. My sister texts me, and asks if I know what yesterday was. I say no..yesterday had been the anniversary of Rob's death. I begin to cry, and everyone comforts me as I choke out what has happened. After eating we commence to take Ben to his dorm, and hang out with him there. It is a small, strange dorm, it reminds me of a 90's sitcom. We crowd into Ben's room and look all around. Sey turns to me as my mood is gradually turning grey, and hugs me. I stand on my tiptoes in order to rest my chin on his shoulder. His hug feels meaningful and lingers in my mind for the rest of the night. We sit in the small living space, which is dirty and odd. I tell Camden I'm sorry for being so doubtful and that I do love him, that he means so much to me, and I don't mean to be how I am. I'm feeling regretful and grey. We leave and Sey stays inside to say goodbye to Ben. As we had left Denny's I saw a couple entering, they looked to be about eighteen. Neither was beautiful or interesting looking, but the way he held the door for her and look down at her forward smile made me envy them. They made me ache, for the they were not special, but they had spark, they had what looked like love. I tell Camden of this, I wish I could give him that, I wish I could give him what he wants. He makes the point we live ten plus hours away. Sey opens the doors and spits out, 'fuck long distance,' but he looks sad. In that moment, I hate him, and I hate Kiny, they live within driving distance of who they love, at least. I hate me for having to lock it up. We drive homeward and I continue to text Camden, who is growing seemingly warn down. I feel drab and upset. Sey hands his phone to me, it reads; Is it just me or is it really obnoxious in here? I agree. I then write to him I apologize for being so grey tonight, and for him meeting me like this. He replies; Babe, I understand. The XX plays on the way home, and before we reach Sey's place of residence, we begin talking about his poor memory of people. He turns to me and says, 'I never did forget you,' I smile and feel nice, but empty in the same turn. Before he departs he kisses everyone on the cheek and Han follows him inside. She returns, and before ten minutes are over, I'm home again. Sorry for the length, I needed to get this out. Quote of the Day: ~"I aimed at the public's heart, and by accident I hit it in the stomach." --Upton Sinclair

I'm so insecure. I hate it. Lately it's more than just physically, it's everything. I feel like I'm not worth the time of others. It doesn't even make sense. I start to feel so sad and lonely, so self hating, and then you drop one of those lines that makes me turn my head and smile, all the hatred disappears, but it always seems to come back. I know it's not true, I know it. I just feel so scared. As though you're only lying to spare my feelings. When I think this way I feel so guilty and horrid. I sometimes wish you hadn't told me what you said to her, but I'm also glad you didn't hide it. On a positive note I've been emotionally exhausted lately, so I've been sleeping a little more. It seems I can sleep much better after the sun rises. Unfortunately this isn't exactly plausible for me since I wake before the sun. I was feeling rather optimistic this morning, but then I fell asleep for thirty minutes and had a horrible dream. In it I was so sad, watching someone I love further himself from me. I felt insecure in it, just as I am now. I wish things didn't affect me so easily. I wonder if other people are like this. Quote of the Day: ~“One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries.”~ --A.A. Milne

Some days I still feel like giving up, hanging up my coat, and calling it quits. Some days I don't have the courage to get out of bed, so I sleep a few more hours until someone else wakes me. Some days I ache with such a longing pain that I throw up. I keep telling myself that I'll start writing and practicing piano again, but everyday I don't. The other night I thought about calling, because I really scared myself. Then I thought about how most people seem to tell you that there's too much beauty to let go. However, at this moment I thought about beautiful things and they held no true meaning. Nothing seems to really have much meaning to me. Mostly because I think about how I'm going to die and these things won't have mattered anyway. Sometimes I think about how I have a pretty interesting life story, so far anyway, and that maybe someday I could write about it, like Bukowski did. Then I realize that Bukowski is dead, and that his story only lives in the hearts of the breathing. At then end of the day, he is still dead. On my Singulair bottle it said, 'if sadness, depression, or fear occur, contact your doctor.' I told my mother about it, she said she'd set up and appointment. I'm half afraid that may be all that is wrong with me; this square pill I've been taking for the past 4 years. The other half is afraid that that isn't what's wrong with me. I'm afraid I'm not ever going to be happy for more than a few hours again. Then again, I'm afraid I will be. Memories seem to really stab me lately. I'm afraid I'm only making memories and that I will end up the way I wanted to a few months ago. I won't for now though, I have some promises to keep. Quote of the Day: ~"It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness." --Leo Tolstoy

Mostly I just like to sit up talk to someone, listen to some indie, and try to write a little. Lately, Dar stays up with me, and watches porn in the room in front of me. Every time a song changes, I hear a little moan, or some shitty acting. Maybe he's trying to tell me something. I really don't give a fuck. I like to have sex, a lot, but I'm not going to take his stupid little signs. Frankly, I liked it better when he just went to sleep. I hate listening to porn. Watching it is okay, sometimes, but listening to it just makes it sound so much more stupid than what it already is. Sometimes it feels like my mind's in a haze and though I try I can never convey the right thing. Close, but no cigar, I guess I won't be getting that prize after all. Quote of the Day: ~“It's no wonder that truth is stranger than fiction. Fiction has to make sense.”~ --Mark Twain

Some things that I love: The colors blue, green, and grey. Poetry and the writings of sad, drunk old men. The way a smile is universal, and that laughter is the same in every language. How when a person looks when they are running after another, but not sprinting. I love strange jewelry and clothing, on not so strange looking people, my cat's pink nose and peculiar grin, the way our greeting is to sniff one another's face,the smell of old books, fresh coffee, glass work, films- especially indie and french, blankets and piles of them, feeling secure and snug in them, the way I sometimes laugh with someone so much they laugh because I am and it continues from there, the way my best friend's voice tightens and relaxes, deepens and heightens when talks to me, forearms and the shape of people, language, conversations, pointless prittle pattle, the delightful rings and tears of nature, walking across and crunching both snow and fallen autumn leaves, voices and singing, letters, stamps, and news, people watching, black hair, clavicles, men's ties tucked into sweaters with a collared shirt, Suss's silliness, music that makes me feel relaxed, passionate thinking, science, and finally Camden. Quote of the Day: ~"“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”~ --Lao Tzu

I suppose I've been writing quite a lot lately. Tonight, four poems, and this journal entry. I've only been on the computer for about thirty minutes. Words pour from my finger tips in an unconscious manner. Poetry isn't really my strong suite, but it gets me by. I've been writing them short, I like them that way. Short and sweet, right? What if we don't get to follow one another into the dark? The promise I have with Trev might be a false one. In the Christmas aisle at Big Lots Han points to a tub of candies, 'My aunt always bought those when she was alive,' she says in an off tone voice. I turn my face to the side, tears form but I choke them back and do my best to smile softly at her. I hope my smiles aren't as sad as they feel. Quote of the Day ~“Perfection is finally attained not when there is no longer anything to add but when there is no longer anything to take away, when a body has been stripped down to its nakedness”~ -- Antoine de Saint-Exupery quotes The Auschwitz sign was stolen on Friday, isn't that sad? Perhaps all we'll ever be are the memories we leave behind, and when our children and our children's children die, we will be gone forever. I wish I had the ability to simply not think about depressing things. Maybe that's a choice too, and like usual I'm just not trying hard enough. I applied at McDonald's this morning. Not exactly my dream job, but I need something to occupy me. Something I can do my best to throw myself into. I'd much rather be stressed out from too many things than from my own thoughts. If I just busy myself enough all of this will go away.

I don't want to be the ever so sweet hurting your teeth. I want to keep baking cakes for you, but I don't at the same time. This journal isn't enough anymore it seems, but who can I trust? Everyone wants to be that person, but only out of self gain or satisfaction. I'm the worst creature to ever crawl this earth. I am low and cowardly. I blame and I cry, and I throw up when I eat because I'm only hungry until I smell food. I hate my appetite, not even my body wants me to live. How can you love me? How can you think all of this about me? I'm not this sweet intelligent person. I'm a fake, I'm a liar, I'm a whore, I'm the worst of the worst. What is there to love? I'm not funny, I'm not outgoing, I'm not pretty, or lovely, or interesting. I'm mediocre in all I do. I'm best at nothing. I'll always be second place, in school, in line, in life. Don't you see what I see? I'm bitter and quiet, controlled and unhappy, I'm messed up, you know? I'm so fucking messed up. And I used those ear things, and I'm still spinning. I'm a spinning mess, don't you see? Why won't you see! All I want to do is cry, and when you leave and go out, I will. I'll do just that, that's one thing I am good at. I started thinking about suicide again. That scares me. Maybe I'm not better, maybe I never will be. I'm scared and upset. I just want to be with you. I want to feel safe, like when I was little. Maybe you were wrong, maybe, maybe I am broken. I feel the constant need for self punishment, but I can't figure out the best way to do it. I used to burn myself, but that's not enough. I wish I could just be happy (it's a choice....) Why am I so unhappy? Quote of the Day: ~“A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want?”~ --Oscar Wilde

She's driving and thinking about the one she loves in the city, and the man she's with in the country. Her leather gloves on, grasping loosely around the steering wheel, tremble a tiny amount. She's flustered and excited, she's decided, and now she's going through with it. The few seconds of the scene taking place in the car tell the viewer she's going to do it. Their hearts race alongside hers. It doesn't matter if the man at home is a drunk, a jerk, a guy her parents wanted her to marry, a sweet lover, a good man, or just not as good as the other. None of this matters to them for they love the one in the city, the camera is on him most of the time anyway. She walks into the door and doesn't undo her scarf, snowflakes flurry in with her, she looks him in the eye as he shoots her an inquisitive look. She tells him it's over, she's sorry, she loves him but she loves the man in the city more. She leaves before he can say anything. The camera looks down on the shut door and the few snowflakes still coming in. The next scene she's in his arms, and she is as happy as can be. They are meant to be. The camera and the story never show the man though. His heart break, his surprise, his ache, his feelings...he doesn't matter to us, maybe he wasn't as handsome. Quote of the Day ~"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show."~ --Andrew Wyeth Do you like to hurt? I do, I do.