hey guess what. that dream meant something. i asked austen if he'd been coughing up anything weird recently. and he asked why. so i told him about that dream. and i told him i'd coughed up blood right after. he told me that it had been exactly one year since his lung collapsed. i get really scared about him sometimes. i just finished watching AlphaDog. one of the best movies i've seen in a while. and i need to wake up in about three or four hours. i've got to go to wrestling at like 7 in the fucking morning. when i get back i'm going to a show. then i'm getting really fucked up sunday night.

it was just the two of us. him [in his black wife beater, on his black sheets] and me [i was in a bathing suit. it was black too.] he'd gone to the doorway to check they were all gone. and not coming back. they weren't. but his face was so different when he returned to me. it was fucking distorted. scary. i didn't know him and i wanted to leave. but i didn't. and i let him kiss me. but his mouth was full of this fluid. it was thick. and it tasted awful. and i had to pull away. i turned my head and let out all of this... this red and black liquid. i was throwing up on his bed because when he kissed me his mouth was full of that red and black goo. i was freaking out trying to make it stop. but he just sat there. and then i woke up. i swear these horrid dreams are keeping me awake. and they're always about austen. always. and the worst part is they've been coming true. i hope that one doesn't. i really fucking do.

sometimes it's necessary to put your body through physical shock. if you really want to feel anything... you've got to feel everything first. my knuckles don't bruise very easily. but they still fucking kill. flexing is like throwing every punch all over again. i got in a fight with myself last night. i seriously think boxing is the best thing that's ever happened to me. that rush of anger and pain and physical brutality is my catharsis. haha look at me. pretending i do a sport. no. i pick fights with walls. it's great because they just stand there and take it. you know that saying "if walls could talk..." my walls wouldn't talk. they'd scream.

sometimes. when i talk to people. i feel like i'm standing in a snowstorm. and it swallows every sound. all my words are eaten up by this empty void of silence. and there's only so many times i can go unanswered before i just stop trying at all. i started watching FightClub last night. it was really good. i had read the book this summer (it was a book first) so i was worried it wouldn't live up to it, but it did. it was the exact words and story on film. such a beautifully orchestrated tale of destruction. "you have to lose everything before you can do anything."

i keep seeing things moving along the floor. dark things. animals that should not be there. i mean i know nothing's there, i really do. i know that i'm just seeing things. but i still see them. black creatures are always scampering around my line of vision. this sounds so crazy. but it happens. i swear it does. anyways. my sleep schedule is a strain. i'm always so tired. but when the time comes to sleep, i can't keep my eyes shut. it's because it's at night. i love being the only one conscious. the only one alive in a house of breathing cadavers. but just because it's enjoyable doesn't mean it's voluntary too. i've been awake so long, i don't know how to be anything else. plus those dark critters i was talking about keep me on my toes. part of me is scared that if i sleep too long, they'll all come out of hiding. re-appear and race towards my lifeless body in hopes of taking over. i hate thinking about that. also jason asked me to sleep over. to attend an event with people i see everyday but would never speak to. and can't tell if i want to go or not. i know if i go, we will end up in a dark room together without our clothes. but to be honest that is okay. i love the false affection. and the guilt and stress will help me stay awake.

today i got really dizzy. like the kind of dizzy where i almost blacked out. that hasn't happened in a while. i hate those colored christmas lights. they're too showy. too insincere. i just like the plain white ones. they're hanging outside my windows. they're so honest. i like watching them. i haven't slept well ever since the dance. maybe three or four hours in total. and tonight a person turned into a garbage can. or maybe the garbage can turned into a person. i don't know. either way it was a strange occurence. maybe a trick of the light. i can't tell. it was so fast and sudden. but i'm in one of those lucid moods. and i realized that white lights make everything so pretty. Decomposer: 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 11, 13.

the intentions were clear. they were just for the moment. three to five songs is all i'm keeping you for then it's time to change partners. and i am okay with that. that's my preference. because people aren't meant to stay forever. it bothers me when they pretend they are. plus it's empowering to be the one to move on. and waking up with the breath of others on my lips is a sign of success. i've come to learn the affection of strangers is the best medication. plus i got the boy in the hat. my target. and the rest were all attractive. i didn't lower my standards. and i beat heather. for the first time i won. i couldn't sleep at all. i went to bed at 6 in the morning. woke up at 9. my legs still ache. and my mouth still tastes like the boy in the blue shirt. new additions: 3 final count: 23

sometimes i worry the people i converse with aren't real. as in everyone else exists except those i feel comfortable with. like i'm tricking myself into making a bond. and everyone thinks i'm crazy. talking to no one. at least talking to no one anyone else can see. but i think they're real. i really do because they're just like everyone else. just like all those other normal legitimate people. what if that's true? i'm talking to air? conversing with apparitions? what must people think? i see people talking to themselves sometimes and think "what sort of mental condition must they have?" i know i enjoy self-preservation, but to fool myself into secure friendships? could i go that far? i should hope not. last night i tired staying awake. i watched a few episodes of DeadLikeMe on dvd. quality show. sleep deprivation is a strange thing. it opens your mind. allows you to see beyond the surface world. that's not always good though. it's kindof like how when you don't eat for a few days and you start blacking out. at first you think you're seeing things because it comes in traveling spots that fly across your line of vision. but then more and more black spots show up and soon you can't see at all. anyways i've been lying about dinner lately. but not tonight tonight tonight. austen taught me that deprivation makes you appreciate things more. if you feel pain, put yourself through more pain. because then the initial hurt won't be as bad. you'll have proof it can be worse. evidence that complaints and whines are stupid. verification that tears and emotion is weakness. and when you can take it without a sound, bruises turn into badges of strength. cuts and scratches are the markings of success. it's all about hiding what can't be mastered. keeping things under control. because control is key.

my fingers finally stopped shaking. so hopefully this will work. also http://www.songmeanings.net/journals/view/17222240/ i got tired of the metaphors. i'll be writing for real here.