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2001-07-05 || 10:30 a.m. || 2.5. || i just erased an entry. because it was embarrassing. and i ended up sounding whiny and. i don't want to sound whiny. even though i am very good at sounding whiny. whiny. is a funny word when you look at it for too long. but. alright. i am going to try again. but without the whine. yesterday was my birthday and i woke up grumpy and sad and i'm not usually like that on birthdays. but 25 is a bad number, it makes all the difference, and the night before i was trying to record how things were at that very moment and i did not like what i came up with. it's all the undone things that are making me sad. frustrated. wanting to run away but to nowhere i can think of. the same old things i run in circles over- going back to school, commiting myself to writing, making things. not letting myself be numb. to dumb jobs. and sitting around not doing things. using not having enough money as an excuse for everything. but i woke up and it was already all over. c said we could do anything i wanted. anything. but i couldn't think of anything. blank. numb. black. he had come over armed with pancake mix and orange juice and milk and presents: fancy silverware because i am always coming up short and a paint-by-numbers picture of a horse i have always coveted at the rite-aid. he spent the whole night before painting it. had dried paint on his fingernails. and i was sitting on my bed in my pajamas, all disheveled and surly, and couldn't think of what to do. i didn't really want to do anything except sit on the carpet and keep notes of all the people who weren't calling me (that is the part i find annoying. and whiny. and what. selfish? but it's true. and so many people didn't call. best best friends. ex-boyfriends. but matt did, thank you matt. and scott. and mum and da.). but. we went to the mission and i got my favorite burrito at taqueria el toro... veggie burrito with refried beans and grilled garlic mushrooms stuffed in there special, even though i am always too afraid to ask for it. and we drove to pacifica and lay on the beach under my mum's quilt and weathered the windy cold and fog. most of the fireworks went off while we were driving. and i realized i hate the sound of fireworks because it sounds like war. but we got home and played gin rummy and drank beer and listened to new music and that was nice. but i still curse the 2-5. i still feel unshakably emo. close to tears for no good reason at all. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |