WRITTEN ON THURSDAY: i'm pretty sure I have some sort of complex that makes it so whenever the weekend comes up, i get so focused on it that i can't concentrate on anything else. i'm worried. oh well. it's not as if I don't have people i can count on, it's just that...well, i don't know. There are better things i could focus on that happened today, such as finally having a good conversation with you and being pleasantly surprised at how similar we are. you said it yourself. and you told me you'd been lonely, and my heart went out to you and major regret sank in. i should have, could have, would have, done more for you. i knew there was some reason i'd been drawn to you in september. also, i could focus on what went down in safeway today, my part in it, it's implications.
WRITTEN TODAY: Oh madelaine! Oh madelaine! i don't understand. All i need is for you to hug me and say that we're ok. i don't understand it. i'm going to go to bed and listen for the answer. "when i was little i used to think i knew everything. now i know more and i still know everything" it's not true. i know nothing. i don't know what i want, more importantly: i don't know what i need, and of uttermost importance: i don't know who i am.
someone who's friends confuse them? someone who is known for being both innocent and shitfaced all the time? someone who tries too hard to feel liked? someone who is ok with stealing shit? I don't know if this is just obliviousness or naivety because i'm not like you noelle, i need people. I need them! i'm striving for that obscure beauty that exists in taking mundane things and capturing their importance. my thoughts are all scrambled, this is certainly the most cracked and raw they have been in a while. claire where are you? And YOU! your presence lingers in my mind like the stench of cheap perfume and campfire and old wine. it's suffocating me and i can't breathe properly. everything is always tentative with you and me and everybody else, there is never anything concrete and it stinks of indecsiveness and it irritates me.
I had a dream this morning, i was driving in the car with my mother and she drove off the edge of the road and off a cliff. For a second or two, we hung in midair like smoke before disappearing down the valley. it hurt when we died.
WRITTEN TODAY: Oh madelaine! Oh madelaine! i don't understand. All i need is for you to hug me and say that we're ok. i don't understand it. i'm going to go to bed and listen for the answer. "when i was little i used to think i knew everything. now i know more and i still know everything" it's not true. i know nothing. i don't know what i want, more importantly: i don't know what i need, and of uttermost importance: i don't know who i am.
someone who's friends confuse them? someone who is known for being both innocent and shitfaced all the time? someone who tries too hard to feel liked? someone who is ok with stealing shit? I don't know if this is just obliviousness or naivety because i'm not like you noelle, i need people. I need them! i'm striving for that obscure beauty that exists in taking mundane things and capturing their importance. my thoughts are all scrambled, this is certainly the most cracked and raw they have been in a while. claire where are you? And YOU! your presence lingers in my mind like the stench of cheap perfume and campfire and old wine. it's suffocating me and i can't breathe properly. everything is always tentative with you and me and everybody else, there is never anything concrete and it stinks of indecsiveness and it irritates me.
I had a dream this morning, i was driving in the car with my mother and she drove off the edge of the road and off a cliff. For a second or two, we hung in midair like smoke before disappearing down the valley. it hurt when we died.
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