April 2001

I'm writing this right now because I'm forcing myself to. See the article was due yesterday, and I didn't know what to write about. For the past month, I've had no clue what to write about. Weird that I should get a case of writer's block, but I guess we all get them from time to time. You'll have to excuse this if it doesn't seem like an article as much as some random babbling. It will probably be more of a wake up call to myself, so I understand if you stop reading now.

Lately I've been feeling like no one can hear me. I feel like I'm screaming, at the top of my lungs, but for some reason no one understands. I suppose if I was actually screaming, someone might listen, but I feel that's too much effort to exert. Especially because I feel so damn misunderstood, but I'm not sure what to say if anyone ever asked me to really talk to them. What can I say? I feel as though I'm lost. I feel as though I've made so many mistakes it's too late to turn around. I'm strangely lonely, even though I have people around me constantly-people who I know care about me.

I've been reading a lot lately, not too necessarily increase knowledge, but to hide from reality, I suppose. One of the books I happened to zip through was an astrology book, which I've always found interesting. Everything I've ever read about my sign, (I'm a Libra, by the way) pegs me dead on. Anyway, this book calls one of my worst traits my "inability to be alone." In the book, this is meant in a romantic sense, but I think its true in just about every sense. I'm terrified by myself-not of the dark, or thunderstorms, just of myself.

See, for the longest time, I got taught the hard way that knowing yourself and allowing yourself to have those little quirks got you into trouble. When I was younger, my "mentor" if you will, told me that one of the greatest mistakes of a human being is to mistake knowing themselves with deluding themselves. But again, isn't it frightening to think of actually knowing why you do the things you do? I've proven myself to be a fairly sadistic and masochistic person, but I have no idea why I'm so angry. I'm not sure I should know. It might just make things worse. I know what you're thinking-yeah, but if you figure it out, maybe you can get over it. Perhaps, but I have a tendency to dwell.

I miss the way my life was. It was so easy for so many years. Even when it was hard, it doesn't compare to this feeling of weightlessness, this feeling of misdirection. Years ago, my life was about getting messed up, and having a good time. Yes, this could have had disastrous effects, but it didn't. Why take such a chance? It was fun, I was naïve. My life took a drastic change that allowed my first true feelings of pain and regret came into play. That officially sucked, for lack of a better word. After that, into the next few years of my life, I developed strong relationships with various different people. All of them so much like me; it sometimes hurt just looking at them. We all have our differences-don't we always? And I guess, regardless of what anyone tells you, we had a good time. But it feels as if that portion of my life is coming to end too. So what do I do with myself? I have no idea. I have no fucking clue what to do with myself now. That scares me. It's become this tug of war with myself. And I'm losing.

Recently, I've had a few deaths in my life. It's been a bad time for the living, apparently. A teacher from my high school passed away around Christmas. I didn't particularly like her, nor did she like me, but I still feel bad. She was a good person; she meant the best for everybody. A friend of mine died right around Christmas too. He was 98 years old, and one of the most incredible people I'd ever met. He had survived the Holocaust, the death of two wives, and he was writing his memoirs. He was an idol for me, a picture of strength and justice. I'll miss him. And finally, one of my mother's best friends died at the end of February. (Note: As I write this, it's mid-March.) And her death deeply affected not only my family and her family, but also other families that we had been friends with for years. It was an incredibly sad loss, and more than I think my poor Mother should have been forced to deal with. It hasn't been all bad, though. I've gotten to spend some quality time with friends old and new, which has done wonders for my broken psyche. So, I'm not sure what to think.

In better news, my 'rents are going away for three weeks in April, which means that the house is all mine. Fabulousness! I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am. In any case, if anyone out there is looking for a good rental, try "The Boondock Saints". It's an incredible movie, starring Sean Patrick Flannery and William Dafoe. Or if you're bored and you're reading this, after you're done, try http://www.unamerican.com. It's a great website, and promotes social involvement.

In any case, it's 3:02 in the AM currently, and I'm ready for bed. If you got all the way through this babble, thanks for listening. I think I needed that.



A few side notes: FRANCIS-Everything you say is monumental to me. Always knew we were alike, huh? "She reminds me that's there's room to grow...Now that she's back in the atmosphere I'm afraid that she might think of me as plain old, same old, afraid to change old, sorry bout a man who was too afraid to fly so he never did land. But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of the day? And head back to the milky way? And tell me, did Venus blow your mind? Was it everything you wanted to find? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there? Can you imagine your love proud deep fried chicken your best friend always sticking up for you? Even when I know you're wrong. Can you imagine your first dance freeze dried romance flies out from conversation The best latte that you've ever had and me?"-Train, Drops of Jupiter

My favorite Cancer-The invitations with silver ink with a slight off white paper would probably look the nicest...if we could just decide on the date.

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