My life has taken on a new level of surreality.

Honestly, I have no idea what's going on.

On Lonliness and Growing Up

I don't think you truly realize how alone you are until you're 18, 19, maybe even 20. It takes coming home to a dorm room (or an apartment) and realizing you have no one to call, no one to talk to about your day or to comfort you. You are left alone completely with yourself - no distractions. That's when you put on the music really loud (screw your sleeping neighbors) or watch TV or DVDs (or if you're really brave you could try reading).

And you long for a connection. You long for companionship that doesn't seem to exist, or is fleeting, or is unstable. All your relationships are somehow new, even with old friends. They stand unsteadily - legs wobbling with inexperience. We're all noobz to put it in internet terms.

At this time it's best not to withdraw as much as you ache to just curl up into a little ball and give up. Make those relationships stand confidently. Push past the awkwardness, push past the insecurities. I don't know how I'm advising anything because I'm still experiencing it all myself.

I just know that being alone is hard. So don't push away the few people who are trying to be your friends.

Today as I was walking along 10th street past this church the little kids were out playing and there was this one little boy - waifish, pale, and thin - who stared at me in the most honest way. I waved and he didn't even seem to notice me. He was perfect.

I miss Jon. I miss Jon. I miss Jon. There I said it. When some one takes over your thoughts for almost three years it's hard to get them out of there. It's hard, man.

This year has been hard. Things aren't going to be easy anymore. You can't rely on your mommy to make it all better or even to be able to try any longer. You can't rely on anyone. You can barely even rely on yourself. Over this year I have questioned every aspect of myself. I sit in bed at times just analyzing every facet of my personality and all my actions. I ponder my adolescence and try to trace through time how everything got this way.

And you know what I've found is really that it's all pretty random. Life is chaos. A chaos we are always trying to categorize and control. I want to be out of control. I want someone to tell me the way and for me to "see the light." It happened a bit today. I was sitting in a Brooklyn loft with guys (thank the Lord I was with actual boys for once), drinking a beer and listening to all the conversations when the guy next to me says something. "What?" I ask. And he answers, "If you drop out of NYU, you should go to Portland." It felt so right. Perhaps I'll go to school there so that people can't say I'm ruining my life but I can't stay here in NYC. One girl I'd been friends with at the beginning of the year says she thinks that I'm the kind that will travel, be in a lot of places. It may be true and if I'm miserable here I might as well leave. Start over. Beginnings are the best. Another one of the boys told me that transferring was one of the best things that ever happened to him.

I have to live for myself. I'm not here for myself anymore. I'm here to hold up an image, to make people proud or to prove them wrong. But fuck everyone. Right?

Also, this is my dream bike. I see it in various places on 10th street.

I want to...

1. Live in Portland.

2. Rent an apartment.

3. Have a puppy.

4. Not be in college.

5. Work as a waitress.

6. Own a little motorcycle.

7. Learn to play the drums.

8. Start/join a band.

9. Buy a four-track recorder.

10. Have a nice VHS and CD collection.

Is this too much to ask for?

"Do you find this happens all the time?"

I'm in one of those moods where every song seems to be speaking to me and I want to skip class and forget my homework and listen to music alllllll day and alllll night. And draw and paint and read and write and watch movies and learn the things that I want to learn. I don't want to go to class and sit silently and let the hate build up inside me.


Won't you please let me go
These words lie inside they hurt me so
And I'm not the kind that likes to tell you
Just what I want to do
I'm not the kind that needs to tell you
Just what you want me to

I saw you this morning
I thought that you might like to know
I received your message in full a few days ago
I understood every word that it said
And now that I've actually heard it
You're going to regret

And I'm not the kind that likes to tell you
Just what you want me to
You're not the kind that needs to tell me
About the birds and the bees

Do you find this happens all the time
Crucial point one day becomes a crime
And I'm not the kind that likes to tell you
Just what I want to do
I'm not the kind that needs to tell you

I've lost you (x5)
I've lost you (x5)

going crazy is when

you call someone over twenty times. you think after the fourth or fifth time you'd give up. but then something else takes over and you just keep calling hoping you'll eat away at their resistance and that they'll eventually pick up at least just to tell you to stop fucking calling them. and then when that doesn't work you send them all kinds of messages trying to get some reaction.

then when none of that works you watch TV instead of just staring at the ceiling or out the window in between desperate attempts to contact the person. but it's just a cheap distraction. your muscles are weak, your eyes hurt from crying. you think no one understands you. you remember when your cousin said no one understood him, five years ago in the graveyard. you think of him now - fat, pathetic, alone. you cry some more. you send some more text messages. you turn off you phone for awhile but even that only works for a half hour or so. it's like an addiction. you come to like the sound of the answering machine and the feeling of imminent rejection as the phone rings. you no longer have any hope for an answer.

maybe you finally eat something at five o clock. but instead of it making you feel nourished you just feel sick and your stomach turns into knots. there might be a knock at the door but you don't get up to look, you just keep watching TV. you think you'll just hole yourself up in your room forever but secretly you want someone to come and keep you company. but who would want to sit in the presence of such misery? who would want to look at something so pathetic? so weak? so disgusting? certainly not anyone sane.

this is when you give up. you look at the dishes in the sink (most of them not even yours), the overflowing trash, the undone laundry, your homework, all your roommate's shit strewn on the floor, and you just give up.

you just give up and watch TV and ignore your stomach ache and hope the one person you want to talk to will call you back. and that's really the most crazy part. you still hope that they call. because if you don't hold on to that, what do you have really?

i resign

before this turns into me bitching about how much i hate it here and how much i hate humanity. because that's really all i have to say these days. i'm pretty boring.

"i used to care but things have changed "

i look at this blog everyday trying to think of something to write and i always just draw a blank. i have really stopped caring about everything including writing. i no longer even feel guilty for not writing or drawing  or reading. i just want to watch movies all the time and i'm perfectly okay with that. i also no longer feel bad about doing drugs or not making an effort to hang out with people. i just don't care. 

i want to escape. i don't want to go back to college. i want to get on a bus and "disa-fucking-ppear." but i don't even know where i would go.

i've always been a dreamer. when i'm bored i always just make up stories in my mind and most of the time they're about my own life. but now when i try i just get frustrated. i've lost any optimism i once had and can no longer even dream of a "happily ever after." i don't even know what that ending would look like.

i'm too apathetic at this point to even be sad and that's the part that's really annoying. i wish i could feel that debilitating sadness instead of just feeling absolutely nothing.