i'm a junkyard full of false starts
and i don't need your permission
to bury my love
under this bare lightbulb
I'm cleaning my room. I did three loads of laundry, I'm debating changing my sheets at the moment, and I put all my books away and took out my recyclables. And I haven't eaten breakfast. And this isn't really about boys at all. It is. I nearly went crazy this week. I look back and think about Jeff and realize - who the Hell was I? So I took out my little book for letters that I never plan on sending and I wrote this:
Dear Jeff:
I haven't been myself these past few days. I'm sorry if that was offensive to you. I realize I was a little obnoxious at times, and that I said things I probably shouldn't have. But really, it's my reaction to you. I can't explain why, it just happened. It was probably a combination of things, but until the combination of things that aren't you go away, you're the easiest thing to cut out.
Sorry it has to be this way.Lily
There's a reason why I'm not sending this. I wrote it for myself. And I write them in a book so in a stupid moment I won't send them. I wrote a letter to David, too, like so many others I've written, about how we shouldn't even be thinking about each other anymore, much less talking or visiting.
I guess there's not much else to be done about it. I just have to forget about it and keep cleaning my room. I even cleaned out my drawers so my clothes fit. Imagine.
I've been looking at a lot of other online journals and I realize that if I had started this two years ago, way back in the days of philosophy class, my journal might be peppered with references to Descartes and Nietzsche. That's not me anymore, though I did retain my basic understanding of most of it. Now, I'm just reading so much Marshall McLuhan that I think I'm going to puke. Actually, I like it, but I can still think I'm going to puke if I have to read anymore.
I read Slaughterhouse-Five yesterday. It's sort of weird that the more reading I have sitting around waiting for me, the more I read things unrelated to my schooling. Like Harry Potter. And I'm debating borrowing High Fidelity from Mutt. But not going to his room to get it since I don't want to seem like I'm going just to see Jeff.
The fact that I mentioned that is a problem to me. I need to get over it. It's not like there's much to get over. He hugged me and touched my leg. And supposedly he's no good anyway, if public opinion is to be believed. Nic is angry with me too. Oh well. Nic is the one who had pointed out I wasn't quite myself and sent me off into a spiralling pit of self-loathing. I'm back to a somewhat contented state again. Though I'm still wondering why I can't attract a decent guy. And when I do I act stupid and obnoxious and send them running.
Hmmm....
so you got in a kind of trouble that nobody knows
it's coming up roses everywhere you go red roses
© ldf 2001