Entry 000012; 09.17.01

It has occured to me that the time to stop fucking around is upon me.

I keep getting these images that pop up in my head at the most random times. A few nights ago, i had this dream with the perfect ashia in it. for some reason, when she pops up in my mind, she's enveloped in a sand storm, the perfect child of true chaos.

I don't mean perfect in the traditional sense. i mean perfect in the ashia sense. the perfect person to be, the person that fits the wetware spirit of my specific being, the characteristics and the little details, and the moral being. My perfect has downfalls and blindspots like any other person. it's just that they accentuate the good parts, and they complement who i am, who i've always been.

so this perfect being. she keeps popping up in my head. and it's true, i am getting tired of swapping characteristics and moral systems and outlooks on life and religious values and quirks and ways of speaking and walking and etcetera etcetera..... etcetera.

But i am afraid. what happens if i blue print this ultimate being and stay as her for the rest of my life (as i have always planned to do) and then, halfway through, i realize i don't like it? Well then, i always answer myself. I can just change back. But the thing is, what happens if it's too late? What happens if by then, i'd have forgotten how to easily just shift into a completely different personality? What happens if i decide i'm not happy once i'm already married, and have children? (Assuming the perfect being would get married, and would have children. what then? am i stuck in this human prison forever, or until i die?

But the point is, i can see her. The final destination, the ultimate end all and be all. I've been spending a large portion of my life trying out all these different masks, finding out what i like and what i don't like, just so i can find her. And this sandstorm i've been seeing her in, so clearly, it's like she's born from it, the perfect child of chaos, out of nothing but blocking tiny particles, her hair blown and wild and her arms blocking her face, but standing. Standing bent over against nature and against wind, but enjoying it. Enjoying the entire thing, the scratches from the sand, the wind, the chaos. It's like she's thriving on something that should be a bother, or even dangerous.

I can't even really explain her. She's just this ...feeling...and it's such a powerful emotion that it invokes in me. It's like a passionate feeling, as passionate as lust and hate, but it's more of a want. I just want her and i want to be here and i want. It's not even the characteristics, it's not even the way she faces the world, thought that is a major part of it. It's just that feeling i get when i can see her in my head, hear her and feel her, and see from her point of view. It's the feeling of it, of her.

But i guess, if i can't even describe her in words, it's going to be pretty difficult to shift into her. So i'll just keep this up. And wait.

But i have to admit. The nice girl thing. It gets so old, so fast. I don't know if i'll be able to hold onto her for an entire year. And the thing is, like in my journal entry for last night, no matter how sweet and nice and wonderful and friendly I act, people are always going to choose the physically beautiful, the person who's natural nature it is to be like that, over the person who has to put real effort, real strength into pushing themselves into something decent.

So this being...whom i can't stop talking about...it's like infatuation. I just can't stop thinking about her. And if i stop writing about her, i just want to start right back up. I've been waiting all day so i can commit to paper all these thoughts and these feelings just her essence has been pulsing into me. It's like she's feeding me this insane energy sugar high from the inside. So as i said, she's got this chaotic feeling to her, she's like a tightly wound ball of energy, bursting, constantly. but inside, there is this coolness. there's this elegant, smoothed onyx coldness, this black elegance that just seeps through and kind of grabs your eyes and your heart. it's an increadibly emotional feeling. And the thing is, it's only to me. Like, she's a normal person, as desirable as anyone else is capable of being. But the thing is that she's got this special pull, for me and me only, cause she's the symbol of what i want to be, what i've been striving to be for years, she's the ultimate destination, the final goal. After that, well, what does one do once you've obtained your goal?

So this temporary perfection in the sandstorm, this powerful image...

So in other news;

I miss drooly a lot. He's just moved into Northeastern and he's been going non-stop karate action, and i never get to talk to him. But it's what i want, because i want us to have seperate lives, apart from each other, right? and he does talk to me, just for only a couple of lines every few hours. I'm glad he's having fun though. I just wish i could see him. But i can't, because i know if i see him too soon, i'll just end up going back out with him. And that's not healthy for anyone.

I think i'll add on a section for what i'm listening each day, or at the moment, like they do on livejournal. it seems like such a good way to say a lot of words that you just can't form in text. Today...hmm...i had this huge craving to listen to 'personal Jesus' by depeche mode. Icon has instilled in me so many obsessions for good music that i normally would never get my hands on. thank goodness for him. haha. the funny part is, he makes me about 2 mix tapes a year, and everytime i hear any of the ongs off of them, i think of him. the end result is that i think of him everytime i listen to music. it's a good thing, because he's a good friend. But also, i'm thinking of ways to make this a powerful tool! I shall ponder this a while.

In other news;

Dreams. Non-stop dreams. As soon as i fall asleep, it seems, i start dreaming, and i dream until i wake up. Whenever i get into a period of lots of writing (like now, i suppose) i get into this super-dream mode, and it's like my entire life is a constant dream. it's good, in a way, because it's like consant activity. it's like i'm never wasting a moment of my life. But in a way, it's bad.

It's all common sense, i guess. it's stuff i know in the back of my mind, and it shows up in dreams. but the thing is, whenever i dream something (the non-abstract dreams, that is...)it comes true. And you'd think it'd be useful, always knowing what is coming next. But it's not. And this, i'm sure, is the reason why people aren't given foresight. Because it's a fucker. Most every time, i can't change things. I sit there and watch horrible things happen, only to have to worry about them for some length of time after i wake up, and then they happen, and i have to re-live it again. It doesn't help me at all, and i wish it would go away. Also, life is a terrible bore if you know what is going to happen next. Maybe i'll lose my common sense and my ability to guess really well as i grow older. But it seems as i get older that it just gets more specific. And it gets more sybollic. I just wish...i dunno. i wish something.