I keep thinking I'll go out and do something exciting over this break, but I haven't yet. I'm definitely going out tonight, though. I'm going to try to take Anthony, an old friend of mine out, but if that doesn't work I'm just going to go out by myself and write. Maybe I'll see if Raymond wants to go clubbing.
I put up the french Coldplay poster Hannah got me for Christmas, but now it's covering my "Thank You Lord" poster (yes, point and laugh at the dorky Christian, I don't care). I was going to take down the "Thank You Lord" poster and put it somewhere else, but I'd taped it to my wall about 8 or 9 years ago and when I started to peel up the scotch tape the paint kind of.... came with it. Although if the Coldplay poster is there you would see it anyway....
Emotions are wierd. I've been experiencing lots of ups and downs recently. First I'll be wracked with guilt over being a rich American, then I'll be ecstatically happy out of gratitude, then I'll be melancholy over you-know-who. I don't know what I am now. Lazy I guess.
I re-read my diary yesterday, or bits of it anyway. The firist page of it was written on August 1, 2003 and talks about how entirely content I am with my life and how happy I am to be 18, employed, independently minded, and to have a best friend. It was mostly about how happy he made me, I guess. And how he was the guy I had imagined having as a friend at 18 when I was 12 or so. Basically it all felt like a dream come true. Skip ahead a few months and I wrote how "he wasn't the person I thought he was" and "he's turned into the opposite of what he once was". It doesn't get any less sad, no matter how many times I re-live it. I feel like there's a cold well in my heart that brims with icy pain, and it rises towards the top then falls back down in a rhythm. I'm afraid sometimes that the water could rise too high, and spill over the tops of the stones, and drown me in its consuming darkness again. Today I wanted to go to the footbridge overpass and watch the cars speed through the night, just like we used to do. I haven't been there since it happened.
So there's your daily peek into my soul. Make something useful of it.
I put up the french Coldplay poster Hannah got me for Christmas, but now it's covering my "Thank You Lord" poster (yes, point and laugh at the dorky Christian, I don't care). I was going to take down the "Thank You Lord" poster and put it somewhere else, but I'd taped it to my wall about 8 or 9 years ago and when I started to peel up the scotch tape the paint kind of.... came with it. Although if the Coldplay poster is there you would see it anyway....
Emotions are wierd. I've been experiencing lots of ups and downs recently. First I'll be wracked with guilt over being a rich American, then I'll be ecstatically happy out of gratitude, then I'll be melancholy over you-know-who. I don't know what I am now. Lazy I guess.
I re-read my diary yesterday, or bits of it anyway. The firist page of it was written on August 1, 2003 and talks about how entirely content I am with my life and how happy I am to be 18, employed, independently minded, and to have a best friend. It was mostly about how happy he made me, I guess. And how he was the guy I had imagined having as a friend at 18 when I was 12 or so. Basically it all felt like a dream come true. Skip ahead a few months and I wrote how "he wasn't the person I thought he was" and "he's turned into the opposite of what he once was". It doesn't get any less sad, no matter how many times I re-live it. I feel like there's a cold well in my heart that brims with icy pain, and it rises towards the top then falls back down in a rhythm. I'm afraid sometimes that the water could rise too high, and spill over the tops of the stones, and drown me in its consuming darkness again. Today I wanted to go to the footbridge overpass and watch the cars speed through the night, just like we used to do. I haven't been there since it happened.
So there's your daily peek into my soul. Make something useful of it.
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