i'm such a shit

when it comes to money. I try to forget that it exists all the time. i try to pretend like what i do with it doesn't matter. really, it doesn't that much- i do pretty much what i want to anyway.

but a whole day sans cell phone... i think i learned a lesson. things i couldn't do because i had no money:
- talk on the phone.
- call m back. :(
- buy coffee.

i guess that's not that bad. i need to buy my plane ticket to visit n too.

i can't stop thinking about sex. i'm fantasizing about ppl i shouldn't be. and should be. r and i have been fucking like champs.

i don't always know

what the hell i'm doing. i thought i wanted to date r again, and now i'm not so sure. he's rad, i miss him, but i *don't* miss the processing. perhaps i'm attempting to challenge myself. somehow. oh well. i now decide... to fucking stop needing to process with him on the stuff that he triggers with me. i know that i can do that, even if its
fucking hard. and it will be.

r and i have a pattern: we say things that trigger each other and whoever's getting triggered usually feels a need to address it with the other, rather than getting a fucking session. jeez already. so he said "addicted" a couple of times. so what. its annoying, because he doesn't really know what addiction is like. i wish he would find another word, but oh well. i don't need to process with him about it. goddamn.

on the other hand... my life is pretty damned good. i met a pretty girl last nite. she is rad. i called her to ask her out for Friday nite. we made out on the dance floor after a long time of dancing, touching, freaking, she's lovely.

yay for me.

and sometimes

things get a little too exciting. fuck.

tonite i wanted to buy a bike. i told a guy whose bike i was interested in that i couldn't see it until friday. he offered to bring it by. and take me to the cash machine. (perhaps that should have been a tip-off.) nonetheless, he brings it by. i test it out. i don't want it- the chain falls off while i'm riding. now, my bike may be old and tired but damned if the chain falls off. He puts the chain back on, i try it again- and the bike is just not working for me. so i tell him that.

he gets crazy, jerks the bike away from me, throws it back on top of his ice cream van (it's covered with good humor stickers) while cursing at me. i thank him sweetly, seeing as how i'm a good little co-counselor. he says something about paying him ten dollars. i ignore that, seeing as how i don't have ten dollars. and i'm not paying for him to bring me a shitty (stolen?) bike that i don't want.

So he sends me a threatening email (two, actually) demanding fifteen dollars. He says he's gonna get madder. hmm. i have a thing- i learned it from my family- if someone threatens to hit you, you don't wait for them to do it. you hit them first. if he sends me another email, i'll figure something out. i already called the cops. what the hell do police do, though? pretty much nothing, most of the time. i found his addy, and such. am i psycho now? i am tired of being threatened by psychotic fucks.

wierdos. definitely not boring, though.

things don't

really get easier, sometimes. sometimes they get much more difficult. sometimes they stay difficult.

i hate to say it, but i'm awfully bored. i don't want to go out to the same places i've been, i don't want to dance to the same music drinking the same drinks. i don't want to constantly read and write anymore. i don't want to get in bed at 9 because i have to wake up early, or worry about what to wear or take the same damn bus every fucking day, it feels sometimes like i've died already and here i am in hell, where everything is so fucking repetitive that it is driving me absolutely insane. It feels like i've done everything. i don't want to drink because its so fucking boring. smoking is boring. eating is boring. i'm goddamn bored.

or maybe i'm just numb. if you're open to it, isn't everything supposed to be illuminating? i must remember, boredom is a fucking coping mechanism, and if i really decided to be present every moment would be comepletely unique and amazing.

hm. right. i forget. processprocessprocess

i am still waking up at 4:30 am, every morning... ok, i actually slept through the night on saturday nite, i think because d was here, and i trust him pretty completely. last nite i was with r, and i woke up in the dark, smelling a familiar smell, laying in a familiar bed, but i didn't know where i was- it took me what seemed like a very long time to figure it out. for a little while i thought i was at j's. hmm. getting around, aren't i? nonetheless, i woke up to him later, as our alarm clocks sounded successively. he is really a pretty boy. i've missed him.

laying awake

has become a pattern. now it's four thirty instead of 6. i woke up yesterday and this morning at 4:30, almost on the dot, and lay in my bed listening to my head.

last nite i drank almost two whole bottles of wine. n watched me and attempted to have a conversation over dinner with me, and was very consoling, seeing as how i was beating myself up (again) and acting generally like an obsessive freak. "He hates me" "what's wrong with me" "i'm being punished for my youthful sins..." it goes on and on.

I got mixed up. I thought that love had to do with one person, again! I forgot that I am love, and that love is all around me. Duh. That realization woke me up.

yay for me.

the sun comes out

and damn do i wallow in these cynical days. i talked to my dad this morning- i'm not at school because i'm f-ing sick, i'm coughing and dizzy, generally out of it- and his response to my depression was "it seems to me that there are a lot of boys out there"- and i kinda stopped for a second. For all the people close to me, most of my dating is fleeting. and expectedly so. makes sense.

this morning

is covered over with fog and silence, besides t moving in the kitchen, cleaning, and cars passing in front of our house. j came over this morning, brought a bag of things i had left at his little apartment, i dreamt last nite about how i hated the decor there. hmm. seeing him was confusing; i felt far away and sad and a little bitter. i'm sure he could sense the last. i was doing my best, though...

what do you do when they bring over all your shit in a bag? smile? thank them? i did all that.

he's a nice boy. i'm glad we're not romantic anymore... and sad too. oh well. t says to stop digging myself a hole. that's no fun.

feeling broken

man, rejection is blowing my mind. i'm done capsizing, i'm freezing in the arctic waters. i woke up this morning at six, proceeded to lay awake forever, thinking about how i am not wanted by this man. for some reason that means something. with m, it made sense- i was astonishingly stuck in my stuff when we were making out. with r, we grew apart. this, i do not even know how it came about. it is very hard to not think that it happened because there is something wrong with me, that i am deficient in some way. its hard to remember right now that i didn't really want to be with him, either.

i am supposed to be studying.

my life is going really well, i have amazing opportunities streching ahead of me and man do i bust my ass for school and work, for writing and teaching, i am admired and respected, i have a fantastic community that is filled with people who love the crap outta me, and this man has such the ability to break my heart. that was a theme this morning, as i lay in my bed unhappily awake: my heart is broken and it doesn't seem like i can fix it very quickly. i think its mostly broken due to rejection, though; j wasn't very emotionally available.

really, the sex wasn't very good either. the last time we really went at it the only way he could maintain his erection was by continually choking me as he fucked me missionary style. i don't mind the choking, really at all, i am a more than willing sub, but if that's the only way you can stay hard.... that's kinda scary. fetish is ok, but damned if we had ever talked about that.

it seems as though i am trying to convince myself of something, huh? perhaps i just need to remember. I don't want my life to be about drinking and smoking and escaping and all that, and j did a lot of that. god. am i a catty bitch.

i hate valentines day. reed comes home from nicaragua that day. fuck all this shit. i am feeling, for the first time in a long time, completely turned off to dating. especially men. joel, like reed, left me in the dark with some empty version of himself, pretending like everything was ok. i am motherfucking tired of it. at least m was honest with me... i can't hate him for that. in fact, thanks, m. you're rad.

its february

this month has been suprisingly beautiful... hard, and beautiful.
so many things have happened. I had a crush, pursued it, started dating him, was very doubtful about the situation, was skittish, he seemed like he really wanted to "be with me," i decided to go for it, after a couple months we decided to "be together," and a week later he decides that he doesn't want to do it.
hmm.
needless to say, i'm reeling. like a capsizing boat. i commit, he runs away- my fears playing out perfectly. I hate it when that happens. Really hate it.
i made a mistake, though, i think... i told him that i didn't think i fell in love with him, and now that seems laughable. how could i have said that? i must have such a tenuous relationship with love, to need it to fit into a certain sort of box. i'm sorry for it now.