17 mar 02 sun « »
np/ sub.bionic

the only problem i might have is buying lunch while i'm at work; i know that unless i have an impressive splay made for myself from home, i probably will get something from a restaurant, namely jalisco's ($4) but occasionally eaton's ($4), simon's ($7), or canton house($4-8). i guess if i didn't eat out any day, and i'd save that money ($20/week), i could buy provisions and make things at home. anything that i buy from the restaurants i can make at home. especially the burritos.
yeah. i think i'm going to try to do that.

see, last night i meant to stay in and pretty much -- have no guests, do nothing but go through papers. i think an entire box of papers is missing -- the most important ones, the very first i ever wrote, when i was 14 or 15.
i wonder what inspired me to start writing. i mean why wasn't i writing all along? where were my thoughts going? actually i still have recollection of what i thought when i was.. probably since about 13. like, 6th or 7th grade.
was i thick, then? i think i was but some unconventional intelligence was there someplace.. only in plymouth it was never drawn out, ever, never encouraged. always wasted -- i had no need to think intelligent thoughts, introspective thoughts because the people around me didn't make it worthwhile. nobody understood, or cared.
anyway, it wasn't until i started writing, talking to myself, that i began to really explore my own potential. and then, it was never demonstrated until i moved to west bend and began hanging out with an -- i'd consider -- notably intelligent crowd, that i finally began to use my brain. that sounds ridiculous. but it's true. they were all intelligent, very smart, and clever people. -- and i can only imagine i'd right now be running into walls with buckteeth and a mullet if i were still in plymouth. :Þ
the thing is, after all of that writing, and re-reading, and contemplating my thoughts -- that's kept my entire functional life with me throughout the years. i can remember every instance detailed in my papers. i remember my feelings, they're still close to me in a way they could never be had i not written a word. and i like that. i like to go back and tsk to myself, thinking, well if you'd have known how that would turn out.. or, if you'd had this information to work with, or, see what happens when you do this -- it's learning from my past. it's constantly writing my own history books. i was the french revolution. i was the wall of china. i was the spanish inquisition. -- the past exists in writing, pictures, artifacts, and tales brought down from generation to generation. and this is mine, and this is how i learn from it. granted on a much smaller scale.
hence my troubles over the missing papers. but i haven't exhausted every possible hiding place, so hope is not yet lost.

last night, mike called me at work and i arguably did not want to talk to him. this, i maintain, i am finished with. well we were never together in the first place, were we. he mattered, but that never mattered, because -- because. it just didn't. but i think i'd rather be alone forever than be beaten up from the inside, for an outside joy.
but, because i can never say no to him, i did walk over to toucan. even as i thought, no nono, i don't want to see you again, my mouth said, i get done in twenty minutes; i'll stop over on my way home.
even as i thought, don't smile, i smiled. even as i thought, no! i wanted to wrap my arms around him and forgive and forget everything. that's too easy for me to do. it's too easy for me to forget the lessons i've been taught, the whole cause-and-effect situation. and if i couldn't just right now, press ctrl+o, and find everything i've ever thought about him in c:/documents and settings/administrator/my documents/month/2001/aug, or /july, or /sept -- then i think i'd do it all over again.
and that is not good, no, nor is it going to happen.

i went in back. he was working with money, whose real name is tim, and he's a sweet boy. he's fun, and he's their type but less so; he's there because his brother was once an integral part of the group and i think money inherited a position. he's super nice, considerate, and i'm sure he's got all of the good qualities i miss in michael. he just lost his virginity to a girl who's always drunk or stoned. often both. she's small, blonde, and quite pretty if not for those doped up eyes. she's one of christine's friends, and that's how they met,
WHY is it snowing again. WHY! i did not order this.
in any case, michael around his friends is disrespectful towards/about others and himself especially. and that i cannot handle, and that he will not change.
so i'm dropping out, i've closed the book, i stamped out his case for 2 1/2 miles.
i hung around for a while, talking with the boys, and money made me a sammich and boy 3 made me a grasshopper/hot fudge shake, at my request. a very small one, in a sundae cup. i didn't like it, it tasted like toothpaste (that's what michael said too) (SO WHAT! that's not phenomenal. that's no revelation, it's not uncanny and meaningful! you're allowed, yes even expected, to agree with people sometimes!) (christ!) but i left a bit later. they got into a water fight and michael in the back room had his shirt off and was trying to work the dryer, and i surveyed the situation and only wanted out and away. so i said, i'm going now, my back to protests and enquiries, and the door made the little ring-ring as i left.
snow! stop it NOW! you're making me terrified because the sky is so ugly and the light coming in through the window looks false.

but what does it matter? i went home, walked, and it was colder than the night before, no hat, and ben and nate were here when i got in. ben was teasing pico with my scarf only that little shit's got claws so (pico, not ben) he put a hole in it.
and kurt came by, he said he'd gone looking for me all over, at jalisco's and webb's and exclusive.
we bought a jug of wine between the all of us and i phoned vince from his phone, who called me back. vince and i talked for a long time. over an hour. kurt and ben and nate, melanie came home -- they all sat in the livingroom and talked, while i went through another box of things. this one wielded a much higher percentage of 'keep' things, so i didn't do much apart from scatter them throughout my room.
it really is a disaster, now. atleast i'm getting around to laundry finally.

12:09pm