Xhiddenxtearzx (6:43:39 PM): i love him jon.

SBI MEZ M86 (6:46:20 PM): then I'm happy for you. really happy. because you deserve to be happy. heh, life works out, occassionally

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:47:03 PM): =].

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:48:10 PM): if someone would've told me at the beginning of the school year that i'd feel this way about them i would've called them an idiot.

SBI MEZ M86 (6:48:46 PM): heh. nice

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:49:03 PM): i'm not kidding.

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:49:46 PM): and i can honestly say i've only ever felt like this once before.

SBI MEZ M86 (6:50:42 PM): really? then this seems to be genuine

SBI MEZ M86 (6:50:53 PM): not that I doubted it before

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:51:11 PM): whats genuine mean?

SBI MEZ M86 (6:52:12 PM): like, authentic. real.

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:52:31 PM): oh ok got it.

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:53:02 PM): wanna know something.

SBI MEZ M86 (6:53:21 PM): sure

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:55:48 PM): the only other person i've felt this for is you.

SBI MEZ M86 (6:58:44 PM): really? why? not like I don't believe you. you know. just curious. of all people

Xhiddenxtearzx (6:59:48 PM): honestly i dont know why...its just like i have this connection with the 2 of you that i've never had with a guy before...

Xhiddenxtearzx (7:00:41 PM): its weird i mean i just feel this connection with you and i feel it with anthony...i dont know exactly what it is..

SBI MEZ M86 (7:04:28 PM): yeah. I know what you mean. well, I told you you're the only person I'm able to say that about, before, so. heh. I'm glad we were able to keep this friendship, even after everything. 'cause you're a closer friend to me than most. and we have been through a lot that has connected us, as you said

Xhiddenxtearzx (7:05:33 PM): its just i feel as this is like a lifelong friendship no matter what happens...and that you'll always be there.

SBI MEZ M86 (7:06:11 PM): yeah. I think it is

Xhiddenxtearzx (7:06:22 PM): =] good.

Xhiddenxtearzx (7:09:02 PM): i'm always so happy when i get to talk to you =].

SBI MEZ M86 (7:13:28 PM): heh, same. you always are able to bring up my mood. and you're so easy to talk to
Xhiddenxtearzx (7:13:52 PM):=].

Sometime before Senior year started for high school, I decided I was going to make the most of my life as I could that year. I mean, it was my Senior year. I'm sure you know the expectations of such a year - your best of high school, yada yada, etc.

So, that's how I headed into it. I enjoyed every second of band camp as much as I could, from the marching to the yelling to the hanging with friends to the music. I asked out Laura for the second time. I really got to know and get closer to more people than I had before and really just truly appreciated how many amazing friends I really have (something which was driven so much more home when I went to college). I made the most of Prom.

Granted, I didn't go bungee jumping or anything. But I threw myself into everything I wanted to do, soaked up and enjoyed every part of any event that's been built up to be amazing or that I've come to expect to be amazing or fantastic. No regrets, no feeling sorry about things I didn't do. No worrying about the consequences or whatever. Granted, I didn't totally do all this (could you imagine me not regretting or beating myself up over the past entirely) but certainly did so to the best of my ability.

And that was the point.

As my life has gone through (major) changes and I've had to look at life differently, create more permanent certain outlooks on life - that hasn't changed all too much.

Now, as above might show, I don't mean traveling around the world when I have no way to afford it. It doesn't mean dropping my job to go do something else.

It means practical things which, given all the extra crap floating around in our lives and clogging up our energy and desire to do things, won't be dragged down and not fully enjoyed or just plain done when you don't have to not do it.

So, for example, taking a trip down to Ohio? Parents would never let me do it. I've never driven that far (or for that long) before. I would need to pay for the gas, too. I could get caught. Not to mention what if something goes wrong? My old self might've looked at these things (let's assume that my old self can drive as good as me now, however, and has all similar benefits of this age) and said, "Too much to plan. Too much that might go wrong." My new attitude's immediate response was - Let's - do - it.

 

See, I have this friend that I've known for roughly 4 to 5 years now. Her name's Jessica though almost everyone calls her Jessi and I call her jess.

I met jess back from an old ex of mine, Rachel. Because I am continually the epitome of cool, I was doing the really cool thing that everyone did back then (don't deny it) and had a long distance relationship online. See, Rachel lived in Ohio (which is not where I live; just, you know, so we're totally clear).

Funnily enough, Rachel and I didn't really go anywhere. As I recall, I dated her 3 days or so before I had to end it. Ironically, in that time, she happened to introduce me to jess. For whatever reason (I hardly ever bother to act first and almost always react to other people so it surprises me when I bother to pursue talking to others, especially for something as someone I met in a chatroom on AIM with my ex), jess and I developed a friendship after that first encounter.

Further more ironic, we became extremely close.

I'd have to look through old files and such to really understand how that progressed, but we talked more and more. Also just because of how jess is, I often knew exactly what was going on over there. Over time I got to know rather well even her cousins and what became a mutual friend of ours, Dillan.

I suppose that's what really helped the friendship, that I'd often get exact updates as to what was going on in terms of what people were doing, what was going on, etc. Maybe I've used AIM for so long (or, more likely, maybe I talk with so many people I see on day-to-day basises now) that I don't get such detail from people.

So, I talked to jess almost daily. Whenever she had a problem, something to complain about, or a problem that needed to be solved, I was there. We became incredibly close. So, what can I say? I fell for her. Not that I exactly realized it. But my relationship with jess, and the long and complicated history that goes with that, is a story that's really for another time. The thing to take away here is that we wound up dating; and, as the AIM conversation above might indicate, we both fell in love with each other. And that's not been something I've said lightly for 2 or 3 years now, nor something I'd say I fall easily into.

Well, to be truly cursory, we broke up. That time was a long (it's scary how far away these days seem more and more) time ago. We've talked less and less.

Not to say we're not still close. But we do talk significantly less. I'm not involved in jess's daily life, though I keep up with the major stuff (she graduated at the top of her class, got to deliver a speech to the school because of it, etc.). And, well, jess was always more of the talker while I just listened.

And, despite all of this stuff we'd been through (and we've actually been through a lot, for people living in two opposite states - she nearly died several times and I had to find her help, I've talked her through situations when she was worried about hyperventilation, and other (less threatening) stuff) - we'd still never met in person.

I mean, that was something I'm sure both of us figured would happen someday. But I couldn't possibly convince my parents to go down to Ohio, of all places, and I have no car. And I couldn't expect that she'd be able to do it, seeing as she's 2 or 3 years younger than me (depending on the time in the year).

Well, despite my patience (which my dad continually reminds me of - though, it's a bad example because, compared to him, it's very easy to be more patient), I can be quite impatient at times.

I wanted to see jess, in person, and I didn't feel like waiting anymore. Like I said, my old self would probably have said, "Woah, hold up now. I have at least 5 possible problems already. Can we think about (and only think about) this idea?" Me now said, "Can you come up with a rough, feasible plan? Life's for living, let's do it!"

Her birthday is June 10th. As a (late) birthday present, I decided to leave Saturday, the 12th, to go see her.

So, telling my parents I was going to see a friend at around 8:30-9 in the morning, I took off to go pick up my friend Mallika. And, together, we began our drive to Ohio.

That was loads of fun. I wish I had some of the pictures we had taken to post, but I'm afraid I don't. But other than that and the many (many) things we discussed (some serious, some funny) along with the music we played on the way there, it was mostly just driving (and more driving). I hope you'll understand if I'd rather not recall specifics of conversation, and such; just trust it was good fun?

Probably a statement of how close jess and I are, at first there didn't even seem to be anything weird about finally seeing her. She wasn't going to throw anything (in terms of behavior or what she'd say) at me that I wouldn't expect.

But, as we neared, I started going over all doubts and such (my mind likes to exercise all possible arguments; this isn't always helpful because it sometimes causes me to doubt otherwise sound decisions).

I mean, was I going there just because it was big and something to do, a cap to our never meeting thing? Or did I actually want to really see her? I mean, shouldn't I be more...I dunno, feel weird, than this? What would she say? I mean, we don't even talk as much as we used to. What if this ends up not being a big deal, in any way? What if it's So what? Oh, we met, big whoop. What if she isn't like I've known her, even? What if she's different in real life?

In the end, though, these thoughts were put to rest. In the end, it was still jess, the same old girl I've know for years, the same girl I've listened to so many problem upon problem, the same girl I fell in love with years ago. You could play her voice to me years later and I'll still recognize it.

And she was surprised, intensely, like I had wanted. And I cannot deny, there was something almost unreal about hugging her for the very first time. Ironically enough, as if I'd done it a million times and yet it actually was for the first time ever.

As we were waiting outside of the building where she had been having her graduation party so that we could follow her back to her house, Mallika asked me (funnily enough, for the first time since I had asked if she wanted to accompany driving with me) why I had bothered to make this 6 hour long trip to Ohio and back, at risk of being caught for going. I had figured someone would ask. And - I have a terribly unbreakable habit of playing out scenarios of daily life in my head - I had imagined how this question might go. Would it be brief? Would I end up telling the whole story, emotions and all included?

It ended up being very brief, just the outline of the story, but (in answering) I wound up really articulating why I had bothered to make such a trip. As I told Mallika how I had dated jess and mentioned how we had been through so much together - well, she's such a huge part of my life, how could I not make this trip? I'm terrible of keeping up with people (and my onslaughts of depression and unstable moods makes this so for even those I'm direly close to, no matter how close) but even years from now, we'll still be talking. I have a very strong feeling that we'll be seeing each other much more often once we get more independence.

jess is...well, jess is a lot of things, though she'll fool you and make you think she's not. And, like a lot of the really important women in my life, I'm still trying to make sense of what exactly she's done to me, how she's impacted my life.

So, I had to see her. Even if I don't do anything else this summer (ha, as if I'll allow that to happen...), I can definitely say it wasn't wasted.

 

My brother once said that things got better around at home when I left for college; there was less arguing. Which wouldn't surprise me. I'm driven by logic. My mother rarely uses logic. There was tension; there was clashing.

So, as we were sitting at this party today, I found myself once again trying to push how far they were willing to actually think.

I honestly don't remember how it started. But it wound up in me mentioning my major peeve: that the government actually treats suicide as a criminal offense. As I believe I said, "It's preposterous that I do not have control over the most – the most – personal thing in my possession; no one should have the right to say whether or not I wish to terminate my own life." My parents, of course, chose to differ.

Of course, they both pointed out that a person who commits suicide isn't thinking about those around them, that they know, who will miss them (not always the case, but I got what they were getting at).

Of course, that's not quite how they put it. I think it was, "It's a completely selfish act."

So, I retorted instead of bothering to say it in a way that may logically convince them, "If those that know him or her can't bother to take a moment to consider what would drive him or her to take his or her own life, then it's them who are the selfish ones for putting their own feelings ahead of the suffering of him or her." Of course, I think this is a logical enough argument, but it doesn't suit in an emotional discussion.

To which the other often-made argument was made – there's always another answer. You know, Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

They told me the same thing in Health class Sophomore year of high school. For my response paper I wrote that such a mentality was insulting in its simplicity and solved nothing. Never a permanent problem? Talk about arrogance.

In any case, their argument was that life is too precious. It's too great to just give up and that "those people" are clearly not in the right state of mind and just need to be held over until they get it. So often I want to actually believe that.

 

 

So, I was kinda stuck. Haven gotten out my retort, how do I honestly make them understand this situation? See, I know I'm kind of being an asshole as I write this right now. Sarcastic and dismissive, I'll be surprised if you've tolerated my writing thus far.

But I don't often claim to be right in things. I'll usually claim I might know better, but I almost always admit I could be wrong. My ideas now aren't what they were 2 years ago. I change, I get proven wrong. I value humility and try to live up to such an ideal.

But when I think I'm right? I don't bother with being nice about it. Because my entire life is motivated by the treatment of others. And if you disrespect that – well, I don't respect you. And, of course, I tend to write about when I'm certain I'm right on xanga more than those moments where I think I'm wrong.

See, I've been through too many suicide talks to particularly want to hear someone else lecture me on the subject. I've talked close friends up and down the depression situation and, well, there's something kind of sobering about being told that they've decided to swallow the pills anyway, despite everything you've tried saying for the past two hours. And there's something about not being able to do anything about it.

But what's even more sobering is trying to come up with words to even mount an argument when she's just looking at the bruises up and down her arms.

Or that dead feeling inside that just eats at you. See – it almost feels ridiculous saying it – I've got it lucky. Suicidal periodically throughout the year, anxiety that I can barely publicly control some days becoming more and more frequent, an inability to ever get enough sleep, and a diet that's been so badly thrown off that I don't want to eat half the time and the other half finds me hungry at the most inappropriate of times, and I've got it lucky.

Because I am operational almost all the time. I still know what it's like to be happy a majority of the day and I actually haven't attempted suicide in 4 years or so, plus I've never actually done any serious attempt to boot.

 

 

But I honestly don't think all of that really gets at how it feels to realize that you aren't really sure how to mount an argument for living for some people.

So I found myself going back to something I had heard at a talk at college last year or so. The exact facts might be off but the general idea is what to take away.

In 1950, upper class whites felt that there was equality amongst the races and that anyone could successfully move up or down economically if they wanted to.

In 1950.

Now, these probably weren't all KKK members. They were probably the average Joe or Jane, who didn't see the problems others were facing in their communities (even if those people, blacks, weren't in their communities to begin with) and, so, assumed, those problems must not exist. Same way people view equality today. It's the way privilege works.

And it's how this works.

Of course life is precious to you. And, for you Mom, there probably is another answer.

But I can honestly say that I don't fear death these days anymore. I'm not bothered if I died tonight. Slightly saddened, maybe, but not bothered. It's, really, just another path to take.

Because, while I'm not counting on committing suicide any day soon and would choose to live than otherwise, I'm not fully convinced that living is the smarter, more sane, or less painful choice.

At the end of the day, my reasoning is that if the end will be waiting for me no matter what and it'll be the same no matter what, why not make the most of this? It's waiting for me. I'll get there. I've only got this life for so long.

And that's good reasoning. But that doesn't make living better. It hinges on me not knowing which will be better in the end.

And so I don't fear death.

And, yes, it'll be terrible that my friends and family should have to suffer my going. For those who've seen far too many suicides than I'd like them to (not to mention those I've talked out of suicide numerous times...), it'd be awful.

And maybe it helps that I think we're going to the same place in the end, so I'm not really bothered (though I am saddened) if either of us go early.

Maybe it's my pesky emotional distance (whether I want it or not) cropping up again, though I doubt it.

 

Or maybe it's the simple fact that happiness...it's so brief for me. It's great and all. And, as people say, isn't worth it? But I find myself, as the days go on, taking after those who live in the moment. Enjoy it. Find it precious. Look forward to it.

But it's just a moment.

See, happiness is fleeting for me. It doesn't last. It can't. My "normal" is set on depressed. Happy moments are like shooting stars. Was it great? You betcha. Would you take it back? No way. Can you survive off of the thrill of seeing shooting stars?

No.

 

Do I think life should be given a shot?

YES.

I think it should be given every shot. Follow my logic I gave you above. I'd rather go through life and say at the end, "That SUCKED – but I made the most of it, no regrets."

But it is selfish and arrogant to assume that it's so easy for everyone as "It's just a temporary problem."

No.

I've seen pain I never want to look upon again – not from myself but other people suffering through it. And I wish, I so wish, I could just swoop in with the answers. But I don't have the answers.

So don't tell me that living is the better choice. Only that person knows that. And, regardless of who's right or personal opinions, they should always get to make that choice themselves.

To quote the Suicide FAQ, "The most basic difference in opinion between me and those who have mailed me telling me I'm a monster, seems to be that they think that death is an inherently Bad Thing, while I don't."

But that's neither here nor there. This isn't really about my own opinion or stance. Point is, it's their life and their own suffering.

You don't get to make that choice.

I think this is the most happy and just giddy I've ever looked in a photo.

(And you can still copy and paste pictures, Laura; check that you weren't using a different browser than usual when you tried)

**The tales contained herein are recalled in a most frivolous nature, taking delight to a point of frivolous self-consciousness (one might say). All events are true, though their details and perspective are confirmed at only the most subjective level, I might suppose.

In order to impose on the cavern walls of ancient time and memory these limited events of delectation, I take upon myself now the work of transcribing the events which Williams Secular Community engaged upon at Stone Hill so they will not leave my brain so shortly after the event occurred. During the course of the regular hours for college students, many laughs were had along with a bonding transcending the inner connections of the average student club or even that of common friendship so that many joyful, Godless times were had (as well as uncoördinated, multi-tempo, and off-key singing with no abandon to the night sky).

Having conceived of nature-involved events for the WSC (Williams Secular Community) in order to more appreciate nature and foster more community sometime last year, the WSC called out for recruitment to a camping trip upon Stone Hill. A fire, s'mores, and singing (regardless if anyone could find a guitar) was to take place. How could any refuse?

Taking up the call, Greg, April, Nick, Jonathan (myself), Margaret, Antal, and Kim decided to venture forth into this night in the wilderness (or the mostly treeless, pasture-like area just outside the wilderness; it's really exactly the same thing, when you think about it).

Meeting in Baxter Hall to gather forces, the group convened, decked with sleeping bags/pads, a pillow, tarps, and the joys of chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows. From there, they headed out on their journey.

Missing one of their members (he purported to be sick, a dubious claim that the group just could not accept), they descended upon the stony buildings of Greylock Quad to make plea to his better sources of reason. However, they found his room apparently vacant (or he was hiding and pretending to be gone) so the group graciously signed with their signatures to the sign on his door for a non-pressuring ultimatum that he must join the festivities (except for the apparent confusion of Kim, who wrote "Yeah, idk...").

It was then to Stone Hill!

The group made their way to their destination, engaging in the casual chitchat of a most prestigious nature (delighting in personal tales recounting the glory of surviving sleep deprivation and the successful victory in the foray of a written paper, current events on campus, opinions about certain art courses and the way that art majors and non-majors function in that, just how willing the drivers of the area were willing to obey the law that cars must stop for pedestrians that late at night, as well as returning to the ever familiar computer science (which actually occurred at an all-time low for the group, during that walk)).

As they reached the hill, the talking dwindled as they made their ascent (I imagine the suddenly very audible and measured breathing might be some indication to a reason why, but I wouldn't personally begin to know).

And then, at least, they had reached it! Quite excited, the group staked out the place to make a fire and began searching for wood to burn. At this point, the continued references to personal sticks and wood only got light chuckles from portions of the group at sporadic times.

Having gathered their firewood, Nick took great care to assemble the sticks into the shape of a circular pyramid. Soon, a wonderful fire had been started and the marshmallows were broken out. Naturally, a discussion arose (it's the nature of the group, really) about how much to cook marshmallows. The range consisted from lightly browned to Kim who seemed to enjoy the clearly audible crunching noise that was made when a bite was made into the marshmallow.

As this treat of the gods (that most of the group doesn't believe in) was devoured, it was discovered that Symphony Hershey bars were also present, which a member of the group informed could only properly be described as "really gourmet shit". It was then decided that the group must one day approach the dining services in Paresky during a mealtime and let them know that the current menu options were not up to par and so could they up the ante and bring out their gourmet shit.

At this time, or somewhat a bit before, Kim informed the group that she must then take this moment to leave. Greatly saddened, the group bid her farewell.

Then after, the neighboring group decided to go streaking. This valiant attempt was rendered moot due to the fact that the night made seeing anything beyond the fire virtually impossible. One of the streakers, however, was kind enough to take this into consideration and decided to leap over the flame of the fire whilst being naked. As they rescinded back to their camp, Nick said goodbye to one of the people he recognized.

By this time (whether this was aided by the appearance of the streakers is up for question), the number of wood and stick references had increased with prolonged laughing, taking not of which woods were still or wet. Finally, perilously breaking the silence, Margaret jumped to the heart of the matter and uttered the word penis for the rest of the group.

Directly talking about the issue now liberated to onto the table, the group (nostalgic as ever) decided to partake in the penis game. Bringing joy and mirth (with a very brief wonder as to what the other two groups might be thinking of the members' past times), the fire had (sadly) begun to dwindle.

Thus began the continued task throughout the night to keep the fire burning despite its suicidal wishes.

Having had their fun of s'mores, the group decided it really needed to sing. However, there were no musical instruments of any kind, other than their beautiful and angelic voices. Well, acoustic guitars be damned, they were going to do it.

Accurately describing their generation, they kicked it off with "The Campfire Song Song" and then "The F. U. N. Song". This quickly became a need for singing the Pokémon theme song (the original, of course) in loud, impassioned, and monolithic voices, a feat they only closely replicated again with Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl".

This quickly descended into a slew of songs that were sung, not all of which were coherent. Necessary ones included "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey, "Piano Man" by Billy Joel, the chorus of "Living On a Prayer" by Bon Jovi, and "Teenage Wasteland" by The Who.

Just due to its fitting nature, "Losing My Religion" by R. E. M. was also played. A quick pole of the group quickly found that many there hadn't lost religion, seeing as they didn't have it originally to begin with. Mistakenly, I was included in that group to which I corrected, saying, "I had, for a time," to which Greg responded, "Well, we're working on that," (one of my favorite lines of the night, I must say).

Greg also officially made himself my hero for life by suggesting we sing Bruce Springsteen. Few others knew the words, I think, but I enjoyed the chance to confidently belt a song in a group for once.

Also, at some point the idea was brought up to gangster rap "The F. U. N. Song" – how or why is beyond me, though.

Having rejoiced greatly thus far in group singing at the expense of sleeping groups and woodland creatures, the group put on a song that inspired them to sway together as a group. This evolved into an idea for a group hug and April was involuntarily thrust into the middle of a giant group bear hug.

After tiring the vocal cords, the group resolved to just listen to the music, dancing together (best dance party on campus, you know) and rocking out. This inspired Margaret to spin, which the rest of the group promptly joined. Dizzy and feeling like kids again (because all the other previous activities just didn't quite solidly do that yet), they decided to spin in pairs. Once again with group ideas, they attempted to spin as a group, holding hands; this bad idea one just has to do anyway for the sake of experience provoked laughing and giggling exclamations of strain as the circle hung on to each other's hands to prevent falling apart.

Having fallen on top of each other, the next idea was born – lying on one another's stomachs in a circle. Having accomplished this feat, the group laid there on top of each other staring up at the stars while listening to The Beatles.

After an hour and a half of thoroughly breaking down physical boundaries amongst the group, they resolved that maybe sleep might be a somewhat wise decision (despite the opinion of the ever nocturnal Antal).

Taking to the sleeping bags, they decided to once again get in a circular formation and lie on one another's bellies. However, as exhaustion finally (at 4 or 5 something in the morning) came upon them, they realized it wouldn't work quite so well. So they gathered around the pillow that I had brought and communally shared it (the looking-into-eventually-starting-your-own-private-commune for the group will be started tomorrow).

As the morning came, they sighed contently with their experience as they prepared to finally descend Stone Hill.

And with that, I must leave you all – Comp. Sci. BBQ is calling me.

I'm actually on top of my homework this weekend. I've had to keep my nose to the grindstone since Friday (thereby disallowing me to give anything else attention, for the most part), but I'm on a proper schedule. I don't think I've done that since the semester started.

The reason I've been so down and aloof this whole past month (sorry Xanga!) was because I was just bombing my classes and had no idea how to do better. And I'm someone who needs control (I'm pretty sure I've talked about that in some past entry). I need a plan, I need to know what's going on - things don't go well otherwise (such as borderline panic attacks during midterm week).

Aaaannnnnndddddd, to make things even better, one of the girls who joined Williams Catholic at the beginning of the year is getter baptized tomorrow. As I remember it (with my shaky memory), her parents aren't the most religious or fell out of the faith, so she's pretty much rediscovering it for herself and coming back by her choice.

Now, she's having her baptism, confirmation, and the eucharist all tomorrow and all of the alter servers are going to be there to help plan and facilitate it.

Also, in celebration for this, we had a party today at 10:30 (only break I've taken from my homework, so that was an added bonus).

It was fantastic to just hang out with Williams Catholic again. I've missed two Masses due to my stress and work and I had to miss serving for one of them (and alter serving is one of those things I absolutely love doing). They're a great group, and it was great to congratulate our new "convert" (as we've jokingly refered to her as).

So, all of this is just great. It's gonna be a good weekend (haven't had one of those in a while...).

Random things about me:

Listening to heavy metal through ear phones will always put me to sleep, just about. I love metal, but, if I'm not moving, there's just something absolutely lulling about it.

There's something so incredibly comforting about the night (when I'm not plagued with depression or stress). I love the morning (which is why I've been actually bothering to try to wake up earlier this year), but there's something regally gorgeous about the night.

I think I've almost fully lost faith in most of humanity - but this time I'm alright with that.

I really, really like quotes, even after all this time. Which doesn't make sense because all sorts of mishaps happen when you take things out of context like that - background is always direly important. But I still use them almost compulsively.

I really like contradictions. That's why, for example, both The Exorcist and Show Me Love are my favorite movies. There are some parts of The Exorcist that are just bad. Some of the acting still cracks me up in how over the top it seems, the violence is so rediculous sometimes to the point of me not able to take it seriously, and some of the choice of music and placement of that music is pathetic in how beating-you-over-the-head it is. Show Me Love is meant to be more like a home movie than a professional move in its film-work  so it's often incredibly awkward. Some of the actions of the characters are just funny in how bizarre they are. Yet both have these awesome themes and metaphors through them. Plus The Exorcist just nails so many parts, in terms of acting and what the characters are saying. They both basically cover all the bases, from dry humor (in part because of how ridiculous they sometimes are - I love awkward humor) to drama to fantastic filmwork to metaphors. It's a conglomorate mess that shouldn't work - and yet it does.

I would know I found the right girl if she proposed to me instead of the other way around, I almost definitely want to adopt in the future, and I'm completely okay with being securely lower middle class. All of these things about me terrify my mother.

I occasionally feel pathetic and selfish when my depression disables me to do anything or I feel unmotivated to do stuff because I know others have it so much worse than I do.

On the flip side of that, my dad was talking to me about my major a couple days ago, and I was explaining why, while I love history, I could never do it as a major; see, part of this is that you have to search through a ton of books and do research before a paper for history while English only requires wrestling with one text in a completely thorough fashion, which allows for a deeper and more thorough look through the text and I'm better at that than what I would have to do for history. My father thinks this means that I chose English because it's easier; he says as much with utter disgust. Well, one, no. I just explained what it was for you guys. However - so what if it was? You see, my dad also finds it so irritating and incapable of judging his oldest son for the fact that I'm slower at getting things done and put things off. Ignoring that fact that he can't let so trivial a thing such as the means I get things done (it's not like they don't get done) not get in the way of how he views and treats me, let me put it this way - I go suicidal periodically throughout the year. He should be happy I'm still breathing to this day. You see, I have to monitor what I do, when I do it, and how I do it because something as simple as doing something when I really don't feel like dealing with work can mess up my entire emotional well being for the day. Yes - I take a while to do things. I have to take a while to do them. For my well-being. To be honest, I'm not apologizing to my parents, ever, for how I've lived my life. Every choice I've made were well-thought-out, logical choices which I had to make in the face of their oppressive (in, honestly, places that didn't even begin to affect them, so I don't understand why they felt the need to intrude upon my autonomy), immature, and selfish "parenting". I've done things I regret - how I raised myself will never be one of them.
(sorry for dumping that on you guys, but I've needed to say something about that incident for a while now)

I just dropped my laptop off my bed; thankfully, it's okay.

I still have some of the coolest friends in the world.

I honestly can't take what little I've heard of Like Water From Chocolate by Common Sense seriously. It keeps sounding like he's trying to combine street rap (so saying purposely inappropriate things and trying to be "real") and political rap (so talking about revolutions and caring about the black community, etc.). He sounds like a fool; I may have lost nearly all respect for him from this album alone (though I still need to listen to the album more fully to really be able to speak on it; "6th Sense" off the album is nearly flawless, though).

I really want to get another rodent - and soon. I miss constantly caring about something, anything/anyone.
Thanks for the picture, Rachael

 

Btw, if it so interests any of you: http://www.themixtapeexchange.co.nr/

So, I realized today I never confide in others (unless something's really, really, really bad and I just have completely no way of of even beginning to know how to deal with it); when I do, it's because someone's asking, and they want to know really more than actually because I need to or need the support. It kinda surprised me.

Not that it really bothers me; it's not really all that surprising, in actuality. Just caught me off guard.

I've had really random, strong hankerings to see Evanston the past few days. I wonder if I could get some friends to go down with me come Spring break (also, better news - I'm getting in a full week earlier than I was before. March 20th to April 4th).

My favorite lines from today:

[Charlie, who was keeping score of the basketball game, during half time]:
"So, apparently one of the women over there thought you were going to give Chelsea an orgasm from the back massage you were giving her, and they were really glad they could see her mouth. Also, they're surprised you guys weren't already making out by now. So, congrats Jon, you've apparently got yourself a girlfriend now."

[Me as Chelsea's trying to burrow into the side of my stomach]:
"Have you eaten recently?"
[Chelsea]:
"I had dinner."
[Me]:
"Did you have lunch?"
[Chelsea]:
"...I had an orange."
[Me]:
"What did you have for dinner?"
[Chelsea]:
"Whatever I had in my bag. It's at least a few hundred calories!"
[Me]:
"Chelsea...a rabbit only needs a few hundred calories...you are not a rabbit."

[Charlie]:
"Yeah, me and Chels have mastered voice carrying."
[Kylie]:
"Not if you count that woman today. She was literally glaring at you."
[Charlie]:
"Well, yeah, but she was right next to me. I've mastered voice carrying, not surrounding area awareness."
[Kylie]:
"You'd think that'd be the more important of the two."

[Me to my cousin while walking home from our failed attempt at enjoying the warm weather by finding a swingset (all the snow actually melted today...but it also started to pour as we were walking to the swingset)]:
"Gah, now the rain's soaked everything. I hate the texture of wet pants; I like my girls clingy, not my pants."