Perhaps the fact that I think I am going insane is proof enough that I'm not.

No, scratch that, I'm not going insane, so much as losing my sanity. The more I think about things, like the existence of god, the truth in love, the goodness in humanity, I feel myself losing control. Not just of my thoughts, but of myself. There have been days in the past, when I just disappear. Usually for a couple of hours. It usually happens about every 7 months or so. The rational, part of my brain leaves me to contend with the primal instincts that have been suppressed by years of falling into line. When I get like this, (always in the presence of friends), there are two ways in which they can respond to what must seem like complete insanity.

  1. Completely dismiss the events, and go on as if nothing is happening at all. This hardly works, and usually they are regretful of the incidents at later dates. I theorize that the reasoning for this is that they did not choose option two, and instead chose to continue repressing themselves, as society would have them do. From that point on, becoming envious of what seemed like, and was, an invigorating cathartic experience.
  2. Submit to the moment. I have this ability to pull people into my dementia, and when there are people fueling the fire, it burns ever brighter. We were driving people home, after one of our fun-filled days, and it just happened.

I managed to get shotgun in Mikes mini-van, and had in my possession a fake plastic gun. It was night, the street lights were glowing with their orange radiance and people were crowding the street, out drinking. Bone Machine by Tom Waits blasted on the stereo. My mind flashed to Dr. Gonzo in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and suddenly I was taken over. My better judgment taking the back-seat to my hysteria and dementia...

I imagined myself some sort of lizard, creeping through the jungle floor, on the watch for unsuspecting prey, ready to strike. Then: POW!, I start to scream and yell at passers by, not quite sure why I was doing any of this, but continuing to do so, only because it was what had to be done...

Now, my friends had their decision to make, and they feel right into my trap. They decided that this fake plastic gun was the source of all my powers, and felt that if they could get it away from me I would behave like a well-adjusted suburbanite. Their attempts to confiscate my weapon created an uproar, and a sense of endangerment, which I would naturally have to defend myself against. I would lay in waiting for them to make their move, as they did mine, and I would toy with them. Wave the gun in front of their faces, only increasing their suspicions that it was the gun causing this strange behavior.

As we drove along, I fell further and further into the most primal parts of my psyche. For minutes at a time, I would stare into the side mirror, convinced that if I turned my head away, I would be attacked, while trying to fend off the assault coming from the back seat. Until, I spent myself. We arrived back home, and I fell down onto the couch, and slept the sleep of an innocent child. Waking the next morning, rejuvenated, and feeling as if I had gained a greater understanding of the world in a whole. While for the next three weeks or so, I was not allowed near the gun.

Horselover Fat had an exegesis, and an encounter with god. All I have is everything2 Daylogs.

In the colosseum, in the colosseum, in the colosseum, tonight...

I am not happy and I am so TIRED of everyone telling me I should be. I am a mess but I am hiding it well. I can shut off, I can't shut off when I talk to anyone. I hadn't cried all day, until you turned me back on. I HATE it here. It does not get easier, I cannot feel this horribly ALONE and be happy.

So I'm happy for you, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful time, but do NOT guilt trip me for being sad, because I just am, and you made it worse, which is the absolute LAST thing I needed. You are not supposed to be the one to make it worse..

It would be pretty fucking easy for everyone, if I could just turn it all off, wouldn't it, but you of all people should know that I CAN'T DO THAT, I have never been able to.

Just before you messaged me I was thinking of you and was going to write to you, or about you, or something to do with you.. it was almost peaceful in my head for a few seconds. You were a part of that softness.. and now it's just all broken again.

Maybe, you are distracted by the world and you don't have my brain and you are not somewhere that kills your soul, and I guess that would make it hard to understand. You don't know what's going on, don't know that he's engaged again. You don't know how dad yelled and I fell apart and we hugged, don't know how it is here, because we haven't had the time to talk. I do not know what to do. I don't have anyone else to fall into, and I need that badly right now, so excuse me if I forget to tell you that I hope you have a nice time. If it slips my mind to ask you how beautiful and wonderful it is there.. I do want to know, just wait, and tell me when everything isn't dark and hurting.

Even if your shoulder is a million miles away, I still want to feel like I can have it.
For the past few weeks there's been a part of a verse from the venerable Nightswimming by REM as my AIM profile:

September's coming soon
I'm pining for the moon
And what if there were two,
Side by side in orbit,
Around the fairest sun?


And now its September 2nd. My profile has been changed, the beauty that was August and July and June is gone.

Get on board, babies, September isn't coming soon, it's here.

I shouldn't be freaking out like this. I shouldn't be saying "freaking out," what with my advanced vocabulary and all.

I guess its all a matter of September.

September means school. Back to school sales at Sears. Big crowds at the mall, scrambling for the tax free shopping week. Little girls in training bras wearing halter tops to the first day of fourth grade and highschool freshmen, such as myself, crowding into the local highschool. Home of the Cyclones, Lady Cyclones, and the largest group of binge drinkers under 16 you'll find in my part of suburbia.

For what will be, undoubtedly, an enriching and unique experience.
It's Sunday on Labor Day Weekend which means that the day really starts at 9am, however I slept an hour late anyway.

I have work to do today, as it seems I do everyday. There are no longer any days when no work comes my way.

Today I hope to assemble a group of 5 persons at Panera Bread from my AP US History class, and discuss whether or not Colonial American Culture was unique, that is to say, not european.

As I go outside to observe the world, I observe the rain drops in cascading from the parking garage roof, the large tears of runoff contrasting with the comparitively gentle mist of that which is direct from the sky.

Oh misery, oh despair, i'm turning british.

Speaking of turning british, did the colonies turn 'american'?

I have to read the Taking Sides book still because I am a horrible hypocrite who spends his time cavorting with evil and cruel databases. Who is Gary B. Nash, why is his opinion more important than anyone elses? How can one essay accurately and completely describe the 'yes' side to an argument?

I suppose the answer is that it cannot, but that is the situation because this is a matter for a book of essays, not a chapter.

As it could be with any issue regarding the many and varied questions of history.

I should shower. Wash away the dirt and filth. Cleaner is better, even if it's just because the pretty faces on the television set make me think so.

I have no time for crosswords, I have no time for filth, I cannot stop to think, for I have too much thinking to do this week.
It's one of those days where I wonder if it's even possible to be happy. And if I could personally be, I still couldn't because of all the unhappiness around me.

One of my housemates from the previous summer died in a car wreck Friday morning. She was 21. It can all be over so quickly...I'm in shock, and I don't know what to do with myself.

I just found out, but have been thinking about such things all weekend. About how people die, people change, and people leave. There is no consistency. My grandmother is going to die, probably this winter my mother says. My father died. I left her, my sister left her. I feel guilty about this, leaving her alone. I feel guilty when I disappoint anyone. Does everyone eventually end up alone? I know this is the way life is, but it just makes me want to be part of it even less. I don't want to die, I just want to not exist, then my actions can't hurt anybody and I can't be hurt by theirs.

I think, on the way to the university library, that I should quit my job. It seems wrong to be paid with state tax dollars to do work that doesn't benefit the public in any conceivable way. Plus, it's really boring, unsatisfying work. I spend half the time sitting on my ass. Most of my co-workers have personalities that clash with mine.

I need a job where I my only income comes from people paying me to do them a service. Upon reflection, I realize that this idea comes from the state of affairs in my house, where my roommate (complete pothead) buys all the sacks, and I compensate for the smaller amount of the ganja that I consume by performing tasks like rolling J's, and computing the amount of rent that each of us owes (based on how much the phone and electric bills were that month, since each of us is responsible for one of these).

Microeconomies that have illegal infrastructures (drug distribution, bootlegging, illegal weapons) breed efficient systems that everyone is happy with much more often than goods/services systems that the government considers legitimate. If I want to sell, say, CDs, then I have to pay for a wholesale retailer's license as well as overhead for the store (no selling on the street, or in a residential zone like my house), which means I have to make much more profit than I would just to pay my personal bills. So I need to get a broader customer base, so I have to pay to advertise my business (and I have to make even more money to pay for this!), and eventually I'll start needing other employees or accountants or lawyers...

Harvest Moon tonight.

Well, actually this afternoon, but I can't see it in the sky, so I guess it doesn't quite seem real that the moon was full while the sun was shining. Craziness . . .

I have been pondering my religion a lot lately and gathering information about it for my collection of odds and ends I call a Book of Shadows. A while back I bought this book by Patricia Telesco called Advanced Wicca. I had been bored by a lot of other books on magick and Witchcraft, because most of the ones you could find were basic and said the same things I'd heard a billion times, but I had never really wanted to go for that one because I am not Wiccan and also I was afraid with a title like "Advanced" it might be something that was over my head. I bought it anyway, or rather, I chose it as a gift someone wanted to get me, in place of another book I wanted but could not find. That was back in April, and I haven't gotten around to reading it, until now.

I was surprised to find that much of its advice and its telltale signs of "adepthood" were things I already followed. It isn't over my head at all, and it hasn't been conscious hard study but rather experience and living that's brought me to where I am. It still has quite a bit of content on random things I'd like to try out, but I'm really glad I got the book, because it gave me some basis of understanding "where I am," so to speak.

Okay, so here's my menu log of stuff I ate today for my diet:

Breakfast:
1 granola bar: 120 calories

Lunch:
1 apple: 80 calories
1 hard-boiled egg: 75 calories
1 English Muffin: 120 calories
1 Chips Ahoy cookie: 55 calories

Snack:
1½ cups salad: 15 calories
Dressing:
2 tablespoons lite Miracle Whip: 70 calories
1 tablespoon Heinz Ketchup: 40 calories

Dinner:
12 Crispy Crowns potato bits: 170 calories
¼ cup dried apricots: 100 calories
1 tablespoon Heinz Ketchup to go with 'em: 40 calorie
¾ cup broccoli: 30 calories
2 pickle slices: 20 calories

The total for that is 935 calories. That only leaves me 65 calories today. That's just enough room to have ONE crescent cake in my esbat celebration tonight. ::Snort:: I used to eat three or four. Guess I must pace myself, and give the rest of the batch to my mom or something when I go visit her. I'm making her a birthday card tonight. Fun. I sure hope this diet thing is working, I would like to get below 110 by the end of the week. (That's only two pounds away, but when you're small you lose weight slowly.) Oh well.

Yesterday | Tomorrow

I slacked long and hard today. I haven't left the house at all, haven't done the laundry, paid the bills, checked the mail, nothing productive at all. I have been putting in about 60 hours a week at work, so I feel really weird about completely ignoring it all day today.

Today was the Sunday before Labor day, and I didn't wake up until after 7am, which is very rare for me. I had to take several sleeping pills last night, and still only managed about six hours of fairly restless sleep.

Meals today included instant oatmeal, a loaf of frozen garlic bread, and cheddar and Ritz Crackers.
I did shower, but I have done nothing else but play on a MUD Juliet convinced me to go to, and hang out on #everything. This is also an open invitation for all of you to come visit us in #everything. Think of it as a realtime chatterbox.

Today:

  • I am happy that Void_Ptr has become an aunt.
  • I am still hoping that (Darsi) and TheBooBooKitty are as serious as they sounded in their earlier daylogs... I like to see people happy.
  • I was extremely upset to learn that Dann has Guillain-Barré syndrome; I was once a corpsman, and I have known people that have had it before. Dann is a wonderful guy, I am proud to have met him, and I am sorry that something like that could happen to such a good person.
Several people enjoyed and agreed with what I wrote in yesterday's daylog. I got enough positive feedback that I am convinced that it is a worthwhile thing to do now. As I think about it more and more, I have come to feel that everything is almost solely about the community it engenders. The mentoring, the Incestuous Everything phenomenon, #eveything... All of these are related to us, and how we interact with each other.

Don't daylog for yourself; What's the point? Daylog for the people that care about you, so they know what is going on in your life.

distraction, procrastination, laziness. it's been nice lately, the way a warm white chocolate mocha is nice when the wind is too cold and I purposely forgot a sweater.

my words are subtle, I tell him, then he looks at me and he knows the words are there just beneath the surfaces but I'm such a coward.

my words are bold, he replies and I envy that.

I don't know how to explain it except that I feel my arms are open, stretched out wide and awaiting the world because I want to give it a hug. I want to hug the world and tell the world you are beautiful today and it boggles my mind that they don't understand.

my world is made up of words and sometimes that is all I remember of people. after a while their image is blurred and I can only remember their eyes, their noses, their mouths, but I can never put them together right and if I tried it'd be distorted. maybe I like it that way. I remember their words, though, only a couple words here and there and they mingle about with the other words that have been tucked away.

sometimes I don't know where my words begin and where theirs end.

I woke up this morning and I couldn't tell if I was still drunk or not and I ate some breakfast with my mom and she sat there so still and quiet and I wanted to scream at her. don't you know it's a beautiful day? but all she did was read the newspaper. instead I went to bed again and took my thoughts with me and it's been the first dream I can remember in far too long.

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