Rhapsody in Screwed :: Part IV

05.29.01 :: 20:15

took the rabbit for a walk, avoided calling jerrett, slept way too much. distinctly did not go to work. you know the rest.

had too many dreams, usually containing jerrett. except the one about the murderer who was after calli. that was inexplicable. trying desperately to protect her, locking me out of her apartment, and getting shot at in the hall. shot in the hall, incidentally. it was weird, 'cos i was doing this crazy kung-fu shit off the top of the emergency exit door, and then i got shot three times, but i didn't feel anything, it was just like "oh, look, i'm shot! let me not do that again..." and then i fell off the door, and one of the tynker boys was standing over me looking surprised, and he said something about how i needed to be more careful about this, and expressed surprise that i was hunting this murderer. looking back i'm surprised, too. i had no weapons. somehow i got back into the apt, and the killer was sawing up through the floor, so i tried to knock him back through the hole, but i think i woke up to the sound of a frisbee hitting the window. fuckin' neighbours. i'm back in the Real, and i don't know how i feel about that anymore. :(

jerrett left his tunic on my bed. i did just about what you'd expect, but i swore i'd call today. didn't call. didn't know what to say if she answered the phone and he *wasn't* there. prolly coulda just gone with, "uh, jolly good, i'll call back later" or something lame like that, but that would not put across the point, and the point may best be left not put across...who knows? not i.

listening to front 242. very comforting. don't know why. i guess it reminds me of kent.

i really *should* call. i...*sigh*... i dreamed that i called. it was bizarre. i think that means i really *should*, but...and i know i need to...i have the perfect excuse, but it's not one i can share. (new order :: bizarre love triangle) snickering madly as i notice the music.

god...i spent the weekend with peter pan, and now i don't want to grow up. almost makes me want to go back to freelance graphic design. or freelance anything, to be honest. but that was a bitch of a career choice, and i remember it. i can't justify it to myself. oh, god, i love the world...

"standing on a corner...suitcase in my hand"

called jerrett. it went fairly well, considering that it was a strained and awkward conversation. every so often i would forget that you just can't say things with another person in the room. living alone rocks, but sometimes it just skews reality a bit.

went for kohii with cap'n mollie, ran off at the mouth about how much it sucked to be back in the Real. "did you ever have one of those days where it feels like you've been stabbed in the chest with a glass knife and someone keeps twisting it?" self kick self. why? because i need it to remind myself i'm alive. i keep wondering if i was dreaming. after all, i am once again in my apartment and the neighbours' band is playing the super mario medley. but then i walk into the bedroom, and there is a pink sticky note with a phone number on my calendar.

::tear out heart, throw on ground, jump upon, repeatedly::

it was the longest weekend of my life. it was the most beautiful anything has been in years. only the sarcasm kept me from tears tonite. i was so fucked up in the heart i couldn't put together a complete and coherent sentence. i just kept laughing because it beat the hell out of crying, yet had the same power to convey heart rending despair. i was significantly distracted. ...wonderful warm brown eyes... i can't. yeah, i think that's a complete sentence. i just can't. anything. there's a hole in my heart that would fit a battleship. the world has lost its flavour.