Ad 2:
2002-12-10 04:16:22 (UTC)

part one

the last time i wrote in this thing, maybe last week, it
all got erased and i was already so "fuck it" that i didnt
i should be reading about saint francis but after today i
think it would do me good to let loose a bit.
i realized at some point today, that i was not just in a
good mood. there was, after all , no reason i should have
been in a good mood. i was in a bad mood, lukewarm at best
mood, all weekend. i was sad and torn about this pain in
the ass guy i love. i went to sleep dreading waking up in
the morning and facing the day, the week. dreading the
paper i had to write, the commute every day, the kids who
will fail the writing test anyway, dressing up as saint
francis and giving a speech in front of my whole class. i
would have rather died than do any of these things last
night. but i woke up alright, only spent a few seconds
holding a pillow and wishing it was chris, got in the
shower, on the train... my spanish thug was waiting for
me, who laughed at my red cheeks from the cold... and as
the day went on, i just got more and more manic. fidgety,
jumping from one place to the next, talking alot, feeling
really good, very confidant, manic,manic. by the time i got
home i was so horny felt like my clit was the size of a
golf ball and i made some little pizza bagels and pranced
around the house, ranted to julie, who suggested i
masturbate, which i did, and thank god it worked. after
that i was a little calmer, and able to sit and read. which
is when the downfall happened. relaxing, and reading, i
must have jumped through 6 or 7 radically different moods.
i went from pondering if i should kill myself before or
after the dressing up as saint francis thing (before,
obviouly) getting scared because these were the kinds of
thoughts i had when i really tried to kill myself (i dont
WANT to do this stupid social studies homework. i'd much
rather die) to then being physically exhausted by living,
to then wondering how much a one way ticket to california
would cost, to seriously pondering just leaving, escaping
this place, to thinking of mike saying in response to my
suggestion of raising my kids in the rainforest (don't you
want to raise them HERE? ) to my pep talks with self after
italy (dont you want to be yourself HERE? where its
happy and content reading my book and taking notes and
being ok with life and what is going on, to then thinking
good fucking riddence to chris, and i can do so much
better, to thinking maybe i could do better but what does
that mean, nothing really, nothing, nothing, then getting
very pissed at God for not letting me love again, again i
am not allowed to love, this time love for someone that
actually loves me back... to being perfectly sure that we
will definately get back together, to being perfectly sure
we won't to wanting to call him up and say THIS IS NOT WHAT