Ad 2:
2016-09-16 19:27:53 (UTC)

Out of Order

"I Would Hurt a Fly" by Built to Spill

I can't get that sound you make out of my head
I can't even figure out what's making it
No one else around even seems to be noticing
It's only small enough for me

I can't get that sound you make out of my head
I can't even figure out what's making it
It feels like fingernails across the moon
Or do you rub your wings together
There's a mean bone in my body
It's connected to the problems that I won't take for an answer
And I won't take that from you
Because I'd hurt a fly

Let you go to sleep
Feeling bad as me
Let you go to sleep
Feeling bad
There's a mean bone in my body
It's connected to the problems that I won't take for an answer
And I won't take that from you
Because I'd hurt a fly

September 16, 2016 Friday 7:28 PM

I feel a little crazy. A little outside of what I am supposed to be, I think. I don't know. People warp me, like rain to... dead wood... I don't know. What kind of thing even warps? I'm that kind of thing.

People are what destroy me.

Lol. Sounds melodramatic. I'm not trying to be. I guess I don't have to try.

Really, though, they kill me a little. I swear it couldn't be worse if I spent my whole day walking through clouds of cigarette smoke. It's just toxic. It saps me. I feel wrong all the time and I want to rip myself to shreds.

Guess I have to peel myself apart again. Keep my school self separate from the rest.

I told Brock that I like being alone, because when I'm alone I don't have to be myself. I can be anyone I want to be. I can experience anything I want to experience.

It's just easier.

Why am I always so dissatisfied, is the question. Like, I can't help but think there really is something inherently... wrong. Written in my genes, amplified by these thoughts I'm having, some horrible underdeveloped part of my brain is twitching. Or maybe it's just an overactive part of my brain. Stanford researchers found a specific area of the brain affected by GAD. So there's that.

But sometimes I don't identify with GAD. Sometimes I feel so calm that I don't feel real, mostly because I SHOULD be nervous, but I'm not. Someone has held an icepack to my heart. That was literally the worst sentence I have ever written. I'm so embarrassed. I want to delete it but I caN'T. Haha. I wish I could tell Alexis about that terrible sentence. She would laugh probably.

I like this song because it sounds so disturbed, what with those sounds he can't get out of his head, because I feel like I've got that sort of thing following me too except for it's not sound, it's sight, it's dirt wedged between the epidermis and whatever the fuck is below that ("dermis," says google, "the dermis is below that." Fuck u google).

Anyway, I can't scrub it out, it's not the kind of thing a person can scrub out but you know that's okay, because it's just come back again.

I think I secrete it.

Some kind of filth.

Maybe I'm like a slug. A trail of slime behind me, only it is this dirtiness I am talking about, a horrible trail of bad feelings for no particular reason. Yes. That is what I am. Who I am.

A dirty thing.

Damn! I need me some therapy. I don't know what's going on. I don't know what's going on!

Is it:

-that I feel awkward at NV? Because it's all fresh and new and I haven't really made a ton of friends or.. even one?

-because Adrian somehow?? Sometimes I just feel shitty after talking to him. I feel like a shitty person. I want to take out all my teeth. I want to take them out.

-maybe because Liv told me she missed me and when I said I missed her too, I was lying.

I DON'T KNOW!!! Truthfully, I have been feeling shitty all week, but I've been trying not to think about it because if I think about it, it'll just make it harder to function.

Now it's Friday and I can depress myself if I want, so that is what I will do, kinda.

The following is very serious. I mean the subject is serious. I am not being serious.

Sometimes I just want to kill myself.

I don't understand how I got here. I'm not ambitious. I don't want to be a doctor. I don't want to help people. I just want to sit by myself in a room with some food and a laptop so I can constantly type bullshit that no one will ever read (because I don't want them to and/or because they don't want to).

I don't want this. I don't want it don't want it don't want it.

What's going on with my body. What is my chemistry looking like right about now? Elevated cortisol levels??? But why? I don't think I'm stressed out. I don't have a reason to be stressed.

Slow-release stress? That's a thing, I think. It doesn't go by that name.




I'M TIRED, LEAVE ME ALONE, BRAIN. Leave me the FUCK alone. God, I just want to castrate you.

My dad told me this morning about how his dead friend died (he crashed his bike). He was all, "He hit his head at a very weird angle and he was probably rolling too and his brain sort of went – like this –"

He did this thing with his hands where he moved them in opposite directions on top of each other, the way my old Earth Science teacher used to do when talking about subducting tectonic plates.

"– and the doctors gave him a CAT scan and told his wife he's got terrible axonal damage, y'know, because the layers moved in opposite directions and all those connections just..."

Like an earthquake in the head. He got torn up in there. I wonder if those severed axons kinda just snapped back to the cell body like a rubber band, or if they just splintered, wood-style.

Here's the thing, I feel really violent, and I love all these beautiful words I'm learning. Like, I'm really enjoying "myelin sheath" and "oligodendrocytes" in particular, and damn it, I love knowing this kind of stuff, I love knowing how it works and why it works.

But I'm not sure I care to discover all those mysteries.

Or maybe I'm just bored by all these diseases we keep learning about.

I'm not going to be a scientist. I thought for a second that I could be, but I don't think so. I like it, I don't love it. If anything, I'll go to med school. I will be a coroner or a psychiatrist or maybe even a neurologist. Not a doctor in the traditional sense. I like the brain. I'm not sure I like the casing.

The whole point of this entry was... Not That.

The point was that I get depressed after being with people. All day I've been thinking, "I want to pull a JD Salinger."

Sometimes I even like the idea of being a mother, but I can't. I can't I can't I can't.

The only thing I love is myself. Which is terrible, but I can't even really feel that guilty about it. I just love myself. Or maybe I hate myself. Either way, I only give a fuck about myself.

I don't give a fuck about my friends. I don't give a fuck about my family. I don't give a fuck about anyone else.

I try to give a fuck about all of these things. On some level I care. I feel like I'm losing it. Shit, I hate myself, I hate everything I think and everything I say and I want to tear my hair out. Oh, I just stopped to remember that scene in one of the Saw movies where a girl got her scalp torn off my some sort of mechanism that just pulled and pulled and pulled on her hair. Is that even possible? Wouldn't your hair slip out of the follicles rather than pull the skin off with it?

God, wouldn't she have terrible PTSD, if she survived? She'd get her head-skins fixed, but then she'd probably keep her hair short and maybe wear wigs when she'd healed a bit... and if anyone ever pulled on her hair – whatever's left, or even the wig – just a little, she'd freak the fuck out.

Oh man. I'm back outside myself I guess.

I regret saying I don't give a fuck about anyone else.

I really do care. I'm just bad at showing it. Why am I so shitty with these things.

And why don't I miss Liv??? I just don't miss her. I don't miss anyone, though. I don't look forward to seeing anyone either. Yo.


1. Adrian has a girlfriend! I know the girl, but she doesn't go to our school. Liv texted me, "Adrian's got a girlfriend now so you don't have to worry about him being in love with you," which was a weird-sounding text to me, but I'm glad.

Still, though, if he's had a girlfriend for a while, why has be still been acting a lil weird around me? Maybe it's my fault. I've been stand offish. I used to laugh at his jokes even when they weren't funny. I don't really do that anymore. I don't know. He might think I don't like him.

I meant to tell him today that I do like him, but I didn't know how or when and how to make it sound not-weird??? And also, I wanted to mean it.

But I only mean these things when I'm alone. By the time I see him, I'm sapped again.

Yay for positivity?

2. Liv is doing really well at clarinet and stuff. She told me a few days ago and my response was probably underwhelming. I tried to bring it up again today to, like, show that I was more enthusiastic than it seemed. She seemed happy. But still, I didn't talk to her much during lunch and I leaned on her but I didn't want to.

I don't understand.

3. Sandwich told me about how much he loves his girlfriend again. We were talking about love and he was all, "I thought I knew love when I had my first girlfriend, I thought I knew love when I married my ex-wife, but now I KNOW."

They're getting married in a couple weeks, ain't that cute? October 8th. I like those numbers.

4. Isaac has really grown as an artist over the last few months. Oh yeah, did I tell you I get to see him again? I'm glad. I missed his face. It's really beautiful. Anyway, yeah, he's got these really nice pens and a sketchbook and he's just doing awesome. He's experimenting with watercolors now too. He showed me this Maurice Sendak-ish pen-and-ink drawing of his.

I told him he's going to be famous one day.

He said, "I know, right?!" I wonder if he's still looking for a boyfriend. As a note, non-readers, he is bisexual. He rarely talks about it, however, because unlike Liv and I, those kinds of subjects make him un-comfy.

5. Why do I feel so bad about being a shitty person?

Everyone's a shitty person and they're delusional if they think they're not!

I love you all. You're shitty because shitty is the definition of human, and I love you because you're also very pretty. Pretty and shitty.

It's sometimes hard to explain my love for humanity – love for their fuck-ups because of the beauty that's in ugly stuff.

6. I'm pretty, I guess. Or, like, I am at first glance. I'm pretty. I look nice.