LustingforNightmares

tumbleweed
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2018-03-13 16:07:56 (UTC)

Jesus Christ Girl


"Maine Island Lovers" by Okkervil River [I like how this song sounds like the ocean]
When I fell
on the concrete
it was lovely,
because you could see
what’s been running
so hot in me.
But when I fell
on the concrete,
you went white as
a sheet
and wished that nothing
in this world
would ever hurt me.
Well, keep wishing.

March 13, 2018 Tuesday 4:09 PM

Yesterday, I felt empty and slow until a customer at work told me I had a beautiful smile. I try to be friendly because, you know, I am a cashier, so whenever a person comes up to the counter I smile at them and this girl was just so nice—and my heart almost broke at that kindness, it was amazing. The effect that that comment had on me—had me smiling for the rest of the day. It made me enjoy work again, and sing in the shower which I haven't done in a couple weeks.

Later that night, after a review session for Bio, I was stopped by this small asian girl with a huge guitar slung over her back and a music stand with sheet music on it. She bounded out from her stand and ran up to me; asked me if I believed in Jesus. He was a real dude and everything, but I don't really believe in the religious stuff, so I said, "No." She said, do you believe humans have a soul? She had this way of moving her hands, they were tense and controlled and gesturing at your torso. She talked more to your torso than to your face. Anyway, I said "No," and for a moment she was at a loss. Don't you think we are more than just meat? she asked me. But my personal belief is that we aren't—and that is what is interesting about us. I cut the conversation short and rushed away but when I was about a block away, I stopped and turned around and suddenly wanted to understand her.

So I headed back to my dorm to get a coat, all the while setting up some boundaries for myself. I told myself not to challenge her beliefs, and to try to remember the whole time that she is a human being. My curiosity stemmed from where it always stems, which is a desire to write. I think it's easy to lose humanity when observing a person as a work of literature rather than, you know—a person... So I just told myself to be careful, is all. And I went back to listen to her speak.

When I got back, she was talking to another guy about religion. She explained that she is a student here, and that she used to be an unbeliever and none of the bible studies here appealed to her. She said the words "righteousness," and "sins of the flesh," and her small arms were tense when she did this. "The sin is in the flesh," she said, with the tips of her fingers pressed together and pointing down at the opposite arm. She said the crucifixion is what really matters, that Jesus died for our sins. We are Christian if we anoint ourselves in the holy spirit (and here she pointed her pressed fingers at her breast plate), which is inside of us and will lead us to righteousness and away from our unnatural human world. It is the way to immortality. She also talked about Satan, and how he is real and exists in human materialism. She said before she was a Christian, she was always thinking about how she looked or how she talked or what she wore, and the holy spirit leads us away from that. She showed me passages from the King James bible, and I had a hard time making sense of them in the context of what she said, but I had a certain respect for her at once; respect for her strong desire to do good, and to share what she believes is the path to salvation or whatever. I don't know. I might go to her bible study, just so I can listen to her more and detangle her impassioned broken english (at some point one of the passages said, "O wretched," and she read it as, "O rich man." It wasn't a mispronunciation, that is what she said).

I guess I did it because I had nothing else to do. And because I'm lonely, and feeling kind of lost and purposeless lately, and in desire of a salvation. I can't save me, therapy can't save me, and other people can't save me, so what can? Maybe belief, I don't know. But my practicality is kind of the core of who I am; my skepticism automatic. So I don't know if I could ever bring myself to accept faith, even if I'd like to.

---

I woke up sad today. I meant to wake up early, because we have a snow day and I had a midterm tomorrow so I wanted to study all day. Instead I woke up at two and I wanted to cry. I couldn't sleep well because Moby dominated my thoughts. He is always what wakes me up too. I get up so I don't have to lie there thinking about him. We haven't talked much lately and I am afraid he doesn't want to be around me at all. I don't want to ask, though, because honestly talking to him (and even talking about him with other people) kind of hurts. This is disgusting and annoying, and I am pretty sure that the only reason I have been generally sad for the past two weeks is because of Moby, which pisses me of because he is fine. I don't care if he's sad about me! He's fine. He has fucking friends who will help him through this. People who love him.

I don't feel like I have that? There is Karina, but I don't talk to her so much about my issues. I have fragile friendships with Nadiya and Marie, but they are much better friends with Moby than they are with me so. I don't want to talk about it with them. If anything, I would talk about this with Moby but I can't?? Because it's about him??? And because we are in a weird spot????

I am just extremely lonely. And I am subjecting myself to this pain. I could easily just confess to Marie or something that I am not doing good, but am I doing that? NOoo. 'cause I'm afraid of some vulnerability.

I am mad that I feel any sort of sadness for Moby, because to me it is like it has come out of nowhere. And it seems stupid to me. Why should I be sad? He is still there, existing. Why are things weird? This is so frustrating, and it's the kind of problem dealt with in TV shows about kids in high school, but not now, nooo, because I am a "late bloomer" I am dealing with it now and I am embarrassed that it is even something I have to deal with, have to feel. This is just a part of the human experience, I remind myself. Well, it's gross, says the petty part of me with her arms crossed across her stomach. My heart burns, ugh. Fucking gross! Gross. This is probably what Moby doesn't like about me—is my immaturity when it comes to romantic emotions. I hate that he's more mature than me. I am a child. I consistently feel like a child, but especially in comparison to him.

I don't even find him attractive (objectively speaking)! But I also really do. Okay. Okay. I am okay. I am glad I wrote about this. I feel kind of better, and more prepared to do my studying now. I miss Moby a lot. I miss everyone. I am very lonely, and I wish I had a community like Karina does. I guess she has one because she actively sought it, though. So that is what I have to do. But I am tired and busy. Ugh, maybe I should join a club.

We'll see. Or, you'll see (you being the reader—if there are readers). Because I am blind to myself.


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