LustingforNightmares

tumbleweed
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2018-04-10 22:21:18 (UTC)

in the unoccupied space


"Caitlyn" by Jank [I think Elise might like this song? It has cool guitar, very mathrock]

You're not real
But you're something
You're not real
But you're everything

April 10, 2018 Tuesday 10:28 PM

I am all worn out. I have felt really good lately, if a little deprived from physical touch (I craaaave it, oh my god). I had a calc 2 midterm today and it didn't go as badly as it could've. I have suddenly been feeling really guilty and bad about Moby, though. Like, I just... feel kind of bad! For having made a big deal out of things. All of a sudden it seems so small, so needless. I am going to wait a bit, just to make sure I'm as okay as I think I am, but hopefully over the weekend he will be available to take a walk and we can discuss ~future prospects.~ God, I can't wait for things to go back to normal. But we were never friends, so I guess this will be a new normal. Either way, I hope any emotions dissipate. I will probably always find him pretty but at least right now I can't imagine having a thing with him. I feel like it'd just end poorly.

I am lying, I can totally imagine having a thing with him, but it WOULD end poorly. I should hold off on talking to him until the answer to the question: "Would I date him if he suddenly chanted his mind?" becomes a resolute no. Or becomes a semi-confident no at least, rather than a, "No... well... okay maybe."

I've been sleeping soooo much better, though, and—ugh, things are just going better. I'm impatient to put this whole thing behind me. I've grown from the experience, etc. etc., okay. Now let's just like. Be Normal.

---

April 11, 2018 Wednesday 4:23 PM

Had a dream, a very strange dream, when I slept from noon to four after class today. Had a bit to do with grandma and a bit to do with Moby and a bit to do with an unnamed autistic guy who I was interested in. The parts with Moby were strange, had to do with him and his girlfriend doing very intimate things in front of me, pet names and stuff, and that made me feel terrible. And then there was the autistic boy. I don't know how I knew he was autistic, but I guess he had some high-functioning thing; it was just known. I wanted his big hands on my knee, positioning just slightly towards the inner thigh, resting there, all the time. I was leaving wherever we were because of the Moby thing, but suddenly my grandma was there and she was begging me not to leave, not to leave, not to leave. She wanted to see me successfully walk on water. I could do that easily, everyone else kept collapsing through the water, but I would just bound across like it was some semi-solid, like jello. I'm thinking of waterski bugs, of surface tension, of density. I didn't sink, I just bounded across and she wanted to see that, photograph it, film it, but I didn't listen.

I gathered my things—an industrial-sized bottle of nail polish (a slightly subdued hot pink with glitter in it) with the cap off, so it was partially dried. Some clothes I vaguely recognized. There was a copy of Beloved under my bed, but I left it there and continued packing and crying, packing and crying.

When I woke up, I felt more confused than sad, but I get the message: I can't be friends with Moby yet. I will try to be patient.

---
April 12, 2018 Thursday 8:49 AM

I like. I like the way we take photos. It was such a beautiful morning, with that soft yellow sunlight and frigid forty degree air. I saw a guy on the main green stop and take a photo of Sayles Hall, and I wondered if he was a student or not. Maybe he was just taking a picture for Snapchat's sake, the way I sometimes take photos of the floor solely to overlay it with the more important words. And then I was wondering if it is possible to find all these pictures somewhere, lost in the ether or internet or whatever-same-thing. Can you reconstruct a whole world from photos? Dimensions and everything?

And then I think, well that would be a little hard, because people don't take photos for accuracy. People take photos as fillers or reference points. It is not for the purpose of reconstruction. Still, maybe it would work.

And then at this point I saw two people on the main green, 8:40 in the morning, the girl cross-legged and reading something with a guy asleep, his head on her leg. That was a good image to see this early in the morning. Makes me wonder what goes on in their life, that they wake up and go outside so early in the morning only to do homework and/or sleep. Maybe he or she has an exam in an hour or something. But then, why the green? I guess because it's beautiful. But I don't know, my reconstructions aren't enough. I want to know what they think. I want to know what considerations go into their tiny decisions.


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