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2018-04-23 19:04:28 (UTC)

it doesn't have to be like this: thoughts while in search of the bruise

"Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales" by Car Seat Headrest

It comes and goes in plateaus
One month later, I'm a fucking pro
My parents would be proud
Or fall asleep on the floor
Forget what happened in the morning
There are notes in your handwriting
But you can't make it out

We are not a proud race
It's not a race at all
We're just trying
I'm only trying to get home
Drunk drivers, drunk drivers
This is not a good thing
I don't mean to rationalize
Or try and explain it away
It's not okay
Drunk drivers, drunk drivers
It's too late to articulate it
That empty feeling
You share the same fate as the people you hate
You build yourself up against others' feelings
And it left you feeling empty as a car coasting downhill
I have become such a negative person
It was all just an act
It was all so easily stripped away

But if we learn how to live like this
Maybe we can learn how to start again
Like a child who's never done wrong
Who hasn't taken that first step

April 23, 2018 Monday 7:04 PM

You know that feeling? That ache somewhere on your body? Diffuse, but regular like a heartbeat, like some pain from a pimple or a bruise. And when it hurts like that you've gotta feel around the skin till you find the spot where it is centered, embedded in the dermis. That is how I feel about this emotional pain, which I drag out by denying its existence, blah blah.

I think to myself, if I don't really want Moby, then what is the problem here? And I think the simple stripped fact of it is that I am embarrassed, kind of humiliated almost, by the rejection. I mean, to lay it out: he didn't really like me that much. I think about myself and how I'm bound to do the same as he did. But I already knew this. I'm not mad because he did something wrong—he didn't. I am not really mad at all, that's just the easiest place in which to confront the feelings. I am embarrassed and ashamed (that I could have felt something that he, despite all the "signs," did not feel). Humiliated that I was just a precursor to someone better suited for him. Until we get back on equal footing I can't be friends with him.

What is equal footing? A relationship. Not rebounds, a real one, where I've moved on fully to my next humiliation lol. In the process, I will likely commit the same crime as Moby. I will cuddle guys, kiss them, smile up at them as they cuddle me; I think about keeping protective hands on their knees, of nuzzling them, running my hands through their hair, all that garbage during which I will be empty and a little bored, starkly aware of every movement and still going through the motions. This is what is known as "most of the time." All I can really hope is I'll meet a guy who I am sometimes genuinely attracted to (the same way I was *sometimes* attracted to Moby). So that eventually, those gestures won't necessarily be empty.

I think this applies to my friendships to a lesser extent. I hug Karina, tell her I love her, I buy things for her birthday, but mostly I don't feel anything. Sometimes it is genuine, but mostly it is kind of a reminder to myself that this is a thing I have felt and will feel again. She hugged me today and I was unhappy. My friendship with her is like an evolved version of my friendship with Liv. It is a lot of love that I sometimes can't handle. It's like being claimed by someone, lol. I am covered in their piss. Inhale my aroma, their boundless intense love for me. I am sitting in a pool of watered-down urea and to them it is a display of affection.

Today I woke up with a fever. It is my 19th birthday. My roommate tried to tell me about being 19. She laughed and said, "Sometimes I forget and I still tell people I'm 18." I was tired and my head full of hot wet cotton so I did not answer so much as grunted. Barely conscious, I was like: this is stupid. Nothing changes when you turn 19 except now I can drink in Canada.

Parents called me, but I can't remember if this was in the morning or in the afternoon. Mom told me how to Not Be Sick, and Dad acted surprised that I was staying in Providence as if he hadn't been on the phone when I told them the first time. They wished me a happy birthday and I could not will myself to be enthusiastic. I just wanted to go back to bed. I was woken up at noon by a delivery guy sent to bring me cookies for my birthday, courtesy of the parents. This was cute, but unfortunately a bad time. The delivery guy was attractive but I was infiiiirm and had, at that point, had formed an entire stick of wet cotton ball where my body used to be. I ate the oatmeal raisin cookie and watched the film version of Remains of the Day for my english class (we're comparing it to the novel). And at 4:30 PM, I went to the main green to see my friends and they sang me happy birthday and I was just very unhappy with this (it was funny that they used a green bean stuck in a brownie in place of cake/candles though). I wanted to be alone, but I figured it'd be good to get some sun and some fresh air.

Karina gave me a present and was very nice to me. But she has so many needs, and I am tired. I can't be bubbly and funny for her all the time. Marie is a relief in that way; I don't feel any pressure, any sort of container against which to settle. I can just kind of sag.

I was happy to get back to my room. I never want to re-emerge. Or if I do, I want everyone else to be gone and it to be June, it has all worked out all the work is done and I am in a new clean world that I can build myself.

An idealized view of how my summer will go, I know.

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