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2019-03-10 02:12:59 (UTC)


"Done" by Built to Spill

Loneliness is getting hard to perceive
Seems it never comes or it never leaves
Every day we step into some deceit
This should bring the ill-defined to their feet

It's forgiven, it's for you.
All your problems will come true
Said it once, I'll say it once again
This won't make you happy

All I want is you to make up your mind
Come on down and linger here for a while
All I know is what I wanted to say
Disappeared and has yet to be replaced

It's forgiven, it's for you.
All your problems will come true.
It's already done, it's already done
It's already done.

March 10, 2019 Sunday 1:19 AM

What even is next week? It's not spring break, but it's a week closer, isn't it? Do I even want spring break? So much has happened already. I wonder how people develop an understanding of time. I feel like I skipped that part. And I'm forever filling in the gaps, you know? Assuming a certain margin of error in my own approximation, and then basing my schedule off of that. Rather than, you know, intuitively *feeling* the passage of time. Probably no one feels time. Probably the "margin of error" is a universal thing. I need to stop cross-sectioning myself out of the universe, out of the human population. I've done it as long as I've been conscious of being alive. No wonder I think I'm an alien, y'know?

Ugh. I'm thinking about things as if I am unusual. The more likely reality is that everyone perceives time differently, but for the most part it doesn't matter because we all learn to base/time our behaviors off of our own perception and that lines up with everyone else. The same way we might be seeing red as something completely foreign than anyone else—but as long as we recognize some the same distance between our "red" and another shade/color, it doesn't matter. Because as long as we refer to our "red" as red and they refer to their "red" as red, and we're both looking at a green that we call red—we are communicating. Whatever is within our vesicle is kind of meaningless, you know?

Maybe it's like that with time.


For the last week I keep thinking this song is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. I think it's because it sounds like a nicer voice inside my head. Telling me the things I know but with a fraction of the loathing. I am used to someone hurting me constantly, and rolling out images of a past I didn't even realize existed. and she applies all these feelings to images I realize are, objectively, inconsequential. But my issue is I take things too seriously. And I see any minor infraction—performed by myself, mostly—as representative of a larger issue within myself.

The thing is, I'm not wrong. Usually it is representative. The problem comes when I become hurt in a replayed memory because I imagine that the peers who have witnessed the event judge me without realizing my intentions. And then I will have a lot of anxiety because I am convinced that, if I am not able to express my intentions clearly *the first time* then I deserve judgment and whoever judges my opinions/political stances is probably right about me being ignorant or whatever, because I failed to articulate myself properly.

Maybe an easier way to say this is that I don't want to lie. But I don't want anyone to dislike me. And it wouldn't matter so much if I believed anything I ever said, but the problem is I lack conviction. So I am more hurt when I imagine judgment for a view that I only defended for the sake of productive argument than I am for a view that I genuinely support.

You know?


Tonight I got drunk with Maria and she fell asleep in my lap. I kept drinking but I couldn't manage a less sober state.

I felt very lonely. I wanted to kiss someone. I always want to kiss someone when I'm drunk. It didn't help that we watched Pretty in Pink. I wanted to kiss someone so bad. I wanted to feel "weak in the knees" like that one character describes. What's that kind of loneliness, when you doubt that will ever happen? I doubt it all the time.

Even the people I find beautiful, I only find pretty from a distance. It's probably because I don't like myself lmao.

All right. Good night. I've reached something, but it's too late to figure out what.

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