2002-01-21 | 11:57 p.m.

On days like this I feel as if my world is on the verge of going mad. Its all a montage of should'a, would'a, could'a. I look back on where I've come from and I look at the woman I've become. And I see the strangest things that suddenly seem so routine to me now and I begin to wonder what it's all about. In the grand scheme. Because after looking at what I've done it hasn't been much. I look at the lines across my body and the layers I wear and I realize how strange it seems to want to be like everyone else when I can hardly grasp who I am on a normal day. It snowed this weekend and as I walked around aimlessly with it falling before me on the streets I realized how suddenly I could be gone. And no not in any suicidal sort of way. I could just disappar in an explosion with a bunch of other people and I realized how little of life we really know and how pointless and meaningful it all seems at the same time. I vowed to myself I wouldn't think about September 11th anymore. I wouldn't think of friends that died. But its hard to settle it when it's not buried. When it's out there in debris that can never be claimed as a body. When you buried a memory but not a person. And I realized how the fates are vicious and how they're cruel. Because you learn too late that you've used all your wishes when you weren't thinking. You've become the fool you thought you never were. And you let it all go to realize that you've buried more friends in your short life than anyone else you know. I can't find the words to describe the hate, frustration, love, hope, sadness so I let it all go and hope that the wind carries it to some place where it can be understood and categorized. Where it can be stored in boxes and be put away.

I decided that I needed to go through my room again with a fine tooth comb. Throw more stuff out. I had endless layers of clothes, shoes, and bags. I thought I took care of it all before but I still felt its weight. So I picked up a few trash bags, opened up my closets and started throwing stuff in. I plan to make my room and endless sea of white. I don't need so much stuff lying around. And I accumulate it. No more buying magazines of things I'll never buy. No more crap. Memories aren't held in objects. They are held in my heart. There is no mystical charm to anything bought. I need to make more changes. Which is probably why I have 10 trash can bags of crap at my door already. Tomorrow I find a charity and donate it all. There must be someone who needs almost brand new stuff.

I cut my hair today. Went across the street and told them I needed a cut. It's much shorter than I intended for it to be, but hey fuck it. 2 inches is 2 inches and it will grow back. I look like I did befire with a simple bob. Oh joy. But its cut. Needed to be done since I've put if off for so long so I'm not going to bitch and whine about it. Plus hair grows back, so what's the point if in a few months it'll be back to what I had it before. Whatever.

My computer is still fucked up. It's been rebuilt but everything is gone. I can't bear to stay on it for too long. It's as if it's hot coal and the more I stay on the more I get burnt. So I curb my time infront of it to minutes. Anything more and my eyes mist over and my lip trembles. So I'm holding back from all of this, which might be a good or bad thing. I don't know. Hell I don't care anymore.

Later...



p r e v i o u s // n e x t