2002-05-24 | 8:47 a.m.

I can't tell myself it will be all right. It may never be all right.

The news keeps telling me the city is on high alert but to go about my business like it�s a normal day. Excuse me when the fuck is �high alert� normal? I�m tired of this all. I�m not strong enough to wait around for whatever may happen. My nerves are raw already. If it�s going to happen then let it happen so I can try to deal with it. Don�t keep me hanging like this. And I say this knowing full well there is no one to listen to me. So instead I try to distract myself, divert my attention from whatever grief and pain and stress I�m still feeling. It�s my way, fuck I invented it. But then again when did my life become a nightmare that I can�t seem to wake up from? This whole week I�ve been on edge. I wake up in the middle of the night thinking I hear bombs exploding. I look out my window to see if I can see people running. But there�s always nothing but white noise. And I�m beginning to think I�m going mad. It�s not normal for me to cry while I�m sleeping and wake up to find tears still streaming from my eyes. It�s not normal for me to jolt from my bed every time I hear a noise. It�s not normal that I still put my shoes next to my bed just in case I need to get up and run. It�s not normal, and I�m beginning to wonder if I am really going mad. And I really wish my heart was made of stone because this way I couldn�t be this emotional, this way I would go through life�s routines totally numb. I wouldn�t ever feel overwhelmed in the bad or good way. It would all be a lull. Unfortunately for me I�m not made of stone, let alone my heart.

I have a half day today. I can leave at 3. And instead of walking home like I always do I intend to go watch a movie with a friend. Here�s hoping it�s worth spending the 10 bucks I�m dishing out for it. Then again going to watch a movie is better than going home and pretending that nothing may happen to New York again.

You know what I hate? When I say something I�m thinking out loud about all of this high alert shit going on now, and people freak out more. What I hate the most though is when my mom or anyone else says �don�t say that, your bringing out negative energy. It�ll bring on bad luck.� What the fuck? I�m sorry, it�s because we�ve all had so much luck before? It�s not bringing bad energy. It�s trying to understand, trying to protect myself for what may come. It�s a fucking reality after September 11th.

I�ve been on this Weight Watchers diet now for one week. I want to chew off my own arm at certain occasions because I�m so friggen hungry. But I have to keep at it because my doctor says I am too fat and being this fat is not healthy what so ever for me. My mom tells me she can see I�m losing weight in my face already. And I have to admit, my pants have grown a little bit more loose too. So I�ll continue till I drop the Buddha belly my doc wants me to drop. It still doesn�t mean I don�t hate this diet, because I do. I hate it with a fire of ten thousand suns. But it must be done so I shall shut up and continue doing as I�m doing. Eating a meal that could be called malnutrition at a Nazi War camp. Whatever though, it has to be done.

That�s all I have to say for today. I�m fidgety and I might as well work through this then sit here for a bit and wonder and be all paranoid like I was at home.

Later�



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