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misanthrope

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[10 Apr 2005|10:36pm]
i tend to forget about my livejournal in times of extreme chaos lately? which probably actually is healthy compared to "how am i going to word this when i write about it".

i've been driving around in my beat-up car; my right rearview mirror is nicely ducttaped on and finally i feel like i have street cred. i got a job waitressing. more about that later when i collect my thoughts on said subject.

also, some woman named roberta johnson sent me this e-mail: weirdCollapse )

now, i usually don't open e-mails from strangers, but i had a feeling that i NEEDED to open this one. thank you intuition.

now, my feet are aching but i made $40 in tips tonight (split with my trainer), and i haven't had any money in so long that i'm pretty content. things are looking up. writing soon! promise.
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[12 Dec 2004|08:39am]

and if they ask, this is how i want to be remembered.
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[10 Dec 2004|08:11am]
winter's instant distribution of fake heat makes me feel faint and flushed with illness. it's hot cold hot cold reminding me of us and what i want is something to just stay. i hold my knees to my chest in bathtubs filled with scalding water and all i dream about is leaving. running away. i know there is something outside my reach. i've seen it in skylines and faces and i don't understand why i can't get it. i've seen people and skies and love that all turns my heart and i think i know where i can find it but it's the getting there. it's always the getting there. my photographic eye has been shut off and my nonfiction sensibilities turned cold.
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[06 Dec 2004|07:46am]
[ mood | oh ]

i have fallen in love with someone i can't have. or maybe i'm just vulnerable. either way, i have a date with someone else and i'm not sure i can put my heart into it.

today is rainy and i think i will skip classes and go to the library to work on my english paper. burying my head in books will maybe make me forget that i have nobody to hold my hand.

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[02 Dec 2004|10:32pm]
a boy from boston came to visit me for five nights in october while my mother was on vacation. and every night we were at my house we slept together in my bed. i fell asleep to his breathing patterns and memorized his little habits. he hand-rolled cigarettes for me. and every time he looked at me, he held my face the way i've always wanted it and kissed me hard. but his eyes were always emotionless. i know, you're thinking i slept with him, but i didn't. i ended up crying in his arms one night when both of us were half dressed and he stroked my hair and told me i had to eat something cause he hadn't seen me eat in days. but we went back to the city on the last night, like our first, and drank more whiskey before falling asleep in seperate rooms. the next morning i took him to the bus station, and i've talked to him for a total of three minutes since.

and you know, maybe i'm sick of this. life is cyclical.

a woman came into the bathroom a couple months ago at school, and we stood at the mirror together, poking at imperfections. she was old and worn-looking, and she sadly told me her hair was parted in the wrong way. i told her it happens to the best of us and she sighed and said, "it's all right. nobody ever looks at me anymore anyway," and walked out.

maybe i should just start telling my stories, instead of being someone so locked up. but i don't trust, i don't.

there are things i wish i could share with everyone, and i wish i could explain what sort of person i am. but it's exhausting and by the time i'm ready to, nobody's there. and i've never been too good at oral communication.
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