2004-10-02
dynamite all around your diahrrea
[continued from "to be continued right after this"]
x mas is -- no wait.
drinking and smoking the goose is getting fat. Eat more chocolate almonds cuz they're there and you can.
I bought candy from a chubby little schoolboy today. I always think of that movie where the two little kids are selling candy door to door ripping people off, and keeping the money.
Prices are on the rise, too. 5 bucks for a fancy box of chocolate covered "Roasted lamonds". If only I knew the ingredients said "lamonds" instead of almonds. I would've probably spent my whole allowance.
so smoking is gross. luckily winter is coming and I am no longer dedicated enough to bother contracting arthritis everytime I go outside to nic-up.
now, because I've had a little beers, I'm going to divulge some private information -- "diary"land will live up to it's name. Although I've already processed this issue elsewhere, so you get the less anguished, watered-down version.
As you all know, I broke up with G just over 3 months ago. We are on very good and open terms, and discuss all issues that arise -- which are many since we still live together.
We have discussed the issue, for example, of what about if one of us meets someone we find "interesting" or attractive and wants to pursue things to whatever degree. On my part, I actively encouraged G to do so, because he needs that kind of thing more than I do, and I don't want a) to prevent him from feeling good, or b) to walk that hazy line of half-girlfriend half-not. I figure/d if he meets someone else then that will make everything very clear cut.
So, finally he tells me that there is a girl at school who he thinks is interested in him and who he may be likewise interested in. I say, cool, you should try to go on a date with her. He hums and haws, not sure if he's really into it, and finally says, okay, maybe I will. And I say, good, good for you and good for me. So now he's hanging out with her once in a while and I don't know why but I AM FREAKING OUT!! Today is not as bad as the last couple of days, but what the heck?
I still mean what I said before, and I'm not trying to keep some psychotic measure of possession over him, but for some reason I feel really sick and sore over it. I have tons of theories and they all make sense, but the fact remains that I feel like shit whenever I think about it, which is alot -- I'm torturing myself!!
Anyone with a remote idea of what is going on, feel free to e-mail / phone me, because I am quite confused. I do not want to date this guy, this I know. And I've known for a long time. In fact I knew from the day we started dating that it wouldn't work out and he was not right for me. And the whole time we were dating was kind of a drag (mixed with fun and romance, bien sur, but you know - it was a conscious blunder). And he doesn't want to get back together with me either, by the way, so it's not like we're having those kinds of struggles. It's just... god.
And i don't feel the same kind of feelings as when I've been cheated on, it's not like that. He's being really honest, and I told him that even though it's hurting he has to do what he wants and I will just hurt and then it will go away. The main point here is that I don't understand these feelings.
Haha. Maybe the main point is that I don't understand feelings. They are, after all, rather repulsive.
* * *
Now something I think some of you may find interesting is this journal called The Journal of Mundane Behavior. Here is the link:
http://mundanebehavior.org/index2.htm
That should work. I leave it to you to discover the thrills... the dynamite all around you.
Yikes. Dynamite all around... don't tell security.
Should I continue to babble? Spout further inanities? Linger in the lap of small talk? Flap my gums?
No, not today. I shall, now, retreat into the silence of surfing... creepily reading what other people type while pretending to themselves, and maybe really believing, that they're talking. Talking to people. People who are listening. And care.
Hehooha.
Ho.
Hoho. Ho.
You know, can't we call this diahrrealand? (how do you spell that word?)
pansycline at 12:07 a.m.