Still Building And Burning Down Love

It's U2 for 24 hours today, so sue me.

...

Tomorrow (actually, in a few hours), our baby goes to production. Except that I'm not so sure if it's still my baby, or maybe it is, except that it hates its parents like all babies eventually do.

Don't get me wrong, I'm relieved that we're here. But at what cost? And relief is to happiness is like, well, settling is to living your dreams.

There was a moment last night that I realized I had very little to do with the decision to move forward. And that didn't feel nice. And there were other moments when I wish I'd just disappear.

...

My right side still hurts. The drugs have worn off.
You gave up on me after fifteen minutes. Split-screen sadness.
I came home at 2 AM without accomplishing anything.
Some days it feels like I'm walking around with one lung. Or that my heart would beat right out of my chest.
I know exactly where I wanted to be and spent an hour and a half trying to ignore it.

I dare you to find a sadder boy.

In Places No One Will Find

The title has nothing to do with anything. I jut wanted to get that out of the way.

This is a drunken post, so pay no mind.

Today I want to wake up as somebody else. Ok, I've watched too many movies to know that's a half-truth. I want to wake up as a smarter, taller, emotionally stable version of me.

Somebody told me something tonight that made me realize, I don't want to be like everybody else. Maybe somewhere else I said otherwise, I don't know. I don't get it either.

I have a special power. Every thing I touch turns to crap.

No one should ever drive home with a broken heart. No one.

I need my best friend. As in, right now.

On the way home I stopped by for another drink. I don't know what made me do it. Maybe it was the beer, but I don't think so. I just wanted something familiar. But not routine.

Keep your secrets. I will turn it into crap if i get wind of it. Or. I really just don't care in either case. I don't care about whether you succeed or fail in your new thing. I was just trying to make conversation. It's not important. Nothing is to me anymore.

Maybe I am a masochist. How does the line go. Who makes me feel glad/Just to be sad/Thinking of you.

Hi. I'm 28 and I'm in this weird place where I haven't really taken the steps to be 28 yet. I'm not 22 either. I still buy CDs off the rack and OPM will always mean the Eraserheads and my favorite TV show will always be one week apart and love is eternal. When I was 16 (and 18 and 22 and 27) I took what was a promising future in being me and ripped it apart because I was scared and hurt and because somewhere I imagined a connection existed where there was not. Just because you aced Psy 101 doesn't mean you get it and even if you do I won't fucking listen to what you think the answer is.

I have trust issues. But you knew that before you got here.

Thansk for having that vote of confidence. I know I haven't done much to deserve that. But thanks nonetheless. It's nice.

The doctors (real ones) still don't know what is wrong with me. I'm too shy to tell them my theory.

Where have I been these past twelve years?

I want my life back.

I Want To Feel Something Other Than This

I guess that sums it up.

So there's really no point to the next few paragraphs, is there?

My friends tried their best to cheer me up, and it worked for a while, and I love them for it, but since they're my friends they also know I'm stubborn, so it doesn't really last. At least I have new quotes to barely live by.

I went to my temple. No, not Rockwell. The alma mater. The fresh air did me good but nothing much after that.

Retail therapy worked for all of eight minutes. That's a thousand bucks per minute.

Someone warned me about chemicals, so much for that. Besides, I'm not cool enough.

I'm too tired to go on.