i wish i had a girl who looked good, i would call her.
current mood: yay
current song: as time goes by (theme from casablanca)
here comes the hypocrite train:
MY GOD, PEOPLE, DO YOU KNOW HOW BLOODY RARE IT IS TO FIND LIKE-MINDED PEOPLE IN A WORLD THIS LARGE? OR HOW HARD IT IS TO FIND SOMEONE TO ACTUALLY LOVE YOU, BE IT A FRIEND OR LOVER?
IT'S FUCKING DIFFICULT.
(that was the no-duh caboose of the hypocrite train.)
eileen is the only person with perhaps the exception of vladimir who has actually silently watched me self-destruct, offering nothing more than a shoulder or kind word if i needed it and- get this- NARY A JUDGEMENT, though much of the time my destruction was affecting her directly. eileen knows how to deal with me when i'm upset, eileen is one of maybe five people that helped me really remember that there's a bit of an enigma about me that is worth the attention of the ocassional passing soul and worth the love of absolutely incredible people that i seem to make it my mission to assemble in my patchwork heart. these people are so beautiful and awe-inspiring and oftentimes so bogged down in the daily sludge one has to go through to keep a little hope in their eyes that they can't recognize that they are the only reasons i am still alive and joyful about it.
heather in ohio.
sarah and godard movies at tower,
jenny and all her sad and lovely pictures.
y'all qualify for this category.
i'm so sorry if for any reason you have ever felt like you didn't mean the whole world to me. if this sounds melodramatic, put it in the context of the bits of my personality that you know (aka "LIFE IS DRAMATIC! LOOK AT THAT GODDAMN SUNSET AND YOU JUST TRY NOT TO LET IT MAKE YOU THINK ABOUT BENEVOLENT FORCES WE'RE ALL REALLY HAPPY TO LET STAY UNKNOWN BECAUSE THAT KEEPS ITS MEANING TO ONLY LOVE INSTEAD OF HATING ANYBODY, WHICH WE CAN'T BECAUSE THAT SUNSET IS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL."etc).
two weeks ago i saw my father, whom i have not seen in ten years. he is an old man now and keeps a photo of me, aged 8, on his desk. he's had a stroke and shake-shake-shakily hands me things from a combination of the aforementioned and thirty years of alcohol abuse. i spent two days after the visit in my bed, and i woke up okay.
i failed my written permit test yesterday, so i did some laundry and now i'm okay.
for my 21st birthday a week or so ago i got the papers which mean my trust fund is finally mine, though it's not liquidated til mid-july or so. ten thousand or so goes to my wonderful and kind mother, who has supported my depression for nearly two years, and i am investing the rest, save three thousand dollars which i am using to take off around this lovely continent to spread the gospel of huggin' to those who haven't had the good fortune of hearing it in a while.
and then i'm going back to school, because richard johnson (first teacher of first class freshman year of college) hath made me want to learn for the rest of my life, if only to accumulate a mass of knowledge one fourth the size of his without being bitter and still having a heart the size of a mastadon.
i am so fucking lucky that the people i love reciporocate. i'm just lucky to have found them at all. i can't even begin to fathom focusing on what i don't have when what i do have is so blasted abundant and every tiny gem in my big pile is of genuine quality.