why

I felt like a bottle of coke that had been shaken for three hours and had it's bottle cap turned and cracked open by just a tiny bit. the minute gap that could deal so much damage. I left, turned a corner, and fizzled in the dark. I started home. I walked slowly and prayed to God they wouldn't turn around and see me. I paused many times to turn and look behind me just to give them time to walk farther ahead. I wanted to be alone.

I stood in front of the old supreme court. I thought of all the lives that had been ruined behind those windows, in all those chambers; of the people who had been sent there because they had ruined some one else's life or because they had done something wrong. and it seemed that that dark stone building was more of a prison than a sanctuary of justice and righteousness. a prison that would swallow me whole. It was a symbol of everything that I did not really want but was being thrown at me out of necessity, pushing every other dream further out of my reach. as if they weren't far enough. and I hated and hated it and wanted to pelt it with eggs. but I didn't have any.

and waking up each day, it seems more and more like everything is going the wrong way.

brooding

I kept telling myself that I wasn't in June; that I was in September last year, sitting in the same spot, resting and staring across the field at the building in progress. it didn't work. I was still in June 08.

I wanted to melt into the concrete and stay there forever. cut your losses, you know; seep into the wood and the rock and remain a part of the rhythm of school.

work

I have to work 12pm-11pm tomorrow. goddamn it.

sad

you know, you hear stories about hobos who try to jump in front of a car so they can sue the driver. or bums that break store windows so they can go to jail where they'd have a warm bed and food. or a guy that goes out to get the newspaper in the morning but some how ends up falling into a cesspool; who's son rushes to his aid but some how ends up getting sucked into the malevolent cesspool after him.

and then you hear a story about an asthmatic eczema patient telling people that he is in command school when he's actually in mdc.

things

I find myself feeling very numb and tense at the same time. like dark clouds gathering. like the silence before the storm. the quiet, heavy air.

maybe it's work. maybe work is conditioning me to keep a placid face even when I'm infuriated. who knows. I can't feel anything. I can't shake the feeling that I'm walking in surreal world. nothing is real. and it's going to make me explode soon.

I find myself staring into space in a dream, trying to remember a better time when I could feel.

suppression. maybe that's what's driving me crazy. I should just start screaming at all the selfish unreasonable customers who try to assert their superiority over every one who is working. break a couple of glasses and throw some plates around. maybe then I would at least have some catharsis or something.

I feel unwell. I think I should quit soon.

thoughts

I can't decide whether loneliness or regret is the worst feeling in the world. when it comes to regret, you can't ever go back and change mistakes that you have made. when it comes to loneliness.. I'm sure everyone has been lonely once and knows how awful that feels.

when university starts, I predict that I will be very lonely. no big surprise I guess. but I was thinking last night, that no matter how far life takes me from you, I know I'll love you and that my heart will be at home with you. sigh. I'm really going to miss everyone so much.

dad keeps talking to me about what I should do with my life. and while I do have a vague idea of what I'm going to do after university, I don't want to set down a plan for myself and stick to it and wake up ten years later and realise that I forgot to live. live, like seeing and learning things, experiencing and discovering new things. I wish I could be like a sponge and absorb everything new and interesting and retain all that information.

and if I end up waking up one day and regretting how I wasted my life plodding along with the familiar and the repetitive I think I will liquidate and fizzle.