%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  My first ever Writing.com journal. |
| my body is a knot of aches and pains. i don't get too many headaches, as i was just explaining to marcus; or, at least, not unfounded ones. if i hit my head, or spend too much time in the sun, or cry for a really long time, then sometimes my head starts hurting. not much of a mystery there. but it generally doesn't just pound without reason. it's doing that now, unfortunately. i was a bitch all day, to the point where melony, who hardly knows me, and shouldn't yet be able to differentiate between my varying states of bitchiness, asked if i knew i was being a bitch, and why, exactly. sweet girl. diplomatic. her exact words were "your area looks a little distressed, babe; what's wrong?" but what i heard was "SNARL, pull yourself together, you evil cunt, and clean your fucking side of the room!" because my mind is on fire today, and hence hence i'm hearing everything the way i'd probably say it myself, if i were saying anything. when i feel this crappy, i try not to say anything. i like to mend feelings, not hurt them, and when the choice is slightly crappier, hurt or not hurt period, i don't hurt. i'm not going to be like, miya, get off my bed, i'm tired of watching you roll around on my covers when i want to die painfully in their protective warmth, or anything that dramatic, miya, change the channel, i have told you a thousand times that i don't watch mtv. retch retch retch. remember that revelation i had over the summer, the one about being violent? i could get violent right now. with my roommate, no less, and quite possibly my next door neighbor. and also, disturbingly, my favorite drawstring pajama pants no longer fit. they've never been tight on me, because few things are, but now they sit obscenely low on my hips, and threaten to slide all the way down every time i take a step. this reminds me of something marcus has said, and continues to say, about my hips, about why he likes them: because, he says, they point so suggestively downward; two perfect jutting-out moon shapes to light the way. that remark was my inspiration for the crystal peaks thing, which he knew immediately, because he and i both know he doesn't care nearly as much about breasts. the point is, i'm trying to see this weight loss as negative, because common sense says i really shouldn't lose another ounce, but things like that give it a strangely sexual spin, and sex is good. hips are arrows. deposit here. so laughable for such a plethora of reasons. by the way, did you know that about nine of you used the word plethora in your journals today? meaning that either the storymaster sent out a memo, and i missed it, or that everyone on my favorites list reads one another, and experiences that bizarre sub-conscious inspiration that infiltrates the best of us, i'm sure. the death of grim's list is making me antsy. i need order, kind of, which sounds odd because i'm the messiest person i know (different from being dirtiest; there is no actual dirt amid my messes). but sooooo orderly, in my own obsessive little ways. notice, for instance, that when i fill out a survey, it is always in exactly the same way. same spacing and numbering systems, same punctuation. equally detailed when quoting longer items, which for some reason must be capitalized, no exceptions, though nothing else in this place is. and you wouldn't know this, but i've got the neatest handwriting this side of the chattahoochee. random other small things like that, though on a larger scale, everything is chaos and disarray. the lists, and the handwriting, everything contained, those are all bright spots in the tumult. on that note, a random list, in forward order, because i think the backward thing almost drove aaron crazy: 1. i cannot stand to be in the bathroom while someone else is peeing. even if it's just brushing my teeth, or heading for the shower, or whatever. dorms are hell, because in a dorm this exact scenario happens all the time. i'll be there, brushing, preparing to turn on the shower, whatever, and in she'll walk, and we'll make eye contact and she will proceed into the stall. college is a melting pot; it juxtaposes people from all ridiculously divergent backgrounds, but don't other places have standards for this kind of thing? in silver spring, people kind of understand that it's the peeer's responsibility to not be heard. evidently san diego and baltimore and trinidad and jupiter hold their residents to no such standards. it's going to drive me crazy. and it's for a totally irrational reason, of course; when i hear the stream hit the toilet water, i am invariably overcome by the certainty that pee is coming from the faucet. the faucet from which i poured the water that i'm using to brush my teeth, or under which i am spinning circles in the shower. i am totally phobically convinced that i am going to accidentally drink, or bathe in, urine. 2. you are driving me crazy. and i give up. this has been the "snide cryptic remark of the day" moment. thank you for tuning in. 2b. when people do the above, i HATE that. if you're going to complain about something, or somebody, and if you're dead-set on doing it in a forum that is open to public viewing, then do it candidly, and with no holds barred. otherwise you're just being snide and cryptic, and for no reason, because most people intelligent enough to read are also intelligent enough to discern what kernels actually matter to what you're trying to say, anyway. and because, really, the only harm honesty does is that it unfortunately circumvents that dramatic confusion that we all seem to love. oh yeah, and the more effort one has to exert digging around to figure out whether you're talking about him or her, the more upset he or she is likely to be, regardless. 3. the experiment referenced in the title of this entry was jodi's idea, and a good one. jodi is rather enormous, but she has great ideas. 4. this entire entry is one hundred percent, completely and entirely out of character, for me. i said cunt, i lied twice, i made direct mention of my body as a sex object (which never happens), i said urine, i complained (rather autohypocritically, in fact) about irksome writing.com-specific pet peeves, and i called jodi enormous. what's next? dear god, what's next? 6. i deleted number five, because it was filthy and hateful. 7. the night after i asked about that picture, my nightmare featured a segment wherein sampson ate delilah. and i think i was served something similar one time, in orlando, at a japanese steakhouse. 8. if ernie's still reading, and calls this in, he gets an attention to detail merit badge, if such a thing exists. if it doesn't exist, i'll pick the next best thing. 9. if he's not reading, which he says he doesn't when i get too long-winded(!!!), then i'm revoking our friendship! right now!!!! 10. of course i'm not really. 11. when my head hurts, i blaspheme. god damn god damn god DAMN my head hurts. |
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