And I think it's going to start raining
Wednesday, Sept. 28, 2005 - 18:16

You may go look at my guestbook to read what I wanted to post the other night but couldn't. It's short. This isn't.

So you might have noticed a bit of a flipout on my part recently, and I will tell you about it. My life was/is stagnating, and the thing with the cute boy was fun and exciting and awesome but still there was no denying my life was stagnating. I have been drifting for two and a half years and that's exactly what I wanted and needed to do for a while and now I'm at the tail end of that phase, I need to stop drifting, I want to stop drifting, but I have felt stuck and lame and stupid and old and craptastic.

I don't have a life, I don't have a porch to sit on, I want a porch to sit on. I don't have a home. I want a home. (I'm not talking about homeownership.) I don't have medical insurance. I don't have a secure job, I don't have secure anything. That is good, but eventually (and not too far off) I would like to have these things.

Harken back to July. This has been coming for a while. I want to do something, I want to do everything, but I've felt like I've been doing nothing.

My roommate goes in my room for reasons unknown. I live way out and walking home at 2 in the morning sucks. I want to move, I want to be closer to things.

I am half a thesis away from a master's degree in linguistics. It's stupid to be so close and not finish. I want to finish the motherfucker.

I'm smarter than much more successful people but I'm not successful because I have no focus or drive. I don't want to become image-oriented but I would like to do something smart that I enjoy and get paid for it.

The cute boy and I have similar interests and thoughts but our interests and thoughts are also very divergent. Our music collections overlap but only a little. And he's smart. He knows so much I don't know, I know things he doesn't know, we have so much we could learn from each other and I want to do that. Our experiences and goals are very different and I want to share with him and I want him to share with me.

This phase in my life will end soon and I just want to live it, every day, because it won't last. I want to be able to walk away from it knowing I lived it the best I could and that I got everything I could out of it.

I bought a literary journal for and by witty women and I read some of the things in it and hated it and decided to give up writing. I don't want to be a big tall overweight woman writing in the present tense about my vagina and about having unathletic sex with big strange overweight men, I don't fucking care how fucking liberating that is. I don't want to write fucking poetry about my fucking teapot or my fucking cats or my fucking friends or how pathetic I am or how I don't have children.

I want to have children. I don't want to be surrounded by overwhelming clutter. I don't want to have unathletic sex. I don't want to get old and fat. I want to age gracefully and happily and contentedly and healthily. I don't want to be addicted to coffee and I don't want to have everything invested in one thing. Like a cat. Or even one person.

I realize I just insulted all of women's literature and sweepingly generalized all women's writers and I'm sorry for that but actually I don't care, I can't stand that shit. I have since decided to continue writing but I'm going to write the shit I want to write, the way I want to write it, and no one else will want to read it because it's stupid and crazy. I want to write stupid and crazy stuff with absolutely no symbolism and I hated Heart of Darkness. I am being insolent and self-indulgent right now.

I could be let go from my job any day. That actually freaks me out.

I was very homesick over the weekend and if I'd gone home I probably would have decided to move back. No. I will go back to school next fall, whether it's to finish my degree in linguistics or start a new one, in writing (but I probably wouldn't be able to stomach the literature classes yet) or library science.

I am packing tonight, sorting, and getting rid of stupid things I don't want or need. There's no need to keep this stuff.

I have been wanting a Moleskine journal for years but had others lined up to use first and now I finally have one and it's interesting to note that I started writing in it last Thursday. This is not chance or coincidence, or cause and effect. That's the way it was supposed to be.

The cute boy is coming over tomorrow night after his class and we both need to start spilling our guts.

Basically, in this entry I'm talking about 1. myself, 2. my roommate, 3. the cute boy.

No, you shut up devil's advocate, I am not writing women's literature right now, this is my fucking top secret online diary. I am not in denial about what I am so shut the fuck up. Besides, if I were to ever talk about sex it wouldn't be unathletic and hairy.

I hope I never stop listening to Kinski, or Sonic Youth.