i'm supposed to be writing lesson plans. they were due yesterday. i haven't started, but rather have wasted many resources printing some bullshit instead. somehow i think, if i print it, i'll be forced to read it out of guilt for having used the
at ali's house, reading zines quietly...reading a lovely part of something miriam wrote about how we select what to purge from our life, or to let fade away. you can't keep everything, and how it's hard to let go but you can't stay in one place forever. i want to find it again and copy that part, and i wanted to send it to thummer although i don't remember why.
ali's in love with a police officer. i must say i'm totally flabbergasted. he must be quite a guy. i'm shocked because a)she's never mentioned anything but a fleeting crush on anyone before and b)she just went right in for the kill. anyway, lonely hearts' valentine's day club, as started by silvan, b-real and i so long ago, will be upheld tomorrow as usual. oh! gotta get some flores for my mom tomorrow. daaaamn. or tonight. daaaaamn. uggggh. we'll see how that goes. i never remember this choice course of action until so late at night. i also have girl drama right now, with a new lady friend who might but might not want to be more than friends. just the sorta crush, the kind where you're not even necessarily crushing, but the smallest glimmer that someone might be interested in you is enough to spark you right up and give you energy to spare. so a big part of the roller coaster is the hugely unrealistic but still present fear of one day maybe having to come out to my family, and we all know how much fun my incredibly grisly realistic horrorwarping fantasies of possible realities that rule my life are. like whenever i get worried that i haven't seen logan around, and i play the scenario of hearing he's been killed in a wreck, or the scenario of life without a sister, always of death, not just wondering, but replaying the scene of losing someone and grotesquely feeling the pain screaming red and bloodpressure through my head, and then having my brain tell my bloodstream that's stupid. stop indulging in that sickness. it's almost narcissistic, because it's always about hwo i would feel losing them...of course i'm always worried about losing them, but circumstances like the ones my brain produces are both improbable in their tragedy and soap-operalike.
anyway. got this book of secret postcards. if i ever got around to making a couple, they might be helpful to my sanity. oh so many shameful secrets....which tempting one to choose?
goodnight! GET UP TOMORROW AND GO GET YOUR MOTHER SOME FLOWERS FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, HAVE SOME GODDAMNED STYLE AND DO IT! HOIST YOUR ASS OUT OF BED, INTO SOME HOSE AND GET IT GOING! ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM FOR ONCE INSTEAD OF ROLL ROLL ROLL MOAN>
and the cheesy qigong closing: tomorrow will be a better day than today was.
