2.28.2002

i want to be mysterious and untouchable.

i want to travel to bali.

i want to wear lacy camisoles and flowers in my hair.

i want to live in a city where people still walk, and still stop to admire the beauty.

i want spring.

"yesterday, i saw so much unhappiness in people's eyes, all of us rushing somewhere. construction noise and dust filled the air; we could have been hurrying down some boulevard in hell. and I was reminded that this is hell unless i extend compassion to those around me. if my heart isn't open, i'm just another tourist here, collecting memories, looking for the perfect souvenir." - sy safransky

congratulations mr. safransky. you've hit it right on the head.

2.24.2002

my mom bought lemons, tea and bubble bath.

we saw "i am sam" which definitely earned a spot on my top ten.

from "the alchemist" by paulo coelho:

"i don't live in either my past or my future. i'm interested only in the present. if you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man. you'll see that there is life in the desert, that there is life in the desert, that there are stars in the heavens, and that tribesmen fight because they are part of the human race. life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living right now."

2.10.2002

.....

unfortunately i've gotten myself into trouble. hopefully through this i can begin to appreciate my life (right now).

i'm sorry to the people i've hurt.. but i still have a today and a tomorrow, and i am learning from yesterday.

i will write more once things have smoothed out.

2.07.2002

a few days ago this house, this family and this girl seemed so bright, but once again things are slowly dimming. i'm so scared to fall back to my demise.. let myself get tiny, get lost in a drunken haze.

i just can't carry what people are throwing at me.

the tea isn't helping anymore.

i need somebody to hug me (then suffocate me).

from "cherry" by mary karr:
oh for chrissake, mother. come here, you say. when you hug her, she feels oddly pliable in your hands. she draws back to look at you with that abstracted expression she brings to her sculpture. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, pinching a caress along your jawline like it's clay she's shaping. but she's not shaping you anymore. she long ago asked you to shape yourself, occasionally tossing out a strand of worry for you to dismiss.

2.04.2002

i think i need to cry

two more hours until this bad day is over.

7:50 a.m. i woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
8:45 a.m. i was forced to have a conversation with my ex-boyfriend who is a constant reminder of my stupidity, and ofcourse his own.
11:25 a.m. my car wouldn't start.
5:35 p.m. i had to go the mall.

stupid reasons, stupid day.

and i'm tired of feeling numb.