Ranting.

Drama. No drama. No fucking drama at all, but I may have a plan- I’ve got one half of a round trip ticket to Phoenix and until September to use it. If I go by plane to Phoenix, I could spend time there and then James and Dan could pick me up when they swing through on their road trip, and there’s my ride back. Muah ha ha, I am beyond brilliant.

I had such strange dreams last night. I woke up mad. I’ve woken up scared, and sad, and happy before, but never as livid as this morning. I’m rarely that mad in waking life. Fucking odd, I tell you.

I had something to say here, but I’ve forgotten it.

I'm feeling kind of upset with myself, just for letting things go to hell. With other people, I mean.

I have all these friends, people I look up to, want to be around, admire and want to emulate, but instead of keeping in touch and actually working on the relationship, I let myself bop in and out of their lives. That makes me a shitty person, right? Well, yeah, it does.

It's not as if I don't think about these people more or less constantly. I do, I just don't do anything about it. And half the time, I don't want to. I don't have the energy to get on AIM and talk to a bazillion people at a time. Or write a ton of letters only to find out I have no stamps, and by the time I get stamps the letters are outdated; which is always the case.

Maybe it has something to do with the way I live, and how I deal with time, which is not the way everyone else does.

And now I'm rambling and I have absolutely no idea what point I was trying to make, except that I love all of my friends, even if I can't keep up with them.

Ranting.

Drama. No drama. No fucking drama at all, but I may have a plan- I’ve got one half of a round trip ticket to Phoenix and until September to use it. If I go by plane to Phoenix, I could spend time there and then James and Dan could pick me up when they swing through on their road trip, and there’s my ride back. Muah ha ha, I am beyond brilliant.

I had such strange dreams last night. I woke up mad. I’ve woken up scared, and sad, and happy before, but never as livid as this morning. I’m rarely that mad in waking life. Fucking odd, I tell you.

I had something to say here, but I’ve forgotten it.

I'm feeling kind of upset with myself, just for letting things go to hell. With other people, I mean.

I have all these friends, people I look up to, want to be around, admire and want to emulate, but instead of keeping in touch and actually working on the relationship, I let myself bop in and out of their lives. That makes me a shitty person, right? Well, yeah, it does.

It's not as if I don't think about these people more or less constantly. I do, I just don't do anything about it. And half the time, I don't want to. I don't have the energy to get on AIM and talk to a bazillion people at a time. Or write a ton of letters only to find out I have no stamps, and by the time I get stamps the letters are outdated; which is always the case.

Maybe it has something to do with the way I live, and how I deal with time, which is not the way everyone else does.

And now I'm rambling and I have absolutely no idea what point I was trying to make, except that I love all of my friends, even if I can't keep up with them.

Quizzes I've been taking but was always too lazy to put in my journal.

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(no subject)

Last night I was riding on the back of Justin’s motorcycle, going sixty five down Route 31. Not an outstanding incident in and of itself, but I had the strangest urge to fling myself off the back of the bike. The rational part of my brain said that if I did something so stupid, and at such an odd angle, I would wind up quadriplegic or dead or horribly maimed and disfigured; but something else told me that if I let go, I would fly, and land harmlessly over on the shoulder.

I don’t know which of the outcomes surprises me more.

It wasn't suicidal- at least, not in the textbook sense- but it was such an odd sensation. Time stood still for those few seconds, and I knew I wouldn't have gotten hurt had I jumped.

I might not have ever been seen again, but I wouldn't have been hurt.

(no subject)

Last night I was riding on the back of Justin’s motorcycle, going sixty five down Route 31. Not an outstanding incident in and of itself, but I had the strangest urge to fling myself off the back of the bike. The rational part of my brain said that if I did something so stupid, and at such an odd angle, I would wind up quadriplegic or dead or horribly maimed and disfigured; but something else told me that if I let go, I would fly, and land harmlessly over on the shoulder.

I don’t know which of the outcomes surprises me more.

It wasn't suicidal- at least, not in the textbook sense- but it was such an odd sensation. Time stood still for those few seconds, and I knew I wouldn't have gotten hurt had I jumped.

I might not have ever been seen again, but I wouldn't have been hurt.