Stupid disease.
Monday, 03/04/02 - 6:48 pm.

I thought I'd bring from school an inmense feeling of being left out. But love makes you happily suck.

Carmen, as usual, spends time with the Pastoral group. Veronica...well, she didn't even go to school today. And everybody...everybody just walks me by. Collectivities suck.

Happy things of life, I passed math. I got a 6, which is kind of mediocre, but at least I passed it. Under normal circumstances, I'd go: fuck! 6! I'm so fucking mediocre, but math is math, and passing it is all that matters.

I'm seriously thinking about stopping my visits to the girls' restroom. Of course, that's hard to discuss with the bladder. I walked in today and I heard the girls, always those group of girlfriends, talking about all the crap that goes on in their two round brains. They sound like hens who just laid eggs. They're oh-so-stupid, I'm so ashamed. Then they wonder why are we labeled this way or that way. Why can't they just do their thing and leave the place alone for her female fellow? Is that so hard? I mean, I understand, there are mirrors and they want to be often reminded of their physical weirdness, be praised for their exaggerated make-up masks and simply be constantly amused by such appliance...shit. They could at least do it in silence. And get the fuck out of it to leave some room to breathe.

In the afternoon I stayed with Phil, to do part of our social service, by making signs for St. Joseph's....uh, everything. The mass, the celebration, blah, blah, blah.

Fidel and I talked during lunch. I told him about Carmen and her new-found group, and Veronica, on the other hand, feeling not able to fit in anymore. Remember what I told you last year?, he said. I went uh?....two seconds later....HELL, YEAH!. I'm too lazy to look through all the past entries, but I'm sure I wrote about it.

Fidel had basically told me that someday, everything would turn against her. She was always changing her real friends (me, me! look at me!), just to go with someone else, because this or that reason. Didn't she leave her real friends out?. Yes, Fidel. Yes, she did. And now everything is against her. She's going through the same thing she put me through. A word to the wise, I say: all the things come back to you. The Karma cops know where to find you.

Aurora, a friend of mine who got thrown out of school last year, came to visit us today. She cried when she saw us all and we both hugged so hard. I miss her. She's so lovely. Drowned in family problems, but always smiling. She's incredible.

Other than that, the day is really windy, which brought Phil and I several problems while working on the signs.

Yes, I stayed. Guess who else did? Yes, him. *sigh*. I didn't know he was staying, until I saw him coming back from the mall (a lot of people goes there for lunch, since it's about 5 minutes away from school) with Ricardo. Later on, when I started working with Phil, at about 4:15, in front of Julio's office, I saw him coming back from the BKB court. Then he left. Only seeing him at such time, especially when I wasn't expecting it, was a total surprise. And I smiled like a fool in love.

I got home at 5:15. At 5:18, he called. He wanted to do it (what a surprise!). I tried to change the subject a couple of times, which lead him to tell me that he was assaulted yesterday. I heard that and I did panic. Horrible. Of course, I hid it as much as I could, but believe me, that scared the hell out of me. To think that something could've happened to him.....yeah, ok, ok, enough. He passed all of the subjects. Good. I'm dying to...I don't know. I love him, ok? I know everything I've said about this, that I'll forget about him, that he sucks, that I must get over him....but hey, this is love. And if it's not love, I don't know what else it is. It's not obssesion, I'm not thinking of slashing my wrists just because he doesn't love me back. Ok, I am a little obssesed...the usual, I guess. Being in love makes the object of your affection somewhat obssesive and addictive. But at least I'm admiting it.

The reason why I think is love it's...hell, look how far I've dragged this. It all happened in july 5th and 6th. That day (the 6th) when I got home, I cried. I don't know why, I just know it was because of him. I went to Houston for a couple of months, and I thought it'd be of some use, to get over him for good and such...but I came back home and nothing changed. He even asked me to be his girlfriend (I believe it was his friend talking, though, that's why I said no...see? I'm still sane) and...well, here we are now. I care a lot about him. I do think a lot about him. In fact, during the first math period (on monday we have two periods, one after another, 90 minutes, oh, joy *Simeon brings in a paper bag to throw up in*) I thought about him. I wish I could tell him that I'll be alone (because of my parents' trip to Houston) but I know the potential consequences. See? See? I am sane, despite I'm crazy about him *Simeon claps*.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, right. He doesn't love me. Details, little details. Which is a shame, I'm willing to be there for him everyday, without taking away his independence, because I'd like the same for me. On the other hand, that's pretty hard in a love relationship. But this is not love, at least not for him...so I shouldn't be wasting my time. I'll say it again: I don't love him because of his hormones or because of his set of genitals. That's all he shows to me (I mean, his sexual side, not his package). But I love him because, beyond all that, behind all that shallowness, there's a beautiful, beautiful person. You have no idea.

I've talked too much about him today. I've been thinking a lot of him lately, more than the usual. And that's not completely right. And I feel...it's not the butterflies in my stomach that the swimming pool smells like, it's something in my heart...it's like...like a bass drum beating like a hot damn house on fire.

Alan is listening to a burned CD (made by my dearest friend, Angel, aka Head)...he likes the good old Bon Jovi's Slippery when wet. "I'll be there for you, these five words I swear to you".My favorite Bon Jovi song, not that you care, is Bad Medicine.

That's what you get for falling in love (then you bleed)
You get a little but it's never enough (down on your knees)
That's what you get for falling in love
Now I'm addicted and your kiss is the drug
Your love is like bad madicine
Bad medicine is what I need
Shake it up, just like bad madicine
Your love's the potion that can cure my disease
.

And if there's something better, well, they haven't found it yet.

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