Monday, 04/11/05 - 8:41 pm.
I don't think I mentioned here the bump in my head. I got it the day Joseph and I went to the mall. I got it at his house, actually. He pushed me to his bed, and I hit the back of my head with a concrete edge that sticks out from the wall. I felt like I'd opened my cranium, it really hurt, and Joseph only said, I knew you'd hit your head! (it sounded like he did it on purpose), and you're such a crybaby. I must admit I never learned a proper answer to protect myself from "you're a crybaby".
I bring this up, first because I'd forgotten to, and second, because it's hurting right now. It's like a small headache, or like it's swollen, or like it's bleeding. Lord, I have a heartache at the back of my head.
You know what happened to Stuart Sutcliffe? He played bass guitar with The Beatles, and when they were in Hamburg, some guys beat the crap out of him. They were kicking him and punching him, in the head among other places, and as a result, he got migraines. He died at 21, of complications. And you know what else? The perspective is kind appealing to me. I'm always scared of injuring my head, but what a better way to die than because of a head injury your ex-boyfriend caused you? Screw my "dying at 27" idea. I want to die at 21.
My brother, my Experimental Psychology professor as well, is sick, so there was no class today. I only had one class, at 5:30, but I was in the campus since three o'clock.
When I was broken-hearted because of D, in high school, I'd go and buy an eraser to make myself feel better (what the fuck?). It probably didn't happen more than once, but I remember it as a nursing-heart routine. So I went and bought an eraser today. Then I went to the library to return a book, because I already finished an essay, and turned it in today (didn't think I would).
Capuccino. Afterwards I went to buy myself a cold capuccino. At the same time, my mind was racing, not for Joseph (*sobs* Joseph!), but because I'm trying to write a story for another international contest. I came up with something I liked, I hope I can work on it soon.
I walked around campus, and when I walked by the cafeteria, this guy I met through Joseph, H, called me: you should smile, you look so pretty when you smile. I looked up (he was in some sort of balcony). It looks like you haven't slept. I tilted my head. And it looks like you've been crying. I secretly said "thank you for noticing". I didn't understand what he said, something about "something" not being worth it. I don't know..., I said, looking down. He sent me a kiss with two of his fingers, and said feel better.
I sat on a step, in the emergency ladder of building A. When the sun came down a little, I went to "my spot", not far away from there. Joseph's best friend approached. It's a good thing, I was kind of scared he'd stop talking to me. He said he was going to the restrooms. How are you?, he asked. I looked down, and I don't know if it was my face, or his bladder emergency, but he said he had to get going.
People say that when a significant chapter of your life ends, you make changes, something like "out with the old and in with the new". You get a haircut or dye the hair, I don't know. I don't want a haircut, and I'm not in the mood to dye my hair. So I only braided it. I hadn't done it since school.
On my way home, I looked at the volcano, and I got really scared. I told my dad the volcano was erupting, because its peak, and part of the horizon line were bright orange. Stupid me, a volcano doesn't erupt so suddenly (there was just a small tremor, oh, no, OMG!), and so quietly. It's just a HUGE fire that'll probably eat the remaining 2% of the trees nationwide.