Saturday, 04/16/05 - 8:11 pm.
This morning a certain couple came to visit my parents. I had to have lunch with them. They're a drag, because their lives are ruled by The Bible. It's all "The Bible says", The Lord this and The Lord that.
Now, I believe in God, and He and I have our conversations...but those people just make me feel annoyed and mad at religion. They never "land", you know? Like, if my parents raised five children against all odds, it's because The Lord made them to. No way, lady. It's because they worked hard. God helped them a great deal, but it was my parents' hard work.
They talk too much. The only thing I enjoyed was listening to my dad talk about his dad. I never met my grandfather (or any grandparent, except for my mom's dad), but from the stories, he was a generous, intelligent man. I don't think I've even seen his picture. He died when my dad was in his early teens. They had it rough. They were mostly invalidated for their lack of money, but my grandfather said he wanted his children to have something other than land and material possetions, something in the head. That way, they'll only lose it if they get their heads cut.
PRAISE THE LORD! As the lady said. What. The. Fuck.
I haven't accomplished anything today, except that I went swimming at seven am. It was hard only because I could fell asleep at 2 am. I can't sleep properly lately. That upsets me, and so I start to think of stuff, and that makes me even more awake.
My dreams have been very vivid. Three nights ago I dreamed I spent a whole day at Joseph's house, and he was even my neighbor...his mom loved me more than he did. The night after I dreamed I was supposed to take a train to a small town in southern Europe. My little brother and my father were with me, and we were lucky because exile tears families apart. When we got to the station, I realized I didn't have the documents with me. And I ran around the corner, to the house of my friend, Veronica. She was on a window, sitting on a pillow, reading a book. I begged her for two hours to please, give me back my passport. I was in tears, terrified of losing the train, my family and my life. But she wouldn't give in. She barely looked at me. Suddenly she seemed to recognize me: "right, your passport". I don't know if I took the train.
After that dream, I had a nightmare. It was a town of evil rag dolls (like the one on the Korn cover, only possessed by the devil), and they all were cutting the heads off humans. I saw them put an old man on his knees and give him the axe. Then a woman, but also they put in front of her the wax doll of a man with a giant penis, so it'd look like she was giving a blowjob while they cut her head off. I think it was supposed to be a music video for a heavy metal band, because the dream ended with a maniatic rag doll ripping itself in two. But I didn't catch the name of the band.
My subconscious suck sometimes.
Sometimes I have this awful idea, or rather doubt, if Joseph was abusive, or it's just me being dramatic. When we were in bed, he'd kind of force me, although never did anything in the end...I once said that'd be rape to him, because he was trying and trying. Then I remember when he'd call me coward, and boring, and the one time he called me stupid. And then I don't miss him so much, but I feel hurt and weak, for not standing up against him.
I suppose he's of a violent nature. Not really an excuse to be "abusive", if what he did to me clasifies as such (probably not), but he was indeed. A man from the streets and all that. And I wonder if he'll find a girl, THE girl for him. It may not be my fault that I wasn't, but I still sometimes hate myself for not being able to be. Because it all comes down that I didn't try hard enough when I had to. I started to, when it was too late.
I thought breaking up on good terms would make it easier for me. But I've only found myself looking back and second-guessing the things that happened. The worst part is that I have the ability to see what happened from my perspective and from Joseph's, and I imagine he would never grant me that he was too harsh on me sometimes.
Why did he treat me like that? He was sick of me, or thought he was great at reverse psychology and that would work with me...I don't know. I really wish I had the chance to talk to him about this, all this. But that's not going to happen. And if it did, for some reason, I see him laughing at me, spitting on me, literally.
Victor says it happens. I mean, thinking all this. You evaluate everything, and sometimes only see the bad, or the good. It's all part of a process, he says. He's been through that many times, the poor thing, so knowing he knows what he's talking about makes me trust him.
The thing is, I think of the bad and, even though I feel all hurt and broken ("he did this and that to me"), I say breaking up was for the best. But then I start thinking of the good thing, and I say I want him back.
He's supposed to start the university next semester, but I can see him chickening out, like he always has.
Right now I'm talking to Victor and Priscilla, and they're making me feel better. Thank God they came online, or else I would've have abandoned this entry being a tearful wreck.
- Me: I like your user picture.
- Victor: there's another one with Jim Carrey's face
- Victor: but instead of "would you erase me?"
- Victor: it says "I'm fine without you".
Sometimes I feel I'm part of Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, only Joseph stays with the idea that he's fine without the memories of me. I don't have any proof to back up that...it's just a feeling. Like many others.
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