Friday, 06/21/02 - 6:05 pm.
40 out of 109. I took a look at a certain document I had in my computer, which contains the name, birthday, e-mail and phone numbers of each and every student from the class of 2002. I studied it carefully and I underlined the names of the people I wanted to stay in touch with after school is over. More specifically, people I like a lot and I wish I could stay in touch with, although I'm quite sure that within one or two years I'll only e-mail sporadically less than a dozen people.
I sort of regret saving Wires. At times I wish I'd have let him die. I try to make him fly but he just can't. Even if he could, I guess he wouldn't last out there. First off, he can't even cling to branches. His claw is totally useless. He doesn't even want to learn to eat by himself. Mom says we're gonna have to buy a cage for him. I don't want to have him in a cage. I don't know if it was good to take care of him, maybe I should've let him die. I just took him out to the garden and I tried to make him fly. No such luck. He can barely walk. He doesn't have the strenght he needs to spread his wings, I doubt he ever will. But he's very sweet, he looks like a tiny duck.
Today is practically my last day of freedom. Time goes much faster than the usual when I have a vacation like this one. I don't want to go back to school. But today I feel I'm choking inside the house. I'm sick of this place, and the wheather is quite hot, and I feel even more uncomfortable. Mom keeps asking me if I want to go out. HELL, YES! But the truth is I don't know where to go. I don't have a place to go. I frankly don't want to go out. But I do. I'm having serious claustrophobia. I decided take Frog out for a walk. If there's a flaw in our dog-dog's owner relationship it's my awful laziness of taking her out for walks. I never do. She gets so damn happy when she sees me walk up to get her leash. Not even that, even before I start walking she just...knows. And starts jumping, and running, she gets all excited. But because she's not very used to walk, she gets tired easily. But she does enjoy it. And today, since I was feeling sorry for myself and my self-imprisonment, I thought that I should take her out....poor girl. Her life is less exciting than mine. She's also lazier than I am.
Dear God...Steven Tyler will play Santa Claus on Lizzie Mcguire's show.
And so...here I am, not wanting to be here, but not having a clue where to go. The movies? the ice cream parlor? No. I don't want to go back to my room, but neither have I something to do outside of it. Call friends? What friends? To say what? Play The Sims? Ugh, no! I'd stay in front of the computer like a rotten vegetable. It's desperating. I think of places to go to, now that my parents are willing to take me. But no...there's no real place I'd like to be at.
Just lately I've been thinking that maybe what I need in a person is to understand my silence. I know that in this diary here I talk and talk and talk and blah, blah, blah, but in the real world, I practically don't say a word. The main reason is that that's part of my personality (there are several reasons, besides that one, of course). Some say silence is the loudest scream. Silence is my way to scream, I just haven't found another, but no one gets it. No one understands, no one listens....I wish I found a "less loud" way, but I can't. Even more, I wish I found someone who was capable to listen to it and actually understand it. I should be more open with people, I've been told that ("you're just expecting people to come running to you, why don't you just talk some more?") but whenever I try...it just doesn't work. I'm ignored...not exactly "ignored" but people don't quite mind if I'm there or not.
Last night I watched The White Stripes' performance at the Mtv Movie Awards. I really like him. Ok, not exactly "him"...I like the way of his hair. It's kind of like I want some "a la Steven Tyler guy" but not Steven Tyler, as I'm a grown girl and I have enough common sense. Same with Jack White, I just happen to like the way he "combs" his hair. I don't have any parameters for my man (if there's ever gonna exist such thing in my life) but I'd love it if his hair fell on the face (which is very unlikely), kind of the way mine does. Ugh, enough of delusions.....Getting back to The White Stripes, I do like The White Stripes. Or I'm intended to like them. I don't own any album yet (so maybe I wouldn't still call myself a fan, as I've only heard a few tunes) but I'm dying to get one. Besides Aerosmith, I love The White Stripes, The Strokes and The Hives. No more. Of course, Aerosmith is my #1 band...and the #2, #3, #4.....etc. By the way....Happy birthday, Joey!!!.
I'm terribly sorry to finish this entry. Because that means time's moving forward. Suddenly, it'll be saturday morning...then saturday night...before you know it, I'll be looking out the car pool window on monday morning, wondering where all this time went to, and bitching about getting back to school and get myself lost in a crowd of strangers. That's a different kind of claustrophobia.
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