Wednesday, 07/17/02 - 4:28 pm.
I came home kind of disappointed, because my dad didn't find any CD I asked him to look for (The Strokes, The White Stripes, The Hives or Aerosmith's Ultimate Hits). The hope of finding any of them in my room when I got home was pretty much what got me through the day.
Instead, I came home and dad gave me some crappy cookies with marshmallows. They're too sweet. But thanks, I appreciate the gesture, specially now that there are three kids in this house (my two nephews and my niece) and I'm being kind of neglected. I mean...I'm not exactly a daddy's little girl, but lately some details have been popping in here and there...for example, my parental units always get me chocolate milk and this time they did buy, but didn't think of me, just of the three of them. It's not like I'm pissed off about it, but, you know...they forgot about you.
It was 2:00 a.m. and I was up, with my nose completely stuffed and a deep sorethroat. I inhaled Vick for a long time, and when I woke up I found out the essence of it had faded out. I inhaled too much. But my nose wasn't that stuffed by 5:00 a.m.
For the first time in...some time, it's been cloudy. It hasn't rained, but it is cloudy and that's enough. Well, it is raining right now and I got wet because I went to check on the parrot. Huh.
Have you ever felt like you don't want to feel anything? That happened to me today. Not even stoicism. Nothing. I had emotional laziness that -I believe- came from my flu. I wanted to be moodless.
At the same time, I felt very vulnerable. Having no feelings at all would make me "adopt" the first feeling that came accross me. And guess what it was? Anger. I saw Veronica and that alone pissed me off.
No, really...I don't want to feel anything...knock it off, we (the voices and I) kept saying. It was a confusing mix of feelings. A struggle to keep a fuck it all attitude.
I was also trying to stay away from Denv. You see, the next feeling that took over was love...not exactly love, but a necessity of being with him. While I was trying to be emotionally empty by running away from everything, some part of me kept making me feel I shouldn't deny feelings. The hell with you, I thought. So I didn't try. We did run into each other on the last recess, but it was just a couple of minutes to hold hands and bite each other. The he left.
I'm spiritually tired.
Lunch time was for myself. Partly because I didn't want to be with anybody, partly because I didn't have anyone to be with. So I just laid down on the floor, next to my classroom doorway.
Early in the morning I was thinking about Cel...I believe she's my best friend. Yet we're not together like "best friends" usually are. But I like that. With Veronica (and I guess with the rest of my "best friends") I had to be with them all the time and viceversa. Cel and I are barely together, but somehow she's always there when I need someone. It's almost magical. Always looking out for me and shit.
So I was laying on the floor and Sophie approached. Then Cel did. I started coughing. The kind of coughing I love. Some dry coughing, that seems to be an echo coming from your lungs.
Because of the coughing, my afternoon picked up. My goal is to spit blood out. I haven't. But it'd be interesting. I want to die of pneumonia.
People worried about my coughing, which was a bonus. I kind of love being this sick. Not because of the social concern, I just like sutile self-destruction. As soon as my nose is not stuffed, my throat can sore as much as it wants. You know, when your coughing is disappearing, if you smoke, your phlemg goes away quickly, Vic said. He keeps saying he wants "one of me" for his house. With sickness, it seems I become a bit more ironic and funny (if I happen to be either of those)....and my voice sounds sexy (*Simeon lifts eyebrow*). No, the voices in my head sound the same.
I smashed my head against the wall, mostly because I was tired of keeping it on my shoulders and I wanted it to let my neck rest. I wanted to remove my head. Vic asked if something was wrong. It kind of was...at that point of the morning, I had my "to feel or not to feel" conflict. In the afternoon, from a couple of hallways away, we heard Santana playing. I drew six lines accross my arm, so he could pretend he was playing guitar. It looked pretty. Pretty, pretty. He grabbed my arm and I drew the "strings".
Honestly, I want to stop feeling for a while. I'm very lazy. It must be because of the flu but my feelings want to slack off.
I don't know if I'll log in tonight to find Denv and his daily countdown, I'm still confused...I guess I should stop chasing him, even if it's in a sutile way. I mean....knock it off, dammit. Fighting for lost causes gets tiresome after a while.
Some voice inside of me keeps repeating Make it bleed to death. I want to rest.
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