How nice not.
Monday, 07/22/02 - 8:55 pm.

Well, Aerosmith is not up for a single award at the VMAs. The Strokes and The Hives are on the same category, and The White Stripes are on another.

Speaking of them, I once again went out to look for any of those CDs and dammit, I can't fuckin' find them.

Um, well...my day...was pretty ok. I had this weird mixing of feelings, between angry and content, so in the end, I ended up...normal, I guess.

First thing in the morning, Hector called me to his office. The system wants to talk to me, I told Vic. He wondered why. I walked in Hector's office and he just gave me the pics back. I must say, I was kind of disappointed. I expected something more exciting, like being called down for something. But no, just a dumb: I guess this was enough for you to learn the lesson. So instead of kicking and defending myself, I left the office practically kissing his ass, thanking him for giving them back.

My life is too easy.

Cel gave me a letter written in recycled paper, just saying hi. She called me tonight. And last night. And the night before. She said she's trying to be constant. She said she wants to do something new everyday. She's my best friend. It's been years since I dared to call someone that, but she is. We're not together on every recess, in fact, we just say hi to each other, but there's some connection, something that lets us click so well. We talk about things we know we wouldn't be able to talk about with any other people.

Everytime I'd get mad, was because Veronica was around. How can such...thing cause such an effect on me? Honestly, that should stop. Sometimes I think she's the devil (my devil, anyway), but then I think that's giving her way too much credit. Rewinding everything though, it seems all I am now it's because of her. It's because of her fucked-up behavior towards me. And I hate that, I hate owing her something.

Today I was supposed to stay at school in the afternoon to work with the whole pastoral/social service group on some crap. I did not. Because I did not want to. Instead, I came back home and went out with Renan, Rebeca, Javier and my parental units. We went to a bookstore. We all bought at least one book and ate some snacks.

Renan and Rebeca are leaving this sunday. I'm pissed off at myself, I feel I have been so caught up in such crap lately that I haven't paid the attention they deserve. That's part of why I decided to defy the system and not work with pastoral this afternoon. Fuck them all. I had to spend time with my nephews and niece. Renan asked me why I looked sad. I can't believe he noticed. I'm not sad, I'm just concerned about school...I'm happy!. Really, I am. Happiness in me is not a mood, is an attitude. Of course I am sad for all that's been going on lately but I too have reasons to be happy. You know? Seeing him breaks my heart. Javier and Rebeca played with each other, while Renan just sat and played by himself with Legos. I see myself reflected in him (I too played with little dolls instead of with other kids), but I hope to God he'll know how to handle all the crap people like us (quiet, timid, somewhat repressed) go through.

Carmen approached to me this morning. She always starts out her conversation with something "funny" that has just happened to her. After that, she proceeded to ask me how are you?...it took me one second to think about the question, and another one to decide not to tell anything, because I knew what to expect. Sure enough, by second three, she opened her mouth again and said as she scratched her shoulder: damn, I'm such a masoquist, you know?.... blah, blah, blah. What happened? you still have tongue, dontcha?. I stuck out my tongue. Funny you ask, as you really don't care for the answer.

I'd been so pissed off I scratched my wrists with some piece of coal I found. I wanted to see it bleed. I was all alone (it was the third recess), so I could do it. But out of nothing, Patch appeared. He noticed and tried to stop me (no, I wasn't going to kill myself right then). He showed me his own wrists. He has scars on it. I tried to kill myself in 8th grade. We agreed that it's just a few people who make your life worth.

Today I had this thought of walking in the middle of the hallways and shooting myself right there. Kind of a free sample of how social psychological violence affects individuals. I was thinking about it on the school bus. I almost started crying. Maybe it's a lame self-pity feeling or just the terrible thought of seeing my family suffer because of me, wondering what they did wrong and blaming themselves (when actually, they've been quite the opposite). Thinking of my family (specially of the three kids) crying over me sends chills down my spine. You hurt the most the ones you love the most, according to Vic. I don't doubt it. But I hope I'll never hurt them. Not my family.

Actually...sometimes I do doubt it. I don't think Veronica hurts me because she "loves" me. I kind of think she hates me for....I don't know, something. There's always a reason to hate.

Denv did notice I didn't log into the messenger the whole weekend. I logged in today just to see how the countdown was doing, but it's still 7 days left, he hasn't changed it. It's maybe 5, 4, 3 days left by now though. I don't know, I got lost.

I saw him a few times today at school, and although at first I felt some kind of sting in my heart, then I moved on and when I was at the girls' room, I thought of the advantages of not being emotionally tied to someone who's not emotionally tied to you. Norman told me that Denv mentioned to him I hadn't logged in. And that's cute. But no more. Thanks for noticing I'm absent. It's not like he needs me, so it's not like I need him. He can (he did) say I'm an "unfaithful wife" that leaves him hanging at night -on the messenger, he meant- and shit, but he's not exactly a loyal husband either. I sometimes log on, but just to see who's on. I really don't have anything to say, unless you'd count "hi, nice to see you're around. Ok, bye".

On the last recess, I was sitting on the hallway floor and Veronica walked by. I felt the urge to jump on her and smash her head against the green pole nearby and then punch her face. Of course I didn't. Later on, I was all by myself in the classroom and thought it'd be nice if I had a gun and could shoot myself right then. You are one fucked up individual, a voice in my head said. I'd never told that to myself (or "I'd never been told that by myself" for that matter). I hate it when people tell that to themselves, because they always do it in public, with the only purpose to call the attention and praise themselves trying to say: "hi, I'm special because I suck and you don't".

Sometimes I imagine how easy it'd be for me to shoot people when they're asleep. I pictured everyone who walked in front of me asleep. And I wouldn't be affected if I shot them in the head at that moment, when they're asleep, because they wouldn't suffer. Yeah, well...chances are, if I'm ever given the chance to do such thing, I'd definitely chicken out.

Tomorrow I'm going to the theater. I mean, me and 109 more people.

I am less than amused.

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