Perhaps a response to yesterday's doubts (+ The Beatles)
Sunday, 01/12/03 - 1:58 pm.

- Mike: I told my friend to wait for me in the car for a couple of minutes, because I'd forgotten some stuff in my locker.
I rushed in, got my stuff, and came back to the car, it was just a couple of minutes...but what I saw when I came back was a bus that had just hit his car

His best friend died.

And Mikey is blaming himself. I really don't know what to tell him. There's nothing I can tell him to make him feel better.

He's lost so many people in his life it's even ridiculous. He lost a lot of friends in the january 13th 2001 earthquake, his former girlfriend (broke up because she went to Argentina) was raped and killed, he's lost maybe 2 best friends...

- Mike: I've lost so many of my friends....Don't you go anywhere, my friend. I couldn't stand another loss.
- Me: I will never die, dude.

Killing myself is out of the question.

- Me: Above all, thank God you're still here, Mikey.


Last night was pretty strange, there was no one online. Later on though, Victor logged in, and we talked for maybe two hours, about music.

I love his knowledge on the subject, he's one of the few people you can talk about rock music (real rock music). We talked mostly about the grunge scene and the early-middle 90s music in general: Nirvana, Guns 'n' Roses, Pearl Jam, Green Day, 4 Non Blondes...and of course, Aerosmith. From Eddie Vedder to Lenny Kravitz, from 4 Non Blondes' "What's up" to Aerosmith's Revolution X was fun. His taste in music is awesome.

Victor: I do hate "Girls Of Summer" though.

Enough said.


I talked to D, too. But this wasn't any of those lame conversations that leave me feeling like crap and cutting myself. It was very uplifting, actually.

Perhaps because we actually talked. We didn't stop talking (I tend to think his list was lacking of online contacts, as mine was -it was 11:05 pm and Victor had gone offline already-). He said he wants to learn german and...well, etc. We were mostly rambling (like we usually do), but it was fun.

It's stupid, but what actually made me feel good was that I said goodbye first. Duty calls, I say. Duty?, he asks. I logged out. I meant "cutting", but you know what? I didn't need that. I was laughing out loud (in my mind, otherwise I'd have interrupted my parental units' sleep).

I thought of doing it before I went to bed, but for some reason, I was hyperactive. I was talking to myself (is it normal to hear voices in your head and answering them out loud?), in front of the mirror, jumping around my bedroom...I don't know what was wrong with me, but I liked being this "wrong". I didn't feel like cleaning up blood. I didn't feel like cutting, I was hyper. I didn't need that. I wanted to shoot spiderweb like Simeon, and walk up the walls.

Simeon: I think it's called manic-depressant.

Maybe part of me was really hit by Mikey's tragedy. Maybe part of me told me: listen, God says, and I quote: "stupid bitch, don't you realize?"

Yes, I do realize. Thank You, God. I'm really sorry.


I did grab scissors this morning. But to cut my hair. I laughed my ass off. It's nothing you can really notice, but I do. I have a hard time making up my mind, whether I like it long or short. So it's both now *evil laugh*


Yesterday's Beatles pic made me dream of them (I guess that's why I dreamed of them). It was a weird dream, I WAS GOING TO SEE THE BEATLES LIVE!!! Without John. But with George.

It was my mom, my sister, his son and me. We had front row seats ($5.32 each...I remember the price!). But it turned out those weren't front row. I actually couldn't see a damn thing.

The concert started and there wasn't more than 60 people. So we moved to first row. They didn't sing Beatles' song. I sang was very stupid, because "The Beatles" asked the crowd to sing along, and I was the only one singing, no one else knew the lyrics. I didn't either, I was just babbling. But "The Beatles" were (are) my idols, and I had to do it.

They got out of the venue (it was more like a movie theater), and people were following them, singing along now to whatever music they were playing. I think it was Country. I mean, there were 6 "BEATLES" ONSTAGE, for Christ's sake.

No one looked like Paul. They all seemed to come from the geriatric hospital (I mean, so does Paul now, but he doesn't look like the old man in Toy Story II -I can't remember his name, but it's the toy that never got out of the box...excuse my memory-).

The concert finished, and "Ringo" sat next to me. (he too looked like the Toy Story II old man) We talked. He said something about John.

And then I woke up.

(I'm dreaming weird shit lately)

In my dream, they were The Beatles, but after waking up, I thought everything was very lame. Starting from the seats.

I almost shed a tear, because my impossible dream is to see The Beatles in concert (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA).

Speaking of which, Ringo Starr is unbelievably cute (*melts*).

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