Saturday, 03/08/03 - 7:56 pm.
It's days like today when I realize how depressive my life is, and how lame of a person I am.
I was bored out of my mind. I wished I wasn't home, I thought that I'd like to be somewhere else. Then Veronica invites me to the movies along with Rod, Norman and Adri. At first I say "yes", as usual, and then I make up and excuse at the last second, as usual.
See, the problem is my weak personality. I don't like being here because I get bored out of my mind. But when I think of going out, there's no place at my reach that I'd like to be at. There's no person I'd like to be with either.
I need to get away from myself. Yes, that's what I need. Because sometimes I think of change, but 50% of myself doesn't care for it and rejects it, while the other 50% longs for it.
DAMN FUCKIN' dilemmas. Some will tell you that in life you only have to walk through the road that's already paved for you (fate), while some others say you pave the road as you walk through it. I don't know what to believe, so while I struggle for making up my mind, I'm wasting my life lying on the floor, getting depressed (bored-depressed) but at the same time happy about the fact that I didn't go out with my friends.
That's the only solution. Be somebody else. But then...here comes the 50% that doesn't want to change.
A personality like mine is a terrible flaw in life. People like me don't make it to birth, they're natural miscarriages. It's the Darwinian law. The strongest survives. Something must've gone wrong that made me born, mustn't it?
Speaking of which, I was thinking of darwinian stuff (mostly about evolving in order to survive) at the UCA while walking to the cafeteria yesterday. Where, by the way, I had dinner all by myself -thankyouLord- because I managed to get lost from my friends.
I'm such a bitch.
My period arrived yesterday. Or today. I'm not sure. I was getting cramps since yesterday morning, and I was afraid I'd feel like a disgrace in the middle of class. But luckily, it seems my body is getting used to keep itself together until I'm in a safe place (home) to get the most painful cramps. I didn't get painful cramps, which is happier news. But I said I was getting them so I could sneak out of Veronica's friendly, nice plans.
Because I'm such a bitch.
Something nice happened to me yesterday on the way to the UCA. My dad and I stopped at my favorite bookstore (err, the only one I know). He was picking up his paycheck (because that bookstore is selling his book) and he told me I could buy a book. I knew exactly what I wanted, so I ran to that shelf, and there it....he was.
But when I picked it up, a strange, dressed-up mister asked me if I studied at the UCA. He introduced himself (I can't remember his name) and said we were taking Anthropological Philosophy together (how could I notice, we're almost a hundred students in the classroom). He is the weirdest geek I've ever met. No offense, but...he's the typical nerd. Well combed hair, glasses, tall, thin...I kept an eye on him during classes, which wasn't hard at all, because he's the typical nerd raising his hand after every sentence of the professor, coming up with informative comments that in the end just make him sound pretensious because they don't add anything new to the class. The kind of "hi, I know it all, listen to me" comments. And he dresses like a heavy metal fan. He's weird.
AND he works at the bookstore. That's kind of sad because I don't want to run into him. He's the kind of person you're afraid to say a word to because you just know he'll label you as below his own level. But I know I'm gonna run into him again, because I have to get another book by...him.
Oh, yeah. The book I picked up. Sorry, I went on a tangent.
I knew exactly what I wanted, so I ran to that shelf, and there it....he was. John Lennon In His Own Write. Beautiful, beautiful. Graciously overpriced, too. But my dad said afterwards when telling my brother Alan: "I just couldn't say no to her. When it comes to books, it's always an investment".
My dad finds hard to say no to me when I ask for something. This makes me feel guilty at times, I'm the kind of person who RARELY takes advantages of daddy's money, so I'm always refraining. Next John's book on my list ("a spaniard in the works") is less expensive, so that's a relief.
About the book...Good Lord, I died laughing. He's a genius. Unbelievable how someone can come up with such funny crap, whether it makes sense or not. All of a southern....
It was comforting to think John was in my backpack. I carried the book around the UCA, and I could not wait 'til night when I'd get home and I'd start reading it. I knew he was going to be with me during the roughest times of my womanhood (at night I was having cramps...not the worst, but they weren't pleasant either). Yes, it was really comforting.
I thought I'd like to write a book like that one. Then I laughed at the idea. But isn't that what one does to one's own work? Hey, at least I didn't cry. So yeah, I still want to write a book like that, with drawings and deep non-sense.
And then I think....I already have (in no way at John's level, of course...God forbid I dare to compare myself to his almighty writing). I just have to polish it a bit. Make it less worse. I looked up in Simeon's box (in which I keep all of my Simeon comics -notebooks and stuff- since 1995) and I found some things that could seem influenced by "In His Own Write", although I wrote them several years ago. "The Fat Growth On Eric Hearble" sounds a bit like the things I'd write (again, I'm not comparing).
So I have another project in my hands. Simeon and I got to the conclusion that I really have no talent for comic strips. I'm not saying I've given up for good, but I think I'm more capable of writing and drawing non-sense than comic strip stories (although in my case that's pretty much the same, which is kind of sad, isn't? -this thing of asking at the end of the sentence it's getting part of my language-).
Well, I have to go eat. There's no one home and I'm listening to all of The Beatles albums, in chronological order (just two or three songs from each album because I obviously wouldn't finish tonight if I listened to the whole thing). I prefer the company of music rather than people's.
You know what's funny? If I shake my head, the left side of my head hurts. How fun.
Now that I think about it, I'd like to be like John Lennon. In some ways, you know.
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