Saturday, 03/13/04 - 11:44 am.
I'm going to a march today. It's supposed to be the celebration of the left wing's victory next sunday, when it's the election for president (I don't know it the left wing will be elected, but I keep the faith).
It's going to last all afternoon, and you know how lazy I am. but one has to be coherent with the revolution, doesn't one? It's always good to show support.
And aside from being lazy, I am paranoid and scared. In the 80s, as well as in the 70s, and the 60s, and the 50s, and the 40s and the 30s (not in the 20s and earlier, because the peasants were too afraid), whenever there was a march or a protest, the government sent the National Guard, and so by the end of the day there were hundreds of corpses lying on the streets, and all over the cathedral stairs. And no one said a word, unless there was another protest to protest for the massacre, and that ended up with corpses, too.
Those things are not supposed to happen these days, but I'm still afraid of running into fanatics of the right wing, because that means getting stoned and such.
But I'm going anyway, it's "the cause". Besides, most likely, nothing bad will happen. We'll walk for hours all around the city, thousands of us (20,000 of voters are expected to show up) and then we'll get somewhere to listen to speeches about oppression and neoliberalism.
Yes, it's going to be good.
As for the way I was feeling yesterday...yeah, I feel a little better now. Psychology is great, and it keeps me entertained. It's like a mirror sometimes...just this morning I was reading something from Freud (Sigmund, not my fish), about the aggression of the self, as a way to take out the anger and such. It even said something about depression being related to anger...It's terribly accurate.
Speaking of psychology, I had to be earlier at the UCA yesterday, to buy some books. Guess who I found around? Well, no...I was just sitting around and he happened to be walking by. Why, it was D.
I thought he'd do what he always does..."hi, how are you, bla, bla, bla, see ya around". But no. He actually sat on the bench with me. But with my backpack as a barrier between us. I think very well when I sit on a bench, I want no one next to me, so I sit on the bench that's next to the wall (actually, the backpack between us was a lucky strike).
The conversation was stupid, but I, for some strange reason not related to romanticism, wanted to keep it going. I mean, what do I care about Morpheus' modern glasses, anyway?
I suppose we were starting to bond again (nah, not really), when suddenly this girl, Astrid (also from the ESJ) came up to us. She was from the group of girls who were always, shall I say, manipulating D and other boys as puppets, dragging them about at their own will.
I thought it was very logical of the situation, for her to come by, because D was there. I said to myself, "self, what else was to be expected?". I just didn't like what she did...she came, apparently she'd found us "by any chance", and she greeted us, but then she pulled D's sleeve and said "hurryhurrylet'sgo".
And I didn't like that. It sounded to me like she wanted to get out of there (there, the situation, the place)...AND to drag D with her. It sounded like she didn't want him near me. In my head I thought of telling her don't worry, he rejected me and got my psyque (I love that word) trampled on two years ago, there's no chance for me, he's all yours.
Or maybe she just wanted a ride. Or maybe they were already set up to meet. I don't know, what do I care?
So she walked away. And triumphantly took him with her. I saw them walk away, and I kind of cursed the wristband covering the wounds of last night. You know why I wanted him to see them? Because I knew he wouldn't have said a word...not like Oh, God, *MyName*, what have you done to yourself?! or such. I know it's not good to show those things to the world, whoever it is...I guess I wanted him to still care about me. To worry about me. When we were very close, there were few moments in which he showed genuine concern about me, but those moments meant the Big-Bang to me (and of course, hours later, when he acted like I wasn't there made me crumble to no end).
Then I saw other friends from school: Veronica, Cory (I used to talk about Cory in the first months of this diary, I had a slight crush on him...those were pre-TheGuy days, so it's a long, long time ago). People kept coming up to me, "hi, how you doing? how's class? nice to see you".
And then...people stopped coming up to me. And I came back to the first encounter, D. And aside from feeling empty, I started to feel lonely (it's been weeks since I felt lonely). I strongly wished D came back and sat on the bench again, to talk about Matrix sunglasses. I needed the familiar emptiness you get off someone who was once your friend, in a certain way, who you loved very much, and ended up hurting you. I suppose I needed him. Just to be there, even if my head was being hammered with the certainty that we could never be a third of what we once were.
Luckily, I found Victoria later on, and she made me forget about those things. And the rest was just the usual life of mine at the UCA. Attending class, laughing, being motivated, getting bored, making plans...
Well, bye. I need to go get in gear for this afternoon. If I don't update again I probably got shot by the National Guard (yeah, ok, they don't exist anymore, but the evil of their way lies within the false promise of democracy).
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