sunday, oct 8 2006
there's nothing i want. there's nothing and no one that i want to know, there's nothing i want to do. i'm completely shut down. when i think about school work, i can't bring myself to do it, because i can't find a good reason. why should i do it...? to graduate, to go to daap, to be a fashion designer, to make money and do something that i love.

but will it really make me happy? will having a good man make me happy? will having stuff make me happy? will anything make me happy?

in times like these, moments like these, days or weeks or months like these, i can't think of anything that could possibly make me happy...

or that matters...this world doesn't matter, war doesn't matter, sex and drugs and death and life and birth and walking and hiding and flying and birds and trees and lemons and kittens and pillows don't matter. they are matter, but they don't matter.

it's just a series of moments -- but what are moments?

what is anything? what is life? what makes us human, are we even real? IS ANYTHING REAL?

does anyone really feel whole or real? is anyone really anything more than i am?

i feel like i used to be a regular m&m, just candy and chocolate, then somehow i decided i was supposed to be a peanut m&m, and i started growing a little bigger and stretching and separating my insides to form a place for that peanut, but didn't ever get the peanut to fill up with. i have my skin, the candy shell, and the chocolate, my emotions and shallow fleeting thoughts, and there should be that hard but soft protein-filled peanut center, i don't know what it is -- meaning, purpose, drive, accomplishment, reason to be, love, depth, art pieces, songs, bands. no...something that's supposed to be in me...i'm supposed to be a peanut m&m i think, but i can't grow that peanut.
a lot of people are just regular m&ms...regular m&ms are the girls and boys and men and women who truly feel content, or who don't care whether or not they're content, they're simple and they live simple and they do what they do and don't worry about whether they should be more nourishing by throwing in that bit of protein-filled peanutty filling, they just live sweet and simple, just dessert, not substance.

but i WANT substance. i NEED substance. in my music, in my movies, in my entertainment and my life...but i just have none...

i feel like i'm just a copy, a series of recycled sayings and reused ideas, unoriginal-or rather, not originated from within but solely from without.
i've never done anything, i have no old friends, no loyalty and no faith. no core...no self...and i don't know how to make a self. all i can do is attach to those who HAVE a self, and feed off of their purpose and their energy...










i have no life. i have no desire. i have no passion in these times, nothing.
i didn't care when the world trade center went down. i knew it didn't matter. it's happened before, it's happened all over the world. it wasn't special or significant in the big picture -- buildings get destroyed, people get destroyed, jobs and families and mountains and rivers all get destroyed...



but i have this little voice that fights with that voice, that tells that voice it's wrong, that everything matters, that yes, buildings blow up all the time, we aren't the only ones that get terrorist hits, you're right to say that. yes, we statistically had it coming, and maybe even kharmically. who knows? but it's as significant as anything else, as significant as i am. i should TRY and i should make something of myself and i should graduate and i should get a job doing something i love, and find someone i love...but on days like these, that voice is very small.

and the other voice is asking why anyone would love ME instead of someone else? what is there? nothing, really...i have no well-founded opinions, no trademark, nothing. i'm nothing. but i'm everything at the same time.

besides that small voice, when i think about those things, i'm not in any position to do those things. i'm stuck. i'm stuck in indiana, i'm stuck in a mind that won't let me want to do my homework and get out of high school, i'm stuck in a desire to crawl back into my childhood where i have no responsibility and no need to worry about the terrorists and a nuclear war and a starving child in africa...because the world i live in has cartoon rats made of white chocolate and snakes with teeth made of rock candy, and i marry swamp thing, who's really a beautifully built black man covered in green cherry cordial...the world i live in is whatever i want it to be, it's passionate and it's exciting and it's scary, but i can wake up any time i want.



i daydream constantly, even at 18, because i don't want to have to go through each day. i don't want to have a normal, casual life...i want to be in my fantastic dreams and i don't want to let them go when i wake up, because i don't get the gorgeous guy, i can't fly, the grass isn't green as emeralds and there aren't any untouched parts of the world, nothing is a mystery, nothing is so vivid...i don't know.


i just don't know.