Saturday, December 15, 2001

"Silent All These Years" should never have been a dance song in my opinion, and it's come to my attention that the thing that's bothering me most right now is how much I miss Jeremey, and still need him, and still love him, and how he reciporcates none of that.

"And for the million hours that we were
Well I'll smile and remember it all...
Then I'll turn and go.
I'm on a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why?"

I want to be writing something beautiful in all of this, but I don't know where to start anymore and that's perhaps why I've turned here. I don't give a god-damn what any of you see, you voyeuristic fucks. I'm not really angry enough to have written that....or perhaps I'm too angry to confine it to that.

I feel like just sitting here thoughtlessly scrutinizing each spot in the air as I listen to my depressing music playlist and letting my voice waver as I sing over lines with meaning I didn't realize before, but a certain someone that I do NOT want to be talking to about her issues- not because I mind talking to people about their issues, but because of who she is and who her issues involves- is talking to me about her issues...and thus ruining my tranquil bnrooding over past pain with anxiety of an oncoming horror.

"Love is not some kind of victory march
It's a cold, and it's a very broken

....ugh, now I'm getting fucked over. I just wanted to sit here and love him in the middle of the silent night, and let sincere tears fall down my cheeks unheard, but no, now I have to get all fucking pissed over HER and her raping every single aspect of my life. Sometimes I just hope she fucking burns in hell.

I've gotten too used to seeing Jeff twice a weekend- he's not in school, so I'll see him soon, but I'm not going to see him tomorrow and this isn't something I seem to be readily processing.

Em's coming over so I can kavetch in person, so I'm gone. It's good to have her around for a while. On with it.