December 9 (or: Why wouldn't I just write in my journal?)

All day:
I sat around.

I Felt like...

(I was i in a dream)

My dad asked me during dinner why I didn't come out to help them with the baby.

(What is it with people assuming I know when they want help?)

they never talk to me, my family.

When I talk to them they get this look like they are judging my words,

or they tune out.

It's surprising that they still find the fact that I don't talk to them surprising.

I was supposed to be doing homework.

I'm supposed to be finding a job.

All I really want to do is sleep.

Dream.

Be unconscious until basically all of this blows over:

(By 'all of this' I mean life.)

Hiber-Nation.

Rhodes never wrote me back.

Genii never called again. Or wrote back.

Life is just full (fucking stuffed!) with disappointments.

Like a turkey.

Can you taste the Bull Shit?

(Devren found me on myspace. The sickening part is, he actually tried to add me as a friend. This is hilarious because I spend most of my time denying his existence. When I see him, which is rare, it's a huge, upsetting shock. I start to feel sick. My palms sweat. I want to break his nose. I want to go and vomit on him. I feel the same way whenever my step mother claps in delight and speaks in a 'baby' voice.
I feel like vomiting a lot. I think I am disgusted by people.)

Already I can taste the bile.

Already I feel tight, right around the solar plexus. When I describe feeling "coiled" this is how I feel.

I doubt strongly that anyone else feels this way. I feel tightly wound, I feel like I'm going to scream, rant, rage.

I feel like leaving.

It's sort of that feeling of anticipation, mixed with anxiety, mixed with a growing sense of Frustration and Panic. A growing sense that I Need to Get the Fuck OUT.

I like this song, "Western Eyes" by Portishead

Portishead is not new.

Nothing is new.

The school therapist suggests an Antidepressant.

At first, this gave me hope, because I was thinking the same thing.

Now...
Right now,

Not so much. I'm thinking: no, I am just depressed because I am being smothered by Humanity. by Suffering.

By those great concepts that entail "EXISTENCE"

I believe, in german, they call it ANGST.

The funny thing is, most people who make fun of Angst...

probably never looked up the definition.

I'm obsessed with looking things up.

With words.

With definitions.

With lines, and borders, and boundaries.

Keep things In, or Out.

I remember, Aaron, "saying",

"Somewhere between the lines she's written, You're There. You're in there."

You are.