She · had · abandoned · herself · to · fate...

"Emotions, in my experience, aren't covered by single words. I don't believe in "sadness," "joy," or "regret." Maybe the best proof that the language is patriarchal is that it oversimplifies feeling. I'd like to have at my disposal complicated hybrid emotions, Germanic train-car constructions like, say, "the happiness that attends disaster." Or: "the disappointment of sleeping with one's fantasy." I'd like to show how "intimations of mortality brought on by aging family members" connects with "the hatred of mirrors that begins in middle age."

-Jeffrey Eugenides

I'm totally prepared to spend Valentines day alone in 2 weeks.

If I'm not lucky enough to have been scheduled to work...I intend to curl up with Mister Pizza and watch my favorite Valentine's Day movie ever: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. And cry. Lots of crying.

Please schedule me to work!

I'm praying to every God there is that my Grandma pulls through.

She's all the family I have. She's both a Mother and a Father to me. I want her to attend my wedding. Babysit my first child. I want her to witness me rising above all of my live's greatest struggles.

It just isn't time yet. I still need you.

Oh and Grandma is going in for surgery Wednesday.

It really forces me to think..what I would do if anything terrible ever happened to her? She's all of the family I really have. I would be devastated.

I am really disappointed in certain friends.

New place, new life...!

I would think that would call for a phone call and/or visit, dinner date, etc. Something to help pass the hours of an ill heart.

Sometimes people are just too immersed in their own happiness, to humble themselves and make time for others. We've all been that person. I've done it too. When I was happy.......was I happy? I think I was happy.

But, it sucks to be on the other end, alone and scared. And when you need me...the way I needed you...

I hate this.
I miss him so much. I love him.I fucking love him.

Love.
Love is never enough. Poetry, cinema, and literature has warped my mind into thinking that it could possible be enough...
But, it never is. Not really.

I'm moving out September 1st to a place on Abbotsford (Off of Forest, near Elmwood). I'm absolutely terrified to: A) Live alone, B) Apply to Pano's down the street, and C) Emotionally distance myself from Matthew.

I'm rearranging my life.
And I'm really fucking terrified.

Can someone just find me a studio apartment...in a semi-decent neighborhood, that allows cats, has laundry hook-ups, off-street parking, and is around 500 or less including utilities?

PLEAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSE!?!?!?!

Too little? Too late?

I'm pretty sure i'm going to find an apartment in Buffalo... And figure out who I am...and where exactly I want to be.

My dad is in the hospital. They thought he had a stroke...but, he has had like eleven of these same episodes where his arm curls up and his left side goes numb. Now they're saying they are more like seizures. He is at Mercy hospital...which is a TERRIBLE hospital. It has been 4 days and they have still made absolutely no diagnosis.
I'm terrified.

Matt and I celebrated our 3 year anniversary 2 days ago. It's been rocky. But, I really do believe that it is imperfection that gives a relationship character. (Obviously to a certain degree) Our love is strong, stubborn, erratic...but, truly beautiful in all of its imperfections. Somehow, despite our differences...we make sense in some strange twisted way. I can't explain it. I love that boy more than life.

I was thinking a lot yesterday about religion. Is there a God? I used to think so. That is I was raised to think so. But, when my Mom got sick when I was 14 I used to scream, cry, and beg God to make things right again. Then she appeared to be getting better...and then it happened all over again. And again I screamed and begged for his divine intervention. It never came. Over time I grew very distant from the concept of God and still to this day consider myself agnostic. Yesterday, however, I was thinking a lot about life after death..what exactly it is we're made of. Are we more than what scientific data has recorded? I mean what differences us from any other animal or organism? I'm not talking intelligence or ability. Then it hit me. Is it love? And then I decided that this was not exactly a human phenomenon. Animals love. I mean look at these two:

So perhaps there is something unaccounted for...something spiritual? Love isn't necessary to our survival. It just is. And why is it?

Something to think about! Feel free to englighten me.

My dad....and his fiance. Yep.

Life changes. If someone asked me when I was 8 years old...how exactly I envisioned my future...I sure wouldn't have guessed all of this.

Matt has been accepted into the University at Buffalo for Media Study.
I'm very proud of him.
I'm at the new apartment on Harlem Road.
He'll probably be meeting me over here when the lease is up at the old apartment...he's doing very well...health insurnace, school, car lined up, hasn't been drinking...He's definitely on the right track.
I feel like I've been drinking too much now! It's like the Olive Garden is turning me into a goddamned alcoholic...They go to Friday's every fucking day after work. I swear. It's fun to be around people...I think that's why I go. I'm lonely. I need to get re-in-touch with old friends. I miss having people I can rely on...and really talk to.
I miss:
Nicole, Andrea, Jackie, and many others.
School & work. School & work. It's all I do.
Atleast I have my books. For always.
I cut all of my hair off...and I love it. It's a new fun cut for the summer...But, right about now I'm just deperate enough for spring. Where are you!?
Matt and I are getting tattoos in two weeks...*Not Matching* No worry. We're just paying for each other's tats for our two year anniversary. I think he's getting me a kitten/cat. I hope so. I love kitties. I got him a very old, vintage, Super 8 Video Camera...It was purchased during the 70s. I found it on ebay...he'll love it.
Tootles.

I'm an absolute wreck. I wish someone or something would put me out of my own damn misery, because I certaintly don't have the courage to. Things with Matt and I have been on the rocks, I'm positively moving into a new apartment in May. I don't know if him and I will be over, because I don't know how living apart is going to affect the two of us. I do know that living alone is something I deeply fear. I also know that not having anyone to fall asleep next to, and wake up along side of, is going to be one of the hardest adjustments. And today I received a letter from my Mother in the mail. Inside, she has given me a tops gift card for 25 dollars. It's a gift card that her social worker had given *her* for groceries. Since I've opened it I have been crying incessantly. It's an odd feeling to explain, but I'm sure some of you will understand the sadness its evoked. Especially...if you had known my mother, or know of her present circumstances. I just want to curl up and die. Everythings so wrong. I feel like I'm not strong enough to get over the past, and that I'm certaintly not strong enough to deal with what the future is sure to bring. I remember when people used to tell me that what I had gone through as a child would make me into a much stronger person. Lies. The truth is I was never strong enough to cope with all that has already been. And so I still haven't. It has only created an individual too weak to take on common disaster. I find myself praying to every damn God to end this suffering...because I can't take anymore. I don't want a future, I want to tie up the loose ends and lay to rest.
I'm exhausted with life.
My heart has eyes. Eyes too big. And it just can't seem to understand ...that...I'm....tired.

How can two people who love each other more than anything destroy the only means to each other’s happiness? How is it possible…that love isn’t enough? Love is just the foreground to establishing a seemingly functional relationship. And it seems as though no matter how much love actually exists between two people…love will never conquer all. It’s not possible. The best image to depict this sentimental trope would probably be Cupid handing someone a shovel and saying, “Here dig your own damn hole”. It’s just another expectation derived from the ignorance of humanity to satisfy some sort of social quota. A quota that cannot be reached by any means or measures. Fuck love. Fuck Cupid. Fuck the damn shovel.

Why is it that...after a year and a half...
I still cry when Matt leaves for work...because I miss him so much.

This time of night I could call you up
I'd get angry with athletic ease, break common laws in twos and threes
If I die clutching your photograph
Don't call me boring, It's just 'cause I like you
Take me on back... take me back
To the place where I could feel your heart
Is this the end or just the start of
Something really, really beautiful
Wrapped up and disguised as something really, really ugly,

Won't you...

Come by and see me, I'm a love letter away
I'd break your name before I'd say, "I really love you, love you, "
I don't care if you saw, I watched every inch of film
Flash across your Roman features,
And I loved it, loved it; I don't care if

You think I'm eager to shut your eyes, well
I'm sorry-everybody knows you can't break me with your gutter prose
Would you believe it, she sent me a letter,
The ring, it nearly weighs her down, she's got another boy, oh boy
Steady your ears... read my lips
Poetry is not a luxury, it's how I'll break this home
And when I'm really ill, won't you cradle me?
Man is not a noble animal, but maybe woman is, remember,

I heard you...

Inside your room, you said, "You never really live
Until your back's against the wall, " oh did you really mean it?
I never break my gaze, if just to see this scar remain reflected in your eyes
I think it's time to go home

GUITAR SOLO

Oh, tell me your thoughts, tell me your thoughts on liberty,
See there's a place where I sink to sleeping
Oh, my vote is as red as my blood
Will you join me for another round? I haven't had the chance to speak yet

God speed...

I break the law once every week to feel your touch,
What's a book to you in bed, Do you feel better, older?
This just makes me ill, your name is dripping from my pen
Still you're not around to curse,
I'll drop the gun now, I'm still under you...

Fuck.
Just...fuck.