I think the world is scaring me. every time I open my mouth something comes out I don't like... so I've been quiet all day, haven't said a word. trying not to say anything inside my head. it all feels quiet today. I don't feel well don't feel so well don't feel good just staring off well good well yeah reading this morning and last night.. didn't know that could make me feel like this. wondering if this is what makes me feel this way... I just want to go home like everyone else on veterans day... don't know why companies don't give more holidays off, makes employees happy... don't want to be an employees anymore.. don't want to be don't want to be don't want to be.. but I am... I think the back of my throat is on fire.. at least my mind is... why do people ask me questions and ask me to write them things and then when I go talk to them they treat me different? why does no one write back why do I aspect them to why do I want them to... why don't people understand my jokes and why is it only 9:45 in the morning. I think I'm going to cry it all feels bad right now.. do you hear me bad... bad bad bad... it all feels like a w aste right now.... and I can feel that... my eyes hurt they feel like I was crying last night and I wasn't heavy and swollen but they aren't ... what's is wrong...I feel like I am going to be sick I know where home is and I know where I live now. or at least I know where I lay my head each not.. well most nights. and I count down every day till 4:15. this still isn't it. should I take joy in knowing that this still isn't it. should I take joy in the bathroom light that shows that misshapen hair and that brown that just won't fully dye over that blond. it'll always be there. that hair will always look good on days it shouldn't... I cut it and dye it it grows back to spite me... it hides me in a way a sweatshirt will never... it gets me noticed in ways that I will never watch another.... can I remember standing in a dorm room in north Adams, by candlelight is I am not mistaken with a box of blond dye.. it wasn't bleach it was blond dye... trying to put streaks in by myself... first semester not second.. first semester not second... first when I wanted it to be golden not second when I wanted to tear it out... there was a mirror on the door, the back of the door and I could see it all happening.. the dye and my hair mixing and holding each other.. predator and prey.. predicting a stage be set... I can remember the lighting.. I remember it so vividly.. .it hurts..... it stings.. but it felt natural and almost looked natural.. did anyone every think I had dark brown hair?

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Last Five:
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NOrTH BeaCh ConcLUsioN - 2005-07-14
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PatIENce is AS PatiENCE Will - 2005-07-28