Saturday, March 12, 2005
Embarrasing Repost from Xanga
Just to have it up here too.
Friday, March 11th, day before the SAT 10:25pm
God I'm tired. Finished SAT practice test after 8 hours or so of working. Kidding, probably less. I didn't just sit down and do it....don't know how it'll go tomorrow.
It's finally sinking in that I won't get to go shopping before April. That could be an issue...*sigh* I'm so tired. I lay awake for maybe an hour this morning, listening to the garbage truck rumble down the street. Julie forgot to take out the trash last night. I didn't hear the shower this morning but that's what she said she was doing rather than putting the recycling out to the curb. It was really bright this morning, and that's saying something because later it was cloudy and suddenly it was noticeable that we hadn't turned on any lights inside.
There's more than one thing I need to do. Find out about Jenny's party...I don't know, but I'm having this overwhelming feeling that I shouldn't go. Not that I wouldn't enjoy myself, it's almost like I need to feel isolated right now, like I should forbid myself to go. Abstinence...only not in the modern definition of the term now...like fasting...refraining from activities/actions that are pleasureable...
Oh god. I don't know if it's really him or if it's...no, it was his brother. An old.."friend" got online for a second. Or at least his screenname did. *Sigh* I guess I'm jumpy about that too. I need to talk to him, to write something so that I won't feel this way, like I'm (yes, I'm selfish that way) missing out on knowing and talking to this great person.
It feels like I'm pouring things out into this unfeeling and flat box online. I'm creating words out of emotions and thoughts. No one actually thinks in words. It's more like a slur; no--a more aesthetic word--a flow of undefined feelings and urgings. Words, a song, a sight, a smell or pain evokes memories that, nostalgic in nature already, lead out to abstract thought that may just be a confusing mixture of feelings.
I've never done this before. Written like this in an online journal I know someone reads. I've written things on other blogs, but when I never see comments, I assume I can say anything without any knowledge of the people I'm often speaking about. So I've deliberately steered around certain things. I guess I'm not as open as I thought I was.
~~~
I really love music, and sometimes I wonder if my life would be different if I had learned an instrument...there's an overwhelming 'yes' hanging over that question.
I wrote a bit about my response to the practice SAT essay question. I didn't answer it, of course, I wrote about how I felt about answering it. Which is pure fiction as well. My thoughts have just been bouncing around today. I want it to be summer, I don't like to be spending so much time online or inside, I wish it was warmer, I wish I was like other people who actually do things outside academics and go out with their friends. I haven't had a friend over in...three weeks at least. I haven't gone over to anyone's house in...a couple months. I don't know...if I should be worrying about that. If I should try to be a little more social. If I should stop speaking in fragments. Hmm. It reminds me of my friend. It's a characteristic of his, and an annoying one at that...so I'm not unaware of your annoyance that I do it.
I've read a few other online journals and sometimes there's an overwhelming usage of 'hims', vague and frequent to say the least. I guess I'm that way too, but people aren't very prominent in my life; I live in my head, and I've so far been in there while (supposedly) effectively living a life outside as well. Not really, I don't think. People are a mystery to me. I can't decipher motivation any more than I can read someone's expression or body language. Hell, I can't even tell voices apart half the time. It's very offputting, but probably a result of my introverted nature. I can only speculate, with immense disatisfaction, what people must think of me. I've done things that I then look back on with horror, wonder at how it was interpreted by those around me, and whether anyone is actually watching me when I'm thinking...
I didn't mean to write this much. It just kind of came out. ¶ 3:43 PM
Friday, March 11th, day before the SAT 10:25pm
God I'm tired. Finished SAT practice test after 8 hours or so of working. Kidding, probably less. I didn't just sit down and do it....don't know how it'll go tomorrow.
It's finally sinking in that I won't get to go shopping before April. That could be an issue...*sigh* I'm so tired. I lay awake for maybe an hour this morning, listening to the garbage truck rumble down the street. Julie forgot to take out the trash last night. I didn't hear the shower this morning but that's what she said she was doing rather than putting the recycling out to the curb. It was really bright this morning, and that's saying something because later it was cloudy and suddenly it was noticeable that we hadn't turned on any lights inside.
There's more than one thing I need to do. Find out about Jenny's party...I don't know, but I'm having this overwhelming feeling that I shouldn't go. Not that I wouldn't enjoy myself, it's almost like I need to feel isolated right now, like I should forbid myself to go. Abstinence...only not in the modern definition of the term now...like fasting...refraining from activities/actions that are pleasureable...
Oh god. I don't know if it's really him or if it's...no, it was his brother. An old.."friend" got online for a second. Or at least his screenname did. *Sigh* I guess I'm jumpy about that too. I need to talk to him, to write something so that I won't feel this way, like I'm (yes, I'm selfish that way) missing out on knowing and talking to this great person.
It feels like I'm pouring things out into this unfeeling and flat box online. I'm creating words out of emotions and thoughts. No one actually thinks in words. It's more like a slur; no--a more aesthetic word--a flow of undefined feelings and urgings. Words, a song, a sight, a smell or pain evokes memories that, nostalgic in nature already, lead out to abstract thought that may just be a confusing mixture of feelings.
I've never done this before. Written like this in an online journal I know someone reads. I've written things on other blogs, but when I never see comments, I assume I can say anything without any knowledge of the people I'm often speaking about. So I've deliberately steered around certain things. I guess I'm not as open as I thought I was.
~~~
I really love music, and sometimes I wonder if my life would be different if I had learned an instrument...there's an overwhelming 'yes' hanging over that question.
I wrote a bit about my response to the practice SAT essay question. I didn't answer it, of course, I wrote about how I felt about answering it. Which is pure fiction as well. My thoughts have just been bouncing around today. I want it to be summer, I don't like to be spending so much time online or inside, I wish it was warmer, I wish I was like other people who actually do things outside academics and go out with their friends. I haven't had a friend over in...three weeks at least. I haven't gone over to anyone's house in...a couple months. I don't know...if I should be worrying about that. If I should try to be a little more social. If I should stop speaking in fragments. Hmm. It reminds me of my friend. It's a characteristic of his, and an annoying one at that...so I'm not unaware of your annoyance that I do it.
I've read a few other online journals and sometimes there's an overwhelming usage of 'hims', vague and frequent to say the least. I guess I'm that way too, but people aren't very prominent in my life; I live in my head, and I've so far been in there while (supposedly) effectively living a life outside as well. Not really, I don't think. People are a mystery to me. I can't decipher motivation any more than I can read someone's expression or body language. Hell, I can't even tell voices apart half the time. It's very offputting, but probably a result of my introverted nature. I can only speculate, with immense disatisfaction, what people must think of me. I've done things that I then look back on with horror, wonder at how it was interpreted by those around me, and whether anyone is actually watching me when I'm thinking...
I didn't mean to write this much. It just kind of came out. ¶ 3:43 PM
