{ feeling : sick
{ hearing : girl talk – still here
My past makes me want to cease to exist all the time. Moving on, of all the people I run see at a Hood Internet show, another reason I dwell on my inadequacies and self-loathing.
“… i most definitely don’t have to worry whether or not diona is happy and entertained. sometimes i think that’s all her friends were to her. i hope northside leave her now instead of making the same mistake as me and staying with a total bitch like her. she doesn’t care and now i don’t either.”
- Her, Jan/Feb 2002
Wow, that’s from years ago. Why I have that still is because I am a dork pack rat. Facebook usually has something more updated. Yes, I wander Facebooks’ of people I haven’t seen in years just because. I guess there’s no redemption in such a statement but whatever. Moving onto about 11:30pm tonight?
“There is a girl from my grade school here. It comforts me to know she’s still fat and obnoxious trash”
- Her, June 19, 2008
I’m not really sure how to feel about it. Reassure her that I’m aware of my obese, pathetic state and that my only real tie with a person be my boyfriend? Pity fit? Be sorry? I always am. Be angry about it? Be sad about it? Truths. They hurt.
Thing about my past is that I hate it (as said). I was a spoiled brat early on. I was pretty much a brat in school. Brat turned awkward. Awkward turned brat and eventually to now where I try not to do anything that gets me back to brat. Granted, I mooch off of Joe like a mofo but I try to repay as much as can. I feel unworthy of it as well sometimes … I don’t know. It’s a weird situation.
Thing about my past. Any of it … Is that I try my best to focus on the good that came from it. I guess it’s selfish of me to focus on the “entertained” portion of past relationships.
I can dwell on the negative as much as I want (and I have) but it gets me nowhere. Just angry, stressed, wanting to be on Zoloft for another few months.
The thing about this girl is that I really cared about her even though as a brat, I guess it didn’t show much. What would I rather think of when thinking about this girl: singing along to The Lion King feeling really strange yet cool or being dicks to each other about something or someone that’s different now.
While I am still sick, I enjoyed the show as much as a girl with a coughing fit could. Free hard copies of the Hood v. Chicago, and Joe got a neat screened poster from Steve. The girl. Her name is Kate, if anyone was curious. I considered saying hi and catching up with her. Joe wanted me, too. I guess it was best that I never did. I’m just left with this undecided emotion.
