3 october 2006

1:30 AM
I know Irina's there. On MSN. I really hope I can talk toher tongiht. God I love her. Doh. ANd I wrote a song. It really is nothing at this point. Lengthen the verses, put it to music, some sense of resolve. I really think it'd be a poisonous song to sing, about getting to someone for all eternity in hell for something they've done to you. Maybe I wouldn't do that, but I feel as if someone would to someone who ruined them.
Irina. God I feel pathetic, but I can't stop thinking of her.

7 AM
I sort of left things on bad terms with Irina when I left our conversation at about 5 or 6 in the morning, so I apologized after I got a PM from her.
What is harder is dealing with my mom, the autist. Aspie is more like it, but whatever. That's how I left it with Irina. "Whatever..."
Yeah I just can't get things right. I don't know if I fucked things up. I don't know if Irina really loves me or not.
I just don't know. And no one is making it any easier for me.

11:20 AM
I've been posting shit all day.
Worries, worries, worries. It seems to be all I'm about. They'll have the part in for the Powerbook. Big. Fucking. Relief.
I guess I could have a fake beer right now. Sin alcohol. "Scene alcohl" sounds like.
My life is full of worthless memories. I'm really worried that I might have turned off Irina with my amateur softcore porn. Well, apparently not, but still.
God if there was someone more pathetic than me, he'd still have lost his virginity before me.
Saw a record store with a lone HTTT special edition and various fake RH shirts. That is, not WASTE. oh well, i still want more shirts lolzerz.
Yeah, but it's funny I've not seen RH shirts around here. You'd think there be more RH fans.
Wish we knew some.
Wo. It's like my life is the same as my mother's.
Fuck. I don't have a singular identity.
This diary might outlive the month although I doubt it. I wrote another crummy song but who knows, it might work as a words set to music. And it rhymes.
Eh. Nothing to be excited for. I've not been happy or sad. Just numb when I'm not w/ Irina. I make her smile. Amazing.
I love her. I really do. She des make me smile. My life and body seem a bit lighter with her. When I'm not drowning it in alchohol.
I really should stop. My life is crummy enough to douse it in beer.
Whattevah.
Strong feelings of love to compensate for what is ultimately weak emotions. Lyrics can only communivate what I really feel. I feel trapped in my own body. Not trapped. Just dead. Comatose. What was it I wanted to say? Oh yeah, I scream. I can't come out and I feel worse for it. When I do, it's an outburst. I come out to cry, to fight, to scream, to laugh, to be a manic, to want to die, etc...otherwise it's a fragment of a story, some song lyrics. That or I masturbate.
Is it an illness? Is it a gift? Is it a gift to have everything trapped? Is is a gift to be trapped in ones mind, in this bubble and it only bursts temporarily, then you're trapped in it again?
Suburban disease? A case of the bubble? All bottled up and under a torrential rain of beer and wine? To think you can feel something?
And then you don't... The end. There is nothing and no one to bring you out. You write and draw and play music that no one hears. and is that what this has amounted to?
Is this all I've amounted to?
I mean, does it come down to pills so I can feel normal? So I can feel normal and have swings or just numbness? Why must I feel like this? Why does it all amount to only tears? Is this worth living for?
So many questions, and I can't find the answers. Will I ever amount to anything? Will I ever be good for anyone?
Would I ever be good for her?
Could I be the one for her?
Then why is it so difficult, so impossible,and why does she not believe it is so?
I'm ending this day at 17:45 PM.
The 3rd of October 2006 closes.