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15 February 2003 - 1:15 pm
typhoonery.

"now coming down / out of this swan dive / to your arms / i make no sounds / when i move through your reservoir // but i wake up quick / and i wake up sick / as you, abandon me into these fields of rank and file"

(soundtrack : the wallflowers - letters from the wasteland)

//

a little paranoid today, honestly, and accompanied with the nostalgic flavour of heartburn's bile in my mouth. chalky tums before i even eat them. the date for a open mic poetry reading at borders on the back of my hand in the "remember sammy jankis" position. gonna go, i think. i hope to.

standing outside of global enlightenment with josie, corey, jake. they are discussing what it means to imply something unintentionally. diving into semantics, or grammatics. some tic. walls are melting. josie walks out of the computer lab where i'd seen her checking journals and guestbooks from across the way through the glass doors. walks up, pulls a face. "that's what i think of that test." amicable discussion follows re: the test.

morning passes smoothly but rather jerkily on my part, seeing as last night was a late night with a game of outburst played in the quad. this is my new favourite game.

//

thinking about discontinuing this journal. gonna start writing letters, too, i think. or corresponding emails, rather than this journal. i feel like i'm wasting a lot of effort in writing with this thing ... like maybe i'd write more other stuff if it wasn't this. i need more ... inspiration for poetry? i haven't written a poem in so long, save for the "only dykes write poetry" rant that is less of a poem and more of a male sexist anger thing.

kind of paranoid today. might have rehearsal tonight. might not. anthony's tonight. (soundtrack - wayne : slow down)

"slow this mother down / i'm falling off / the faster you move / closer to the edge / and there's a lot i haven't done"

sigh. paranoid. i can't be succinct or descriptive anymore, it's all forced. stucco white walls. vague and halting inferences and allusions. metaphors that are clunky and confused. teenage-girl metaphors. sky-and-sun words. things that only make sense in my head. i worry.

"GET HELP" still floats in my brain-soup, deranged alphabet goulash. it floats out and re-forms into a smiley face "LOVE, JOS"

(soundtrack - debussy, clair de lune)

semester is flashing by. camera-flash. can't focus really well, and all of this talk all of this psychobabble is limiting more than helping. i think this journal has become a place of fester, of rot, and ultimately, self-indulgence.

if i begin a new journal, or if i use this place for this purpose, it will be to comment solely upon the nature of adventure / and or travel, etc, even if said travel only occurs in the most banal of areas. i'm tired of the gripe and the daily melodrama. people don't need to read about what makes me maim myself. i'm sure they've heard it all before. etc. ad nauseam.

and it's not helping me, it's not helping anything. nothing helps. so i'm just hoping that things will continue on this vague upward hike. i feel kind of ill-at-ease, as though something heinous is about to occur. but maybe if i don't use THIS as my outlet and rather TALK to people ... i'll be a healthier individual.

(i refuse to "GET HELP". i can do it on my own.)

and i don't care what kind of unbalanced individual that makes you think i am. i don't care how stupid or inarticulate it is. i know that i have certain ... urges, and needs, and problems, that should be rectified and might even be okay to continue. but there are others that are like addictions that i should move away from ...

i have to stop here.

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