Wreckless Distances.
I fell asleep listening to Sting sing Come Down In Time. I believe these songs I choose warp my dreams.
I do not see out of my own eyes. I look on everything like an unnoticed third party. I see myself with the warped self image I've always had.
Everyday is a good day to not be a six foot tall blonde.
. . .
My mom came back engaged. His oldest daughter has the same name as I, add an R. And, apparently, she even looks like me.
She's in missionary school. She attends church every day. If I spoke to her, I would be "the lost".
Yeah. I will not be making that trip with her until Ryan can come with me. I'll need backing on that one.
I can't help but feel badly for her, being brain washed since birth, being born in that state. I would naturally want to take her out of there. Scoop up all of the cult members and get them drunk, high, and force them to watch porn.
. . .
I thought the Earth would crack open and swallow me. On the steps, in the sun, coffee, smokes, headphones. In that 2 minutes and 30 seconds, I wish the world could have ended, so I could die on top.
. . .
My drama has become larger than my life.
. . .
My procrastination is nothing more than my fear of being alone in a strange place. It's not that I don't desperately want to leave here, it's just that I'm afraid of myself by myself. I mean truly alone.
I do incredibly dumb things by myself, including, but not limited to, sleeping with strangers, doing excessive amounts of drugs, and drinking to the point of passing out. It's like the freedom just gets to my head, and I lose all control. Not that I have a whole lot of that to begin with.
Out beyond the aching skyline
These relationships far away are so safe in their down. It's so much easier to remember all of the hurt, remember the longing, the unfullfilled promises. It's all in the present, in the moment, and when you start to think ahead, it spins out of control, into some fantasy world where people mean what they say, and are able to make life destroying changes. I know that I cannot pick everything up and go right now. The distance makes me dizzy.
No amount of love will disrupt my comfort, not without words, not without effort, not without a ring.
The little girl that still believes in white horses, farm houses, and home made bread always thinks differently.
Between the hard and soft or our evaporations
This is safe. This is warm. This is home.
This is my diary reformed through transition. I get to be me again, without worry of finger pointing, copying and pasting, and discussions of what's wrong with me.
I'm not totally delusional. I know it still goes on. But, now I don't know what time it happens.
The ego will miss it. The part that needs this peace will not.
I will never justify here. I will never apologize here. I will go back and say, Yeah. I felt that way at 10:05 on October 12th, 2002.
Carie.