Tourist.
I want to touch briefly on the whole Inner Monologue deal that's been going around.
I generally have no thoughts of my own, instead, my head plays songs. Yesterday, it was Adam Ant. My stock song, though, is Girls on Film. I have no idea why, my brain just naturally gravitates there. So it goes a little something like this: (side note: I actually sang that in my head)
girlsonfilmduhduhduhduhduhgirlsonfil
mohshitiforgottoturnmycurlingironoffoh
thiscoffesgoodmybackhurtstheseshoes
suckdoihavesomethingstickingoutofmynose
dontdrinkdontsmokewhatdoyoudodontdrink
dontsmokewhatdoyoumutherfuckerineed
anoilchangeiwonderwhatkristinisdoing
tonightishouldcallherandfindoutbrak
keyskeysinbagstereoofflightsofflockdoor
seatbeltinotherseatclosedoorcheckfor
keysagainyestherelightsoffdamnitsfuckingcold
.. ..
I'm not sure why I'm making this entry. I guess it's out of habit. Download brain contents before going to bed so I don't keep myself awake with worry. I don't worry, so I'm not sure where that logic fits in.
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I think I should address the why here. I thought about making a FAQ page, but that's just dorky.
I quit for a few reasons. First, someone from work found my diary and helped themselves to the entire contents. Second, I was seriously obsessing over who was on it, and when, and where they came from. Third, because of Second, I couldn't really write about anything. Everyone took everything personally, no matter how vague I was. (Most of the time, it wasn't about who you thought it was about)
I started some place else for just two reasons. First, my old name sucked. Second, it's just so much a part of my life to dump everything here, I didn't know what to do with it. It's as though I don't really have anyone to tell these things to, so I put them here so psudeo friends can read about my really very uninteresting life.
And that's it really.
I don't know who's been here, and who hasn't. I don't care. If you're here, you're probably really bored, or you're procrastinating. And that's cool. Everyone has something.
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I've kind of decided that I can't have a relationship until I stop comparing everything to Bobby. Last night, I decided to call him and leave a message asking him if there was a time when we could talk on the phone. I didn't do it this morning, and I'm pretty scared to do it now.
I'm leaving it in my mouth until I get tired of the taste and spit it out, or decide it needs to be done and swallow it.
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Someone has put smoke criss crosses over the moon.
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I walked into work, singing in my head. I realized that I could die, right then, on the cold sidewalk. I wasn't afraid that I had things left to do, because I was thinking about a concert. Flashing lights, girls half naked with sparkles, glow sticks, and hands, moving, bodies moving, people touching, and everyone was there, then, happy.
....... ........ ........ ....... ........ ....... .......
There's a crescendo building, or my heart beat has increased speed, or someone put the tape on fast forward, or it's all my imagination fueled by the bouncing balls of my feet.