it's 3:31 a.m., on 2001-07-29 - self-pitying.

~

I'm going to make this as short as I can, because I've already written two or three emails to River tonight, and this seems a little redundent. But I did want to say. I'm not all right.

A stupid thing happened tonight. --no, be honest with yourself. Okay. I did a stupid childish thing tonight. Nothing major, just, something someone said got to me, brought me into a place I didn't want to be-- when it shouldn't have. I should be a hell of a lot tougher than this.

Anyway.

This is from the end of the last email to River. I'm thinking about writing Max some. I'm feeling Max. Her email started lance and ended up Max.

I saw a Roswell today that had Max saying he was the boy behind the tree. Like, he didn't really live; didn't talk to people. he slouches in his chairs a lot.

I bet he feels stupid all the time. He has a perfect older sister who loves him but who's a bitch to cover up her loving side, and a best friend who's a whack job and refuses to do anything but accuse him of fucking up and be serious and whacked out.

He doesn't have anyone to say, hey, no matter what I'll be here listening to you, and actually believe him. He grew up without that safety net of a best friend that would make him feel good.

He feels people look at him and think, 'oh, there goes Max.' and that tone they have when they say Max, it's not necessarily cruel... but it makes him know that whether they ever say it or not, he's not really welcome. They just can't go through the bother of disliking him.

because he's not worth it.

I am feeling a lack of surety. That's all. A week before a trip to Toronto, this isn't a good thing. if I bring it with me I'll be unbearable.

~

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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015

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