it's 7:59 am, on April 11, 2002 - a murder of one.
~
I just realized something, staring at "human behavior" for the dozen-th -- is that a word? -- time and earning merit badges, and it's this: I really can't complain about not having any close friends.
Oh, and merit badges: that's another Mel-ism. Doing fuck-all, wasting time, sitting. Doing anything but what you're supposed to. Merit badges. They're almost as good as a pony.
..anyway, about the close friends. I just realized that if people need me, like, really out and out need a friend, I tend to bail. I mean, the only people I'm ever there for are the ones who don't want to talk about it. And seriously, how is this winning me friends and influencing people here, y'know?
People post in their LJs a lot about how badly their lives are going, and stuff, especially in this journal I have for pop music, and I scroll past without even reading it. Real life, if people start acting like they need someone, I'm elsewhere for the duration. Reliability has never been my middle name. The only promises I've really been making lately are to River, and I don't know if I've kept those, or if they've been broken somewhere along the way and I didn't even know how.
So, yeah. Close friends? I don't deserve'em, because I don't ever want to be that girl. --and you would be right over.
Barenaked ladies quotes. It must be later than I thought.
Other things of note: merit badges, which I already mentioned, and "almost as good as a pony", because really, don't we all want a pony? Right. So, but, other things can be almost as good as a pony, since there is nothing better than. Also a Mel-ism.
I translate these things for me, not for anyone else, so that a year down the road I can read what I've typed up and remember what my old language was. Though a nice side benefit of explaining them in this journal is the one, two -- I hesitate to say three in case it's a high estimate -- people that may care about my own personal language, can have their own little dictionary.
Random, thy name is, but: also to note. Brighid, this just, this gorgeous writer that I fell in love with from OZ, actually lives in Vancouver. I am fangirl-y just thinking about this. Have no ideas on how to say, 'hey, um, yo!' even, but I always say I give Brighid feedback, so she's an important part of the translation, too. And she lives here. so.
Also. Earlier, was thinking about SRI. Well, no, they weren't subconscious, but. Can't seem to understand them, still; can't seem to translate them. Must think.
August, as Mel says, is very much a touch stone. We are all living for the dancing, yo. No need to be an alarmist, but. One does think about certain things, late at night when no one's up and one realizes that really, self-hate is justified. So. Dancing is All Good.
Sister is up for school now. Should probably go to bed. Will leave blinds open in punishment for spending another night awake; sleep badly, if at all possible, as penance for this wasted life.
Wasted life. What's that a quote from? Sounds like Counting Crows in my head, maybe "A Murder of One"? Looking up the lyrics and.... ahh. Yes. This is it:
All your life is such a shame
All your love is just a dream
Open up your eyes
You can see the flames
of your wasted life
You should be ashamed
You don't want to waste your life
I walk along these hillsides in the summer 'neath the sunshine
I am feathered by the moonlight falling down on me
Change
Imagine it in Adam's voice. It sounds a lot better than it looks. And. Change. Yeah.
The word in my mind, right now, is 'train-wreck'. Possibly, 'I am a train wreck, either waiting to happen or already happened'. It's raining.
~
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