I know you are but what am I?

Something is wrong/right. You are wrong. No I am wrong. No nothing is wrong, you're just confusing things. It doesn't mean anything. But it does! It does! No child, you listen here. Stop thinking or you'll realize something. We want you to feel better. Take this. When you wake up tomorrow morning you won't care about any of that stuff.

There it is. That bright orb in the night sky. It has a big ring of light around it, probably zillions of millions off, but it's perfectly round. Now stare at it. Don't move. Discipline! Still, stay still! Can't move. Must stay here.

It was in the driveway that I woke up the other night. Well no not really, but it would have been insteresting to say. I just laid there and stared at the moon with this threat in the back of my mind that if I didn't bad things would happen and it would be all my fault. My lack of discipline.

I'm not crazy. I'm not insane. No, I think I'm just too in touch with some things that it becomes overwhelming. It causes me to rip my hair out and bang my head against anything and slap my face and sit in corners praying and then watch my tears fall and strings of snot flowing from my nose and then do it all over again. When I pause from these activities I look around and all I see are all these props and actors and nothing seems real at all. I want it all to start moving. I want it to come alive.
Apparently thinking this way and most especially having the inability to explain how desperate I get sometimes to See means I must take medication, Zoloft specifically, so I can think "clearly" like everyone else. I'm afraid it'll only hold me back. And I saw a book in the psychiatrist's office that said "You Must Be Dreaming".
I guess medication is the only way to ensure the comfort of the outsiders who still don't see this cage they've put themselves in. I sometimes think that the people we think insane and we put away or medicate are usually the ones who have seen a bit of truth. Maybe they have vision; maybe they know something the rest of us don't know because when they get too close for comfort we medicate them or do away with them. I know there's exceptions. I hope I'm not one of them.
Whatever it is, I'm long past caring at the moment. I can't express it anyways. On a more less dense note, Chris and Edric came over this weekend and all was fine. So fine it was boring. And unfortunately I didn't get to show them the chickens that reside in the woods- the black chickens of DEATH! It's all I ever wanted to do goshdarnit! Instead we looked at various items in my room- Chris looked through a book and my England album and Edric snooped around and found a quarter sitting on my dresser that he stuck in his eye. Of course that happened to be the same quarter I put in my belly button earlier as a display of my wonderful belly button talents. Then both Chris and Edric, on the occassions they came we sat in the family room and watched TV...with my parents. So cool, yes. A most dull affair, if not uncomfortable and embarrassing. At least my dad didn't walk in wearing only his underwear. No, I mean Thank God.
I wish more could have happened, but then maybe I'm just not good at "hanging out".
Anyways I constantly wish Tom was here. Maybe we could develop a new kind of hanging out, although I'm not sure what it would be(You there! Stop thinking perverted. I didn't mean anything like that in the least). Just that it we would have a fantabulous time and would eat coconut soup on a cliff overlooking something really impressive and beautiful. Hello hello hello hello hello hello hello hello hello my Tommy Boy.

On another note, look at the Zoe-miester!

DEATH!

Today is a very sad day in the writing utensil community.

I amn't!

And this will be a random thoughts thread because my head has been swarming with them over the past couple of weeks but I've not yet found a way to express them. This will not be the way.

I think I'm going to be quiet and keep my mouth shut from now on. See, I'm sitting here in the car outside a restaurant I would rather not go in. My parents are inside. I'm sure it's warm and comfortable in there. In a way I feel like the little match girl, except that I don't have anything but a notepad. (notice I wrote this when I wasn't on the computer) Hopefully this means I won't die in a heap outside the door of this restaurant. I can see it now. What if I went out in the grass over there? I want to prostrate myself and pray. They'll find my body later, frozen, small, and pale. And now I'm imagining a CSI episode. "Look at the discoloration of her lips. Hmm...looks like this could be...Murder!" But I'm still here shivering and trying to figure out why my eyes want to cry. And somehow things from a different perspective would change everything, I always think. "If I could just freeze to death out there by that hotel, everything would become clear and life would all come flooding back or maybe it would just be all new". Unfortunately the freezing to death part makes the rest of it a bit difficult.
There's this little yapper dog in the car next to me and he's yapping. Apparently this is cute for people who dont' have to endure the yapping for an extended period of time. I see them. They come up and talk to the dog before they go in. One man had a conversation with it. I guess the pitiful creature was lonely.
I don't want to start this sentence with "I" but I just did. I'm dark, hidden in a hoodie while passersby still stare. There's a lovely family here who can't seem to decide if they want to leave the restaurant or not.
There's a hotel nearby where all the windows are dark except for one with the blueish glow of a tv screen. I wish I knew what they were watching. I would change the channel for them.
I wrote all this just to mention the glow of the TV screen.
I keep sitting here judging everything alive, being thoroughly dissatisfied with it. I'm scowling, thinking "Ugh, look at those people eat! They're not allowed to do that!"

I wrote that all in my mom's little notebook she keeps in the car to record updates on oil changes and such, but she never uses it so I wrote that all over the cover of it in case she didn't know she didn't use it.

And now to be totally unoriginal I shall copy and paste almost everything that sounded right for a moment this week.

You know more than one person likes Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. I am not alone.

I'm drinking black tea. Not really but that's what it's called. It's more like chai tea except that I didn't add milk.

I'm thinking of tummies now. Your's and mine and that person's and those other people's.

But the problem now is blogger never lets me paste. So...I'd have to pretend to quote Tom's biomatter waste stories or stuff about glowing hamsters or well nothing. Nothing happened. I've been incredibly depressed today as the sun started setting. Tom never got online and this made it worse. The only one I really want to share my thoughts with. This means thoughts have been lost and my heart is aching for my dear boy. Yes, I like to pretend he's mine. But he's not. How easily I forget these things. I assume ownership over everything and then wonder why it hurts so much to have it taken away. Anyways, Tommy is a blessing to me and a gift. Now if he'd just reveal himself at this ungodly hour. Of course for European insomniacs like him, it would be ideal.

Everything is so much the same I don't much feel like being anyone anymore. All the good parts have been taken, the good bands have been found, the fashions, the faces, the thoughts, the writing, the everything, it's all been done before. So I'm finding it hard to find a purpose for myself. I'm already getting an idea of what it's going to be like. Nothing like I've imagined. Nothing my parents would be proud of, at least not my mom. Mostly alone, mostly sadness, always yearning for something this world can't offer me. We humans are so blurry. Why is this called clarity? Why is this accepted as concrete? I don't understand. Nothing they say satisfies my hunger. I feel like Job, except I'm not righteous at all. I'm waiting to be knocked senseless on my face.

Now other things that must be mentioned before I retire are my parents now have almost free plane tickets to anywhere Delta flies. Glee! But no, time is a problem. And the parents will want to go to a beach or national park somewhere instead of Tom. Tom is my place and I'm going there. Just don't know how, but this could have made it suddenly really conveinent.

Another thing is that I found out a male friend I've had is really female. My relationship is now upside down and I feel as if I don't know them at all. I can't really accurately say how dissappointing and strange this is. But I guess that's what happens with internet people. I didn't really want to tell anyone because then they'd say "I told you so."


And that's it for the moment. Until my brain refuses to function again yet is adament about producing crap anyways, God bless you my dear journal readers. May you be knocked over the head with an anvil of clarity and truth so you can spare me the pain and just tell me. Or something like that. I promise it shouldn't hurt too bad. I think.

And I'm off.

Look

Here is an update.

Enjoy.

(Oh God, there are too many people in this world. And I'm alone.)