Saturday, February 26, 2005 // 12:14 AM

im tired and unhappy, listening to milk. it has been months and then years, but i am still the older me when the guards come down. your voice rings again in my head, too tired to be anyone but yourself.

i am still sad when i think about it, though no longer in a way hopeful or a way yearning. sad in a way hopeless, sad the way a sigh is a sad, a sigh that only manages to interrupt perpetual occupation for... five secounds. count them, the moments before everything. reasserts itself.

i tried to think again today and it was like trying to use a limb that has been dead for years and years and years. everything is clumsy and blank and uninspired, unnatural. when i ask myself, why are you doing this now, all over again? there is no answer i can give myself, my sudden need to. end this turning away.

ella. if a sin is but social, is it a sin at all? sin is the wrong word to use, i know. i dont care because society or its majority representative bores me to tears, refuses my attempts at. provocation. oh but i am so tired, so so tired. too tired for deliberation, toleration, conversation. all this prosaic-ness might be chanelled onto another form of pen and paper, if i could bring myself to have the self-discipline. self-discipline.

today i felt like jumping off the bus. there are too many people and the smell of too much carbon dioxide. wafting in my face. oh how i felt so completely insane, i am not kidding when i say, get me off the bus i am fucking claustrophobic. i imagine all the things that could go wrong, the bus topples over we are stuck in that box for. an hour. we are illegal immigrants, creeping furtively across the border in our dull green grocery truck. people have pissed and fainted on the floor, it all just means another less head a eye level, breathing level. i imagine we might have to be like this for the rest of our lives, will i get used to it? will i throw myself in front of a vehicle in pursuit of escape. i am sorry for being so unstable, so weak weak weak. discomfort need not spiral down and trip up sanity, i know. my head knows.

by the way. i cant stand you because of how you so strive to impress, how you so. cannot talk about anything other than yourself. girl i dont care, girl im not interested. you're hardly what i'd call an interesting person, i am sorry i am sorry i am sorry. i am not saying, hey you suck. i am saying, you're not my kind of girl, you're not my kind of person, go away go away. it is tiring to feign this interest and curiosity, girl you are so completely mundane. completely mundane. there is something about the concept of the inside joke that you have completely been missing. oh i dont care, just turn your laughter and your audience-hungry enlightenment for. someone else who has the patience and the niceness enough to give a shit.