Sunday, April 10, 2005 // 10:43 PM

i dont know where this tiredness comes from. it is not like i played some crazy shit game of touch, or walked with daniel three bus-stops down, like last week. this time it is the adrenalin that is awol, i am running on my own fuels.

i think i am just going to keep becoming a Stranger and Stranger person. i dont think this is a bad thing, necessarily, i would perhaps even say it's a good thing. by my own yardstick. but it crossed my mind that day that someday sooner or later im going to get even more jaded than i already am, i am going to run out of this anti-establishment fuel, this crazy psychoshit needtomakeastatement needtoprovokeareaction needtocreateacheapthrill fuel. i am going to buckle i am going to give in i am going to conform. i cant remember who told me that this is called Growing Up. but i never said i wanted to grow up, that's not something i signed myself up for.

somebody said something about eternity today and i felt it again, i looked beyond the conversation at the patch of blue sky behind rachel's head, i feel like dying i feel like dying. i am staring hard at surface of my handphone and thinking i dont blame people for wanting to fill their worlds, fill their minds with all things synthetic, all things shut up and in a box, all things predictable, controllable, understandable, at least by our race if not by our individual selves. tell me how exactly i am supposed to accept that there is more, so much more than what my mind can contain.

today i picked up my pencil and i found that i couldnt doodle a single thing. it is not a good feeling, your mind being completely blank, your hands being. lost for words. i realise that it is not true what andrew says, that i can manifest what is in my mind's eye onto paper, it is just my hands wrecking havock on their own, moving swiftly precociously over paper, experimenting on the way. do i feel like i have any control over this? honesty, not really, my conscious mind is not the one coming up with these animal heads on human bodies, these bleeding penguins and crying, convoluted bottles. there is nothing new about my symbols, i dont believe in originality anymore, remember? but i do, i really really do.

i cant talk to you normally, isnt that strange. this spawns from having absoluetly nothing to say to you, while at the same time wanting to say so much. what is it, exactly, that i want to say to you? i havent got a clue and i cant name. a single thing. why do i want to say so much to you, i dont even want to know. i wish i'd never met you, sometimes, it seems as if you are complicating my life.

at least i know i am not the only one who is freaked out at the idea of heaven.

i desperately want to be comfortable with everything. i desperately want to... close my eyes and never wake up, because really, sleeping qualifies. i am not even thinking about dreams like he says i dont care i dont care i dont care. i dont want to wake up tomorrow, even to send david off, i just want to go to sleep tonight and never wake up never wake up never wake up. help me, no dont help me, give me a way out! please. please. im not going crazy right now, but trust me some day it is going to happen. i am going to be crying out for theraphy some day and the thought sickens me, it is the same thought that makes me go to the doctor when im sick come home and chuck the medicine into a glass bottle. i have medicine from years back years back that i have refused to let help me get better. i'll bet there is a name for this, after all there is a name for absolutely everything. absolutely everything. kevin i wonder what theraphy is going to be like for you. i hated it, i dont want to tell you this because i dont want you to be tainted by my philosophy, but i hate it. i hate it hate it hate it. this idea this feeling like i cant take control of my own mind and my own existence, what is wrong with me? if you havent noticed, i am an incredibly independent individual, and needing, the whole concept of needing, just sounds pathetic to me. im sorry, this is a childish way to go about my life, but it is my gut reaction.

you know. having decided to do something more mature doesnt mean that i am mature. i am not mature, i am probably one of the most immature people i know. this i hate about myself, this is just total rubbish, this is something i so badly wish wasnt part of myself. of course i am not going to be all proactive and actually try to do something about it, i am immature, remember?

i just dont want to have to work so hard. why should i have to be anyone but myself, why should i have to fight it? why should i have to fight it. i remember longtimeagosjiandrew was the one who introduced me to this concept: if it is natural for me to be fake, why not? so why the heck not. no one has yet given me an adequate retaliation to this.

i am sad that david is leaving, it is not because i am at all close to him, he is one of those people who is too casually upfront for me to be really close to. but i meant what i wrote in the card, i am happy for him so incredibly jealous so incredibly excited, and yet there is going to be this huge david-sized, david-shaped hole in zyf now. it is a huge hole, it is a crack in its foundation, the zyf as i know it. oh i know it is going to evolve and i know that things are going to continued with my generation, but all the same. i imagine how it must feel to be standing at that point, you know practically everybody is going to flying off to study/live sooner or later.

dumb head. the head is just a box.