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Thursday, July 5th, 2001
3:35a - random friends | random rain | random hurt
Well, a night or two ago when I was feeling lonely and posted that I wished I had people to talk to, I went random-journal-surfing again . . . among the interesting things I have found so far with this method are:

A journal filled entirely with bible quotes.
Several journals of poetry. (mostly bad, I hate to say.)
One journal which apparently chronicled the owner's sexual escapades. (sorry, don't have the url anymore :) )
Far far far too many people who are lonely.
or have been broken up with.
or are cutting themselves.
or are suicidal.
or are being abused in one way or another.

Most of them . . . what can I say? For some reason they're another of the crowd. Whether it's that they chat about one of those, then immediately switch to N'Sync or the Backstreet Boys, or whether it's something else . . . I don't know. I can't empathize somehow - many of them don't seem to be damaged, they seem to just be claiming to be damaged. And maybe that shows that they're worse off than anyone else, but . . . not much I can do about it.

On the other hand, I found a few more people I wanted to add to friends. One of which randomly IM'ed me. Like, the next day. After having AIM open for five minutes. (or less.) wow, that's one proactive friend! Not that I'm complaining . . . I just tend to find it a bit astonishing that someone's interested in *me* :P

A comment echoed by the second person who randomly IM'ed me when I got home. After having AIM open for five minutes. (or less.) I wonder if this is going to be a pattern? . . . wouldn't exactly complain. I like people! What can I say?

I'm at 37 friends, and 21 people who have me as a friend. Subtract a few communities and a few people who don't update, and I'm running at about 2/3 of the people add me.

I wonder what that says?

I wonder if I'm looking for meaning where there isn't any.

In Seattle, you get to notice when the sky is falling, in little damp pieces. It's just one of those things. "Just felt a raindrop", you say. "I didn't feel anything" says the person who isn't that sensitive. "Well, it was just one. Maybe it'll start drizzling." And five minutes later it does. Single raindrops set it off.

I've been feeling single raindrops for a few days now . . . and it hasn't been rainy or anything. It's weird. Phantom raindrops?

it must be raining, 'cause a man ain't supposed to cry
but I look up, and I don't see a cloud


And my stomach has been upset. Stress. Insane stress.

I'm surprised I'm surviving as well as I am.

the whole girlfriend issue . . . how can I ask someone out, when I know that if they don't help me, it will tear itself apart? Either I'd be asking someone to make a huge commitment to me, or I'd be asking someone to contribute to something which is doomed . . .

maybe I'll heal.

"how long has it been? (if you don't mind telling me.)"
"(checks calendar) six months. minus a few days if you count when I was actually told, plus a few days if you count when I knew."

I wish AIM had logging. I wouldn't have to replicate lines like this out of memory.

In two and a half weeks, we decided we weren't going to go out. then stayed in each other's arms for literal hours and realized that we couldn't bear to be apart. One year ago.

. . . what strange things I find in this file when I look.
8/31/00 3:53 AM

I keep flashing back to that last phone call . . .

. . . she wasn't crying.
And four short months later, she really did break up with me . . . and we were together for . . . five months? is that really all?

Five months.

"I love her so much, and yet I am powerless to help. I can only watch as she tears herself apart in front of my eyes."

"Remember that you love her. Always, always, always, remember."

"she's an adult now. she . . . metamorphosed, transcended, whatever you want to call it. she gained self-confidence, determination . . . I don't know what else.

I had nothing to do with it."

"I NEVER MEANT TO HURT YOU!"

"Why does it have to hurt for so long? . . . I just want it to be over . . ."

"What's the point, really? I mean . . . I try my best. I do everything I can. And yet . . . yeah. So what's the point?"

this.

End assorted quotes from assorted journals, in chronological order.


current mood: melancholy/lonely

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2:28p
Facts about the mail client I use for college mail:

It has a limited-size subject bar.
Its font for "unread messages" is bold, which is wider than its font for "deleted messages", which is not.

Result:

I recently got an email claiming to be "A July Special That You Can't Afford..."

I clicked "delete", and it added "To Miss!" at the end.

I feel like my computer is trying to learn advertising :)


current mood: amused

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