January, 31. 2000
I want Jupiter love. I fucking want it all.
I start thinking I crave some semblance of domesticity, but that's the last fucking thing I want. Please God don't tell me it's too late to take that back. You know what is the scariest thing to me about saying what I want? The possibility that I'll then get it. Getting what I want is... the scariest thing.
Watch Chaara delve into psuedo intellectualism.
I'm keeping it like a secret. No I don't want to be always so inside myself. But I don't wanna talk.
"Drink all night to take away this curse-
but it makes me feel much worse."
What the fuck can I say to that? I'm afraid I may be entirely blank without these creatures of mine. What do I do with my hands here? Where I used to hold them... And my chest is all exposed, Bilbo and the dragon. I'm flailing around all naked... what now? Roll over and be killed, sword in that.. softspot- right there at the heart. I don't think there is anything fucking left!
I don't like the infinite questions-folding-back-into-themselves mental track that gets me on.
And it's not over yet. Mazzy Star is singing "Take Everything". That's how this feels. Well, it won't kill me. It's only ...a complete mental overhaul. I'm too far gone to know if it's good for me or not. And, frankly, I don't even care. (I tell myself) I'll just enjoy the fucking ride.