WHATEVER WORDS I SAY, I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

Urgh. Squirmy squirmy questions I don't want to answer. Why am I not what I want to be yet? What happened there? Why still not yet? You know, icq seems to be well-tuned to what makes me squirm, thank you. Shutting down when I am up to answer some question I really wish hadn't been presented to me. Squirm squirm. At least they can't see me squirm. And yeah I got cut off there. Yeah. sdkkdjf;asnf;kna This is the temporary end. I don't think I can help you. I've heard it all before. You know that there is from radiohead, not me, right? But they're related. Same imbalance. Sentiment. I'd really love to help you but... Last night I overheard my mother on the phone bitching to my brother about me. She made mention of my cousins. "Yeah they cost their parents a fortune but at least they're moving forward. They're going to university." Ouch. Fuck you. I feel like the ambition-lacking little sister, burned in comparisons. I am so sick of that goddamn belief that student equals worthy. School=worth. Brainwash. This all makes me so tired. Just want to sleep when these waves come crashing on like this. Crucifixion season! Chaara is the devil! It's like telling a fat kid that he's fat. It'll just send him to the chocolate cake. Certainly not to a fucking treadmill. Just as I am hearing my bed calling me now. Just sleep, sleep, sleep. Go away, unsympathetic, accusing voices. Bla bla bla. Lock the door and sleep the clock around. I'll show them! Yeah. Oh shut up. The hallucinatory effects of too much Gravol. Whoah. That wuz last night. I have my dates all fucky cuz I slept for about 18 hours out of the last 24. You know when you think "Okay, time to die" and you don't die? And sometimes you wake up glad and sometimes you wake up mad. I wuz just confused. Still am confused. When have I not been confused? Is admitting that I am confused freeing? Or stifling? I think about crowds of people and how I feel the most strange and out of place, alone, in those crowds. I think of the questions ex-school mates ask me when we bump into eachother in awkward public consumer situations. Questions like "What are you up to these days?" "How's your music?" And I don't want to be confronted by these people. Because I don't like the answers I have to give them. I just want to go to sleep. I think about the voices of people who live On My Side. People I always feel safe with. Who I always trust, and who always trust me. And they too turn on me. And I just want to sleep. And I wonder what the hell happened. What has NOT happened, that needs to happen? "Make it happen!" So many things waiting. What am I waiting for? Just sleep.
Oh how boring. Okay. I've got a few minutes left on this net connection. Sunshine, please. Quit yer damn whining. I have not even read over this freakin' grocery list of Reasons To Be Miserable, so don't blame me for... spelling mistakes. Or anything else. Holy mother of God, Kane you are ruining my moping train of thought! Trying to converse/type elsewhere as I type here... I think I'll go sign up for some college course. Just to get The Mother off my back. Good plan? I think so. I'm a genius.

Sleep well all.