30 January 2002 ~ I did good, dammit, and nobody cared, and sometimes I am so stupid...

I was outside having a well-deserved cigarette. ["Well deserved? Helena, cigarettes make you die!" ...hm. Whatever.] And I had this little daydream. Allow me to recreate it for you...

I was in a lake. It looked like Lake Tapps. I was directly in the center of it. I was trying to swim to shore. I knew there wasn't a chance in hell I could make it.

It wasn't Lake Tapps. It was just some anonymous lake. It wasn't white like Lake Tapps; it was black. Black, and warm, and I was naked. And I was filled with this fear, but also joy. I felt like smiling, because I felt beautiful, and I felt like everything else was beautiful too, though I didn't know what lake I was in, didn't know where I was, didn't have any idea what the hell I'd gotten myself into the middle of. I knew I was a weak swimmer, and I knew I'd never make it. But I had this hope, this vague hope for SOMETHING, and that was enough, and I kept swimming, and I felt ecstatic. I could see the stars.

I realized I wasn't going to make it, and I whispered to the lake: "don't let me drown; I haven't had the cherry pie yet." Those were the words I whispered to Lake Tapps when I supposed I was going to drown in that. But this was not Lake Tapps, and I drowned. The last thing I saw was the stars. Then, blackness. Warmth and blackness.

Today hasn't been a very good day. I went on a long, intellectual rant today (okay, yesterday) in seminar, because I'd actually read the book and knew what I was talking about, and nobody else really did. I was so proud of myself for speaking up, after all those dozens of times I let people push uninformed bullshit on me at the stupid Belmar. For once, I felt like I'd proved myself, if only in my head, to the worst of those fuckers. Until there was dead silence in the room, and then, simultaneously, everybody got up and left, and the instructor said, "well, we're getting out a little late today. See you tomorrow, guys." I did good, dammit, and nobody cared.

And I had a long, long phone conversation with Mike-O tonight. Mike-O is a really beautiful human being. But if I had any hopes of anything important beginning for us, they're gone now. I kind of thought something had started. I was evidently quite mistaken. But what can I say: I'm a sucker for sweet boys with brains, pretty eyes, a working knowledge of Lynchfilms and good music, and girlfriends back home. How stupid could I have been to have fallen for the old "coffee-and-a-Lynchfilm" trick anyway? I fucking invented that. Helena, you're so fucking stupid sometimes.

And I don't know where the woodpecker is that's usually in a tree near my building. I'd really developed an affinity for that woodpecker, but it's been gone for days now.

And my ATM card got destroyed. Thus, I have twenty dollars to last me until I get my loan. That might be another month. Maybe two. I don't know anymore.

I'm broke, I'm lonely, I don't know where my woodpecker is, I'm not feeling particularly smart, I can't sleep, and for the first time in my life -- the very first time since I was ten years old -- I don't feel like playing my very, very favorite "falling-asleep" music. Please, oh please, somebody let me go to sleep and wake up to find that today didn't really happen.

My room-mate just rolled over in bed or something. And for just a second, just a split second, it was the sound of Norman turning over in bed, and I wanted nothing more in the world than to wander over to him, and lay down next to him.

"Norman, do you love me?"
"Of course I do..."
"Will you sing me a song?"
"'Sweeeeeet Caroline----'"
"Thanks. That's all."

I'm going to bed. Somebody psychically sing me to sleep?

~Helena*

PS -- Oh yes, but before I got to bed, I have a little fire to set.... You wanna play with fire, little boy? You wanna play with Helena? Well, Helena's got a little fire to set. Let's just say it involves cherry pie. Helena'll give you all the details tomorrow...