The weather is full of dejection so I put Tori's "wedding performance" on, because it's so happy, I thought maybe I will be too..it's so weird to move from Kate to Tori..I wonder how can people ocmpare between these two, it's like the moon the the sun..I wonder who's the one which returns the sun's light, which one is in the day and which one is shown in the night.

For two whole days I was listening nonstop to Kate's "The dreaming", and I can only say "wow".
School was ok..no more and no less. I decided not to try and take too much on my back, I will study in a way that won't hurt my soul. It will be so hard..auch..the thought makes my head spin, or maybe only my eyes are rolling in their pink circles.
When Odelya can't talk I find myself doing nothing because I really *can't*. I can't talk to anyone but her, I find everyone else something that I don't want, because they don't fit me, and they can never fit themselves to my changing moods. I am in the computer against my will, or watching T.V for 2 seconds, get bored and coming back to my room and thinking, where am I? I need her, she's the only one who I can tell my nonsense to, I can't be anything I'm not and she's the only one who doesn't ask me to be something else.
( oh ahhh...Tori's singing "it's a happy day", how low can you get? ) I wrote a while ago that I have no space for others and that's exactly the situation, I have *no* room and I won't ket anyone go in, all I need is a green outside and warmth inside, I have to feel , even if it's the worst feeling, because *feeling* is much more than apathy. Sometimes I can be a stranger to my pain and pretend it's not there. But it is, biting pieces of me while I'm driving to the city and back leaving that pain alone, I let it eat while I'm gone. I'm not always me, sometimes I'm trying to build a thousand of walls infront of me so that I won't get hurt to omuch again. This thickness makes me believe that I'm not hurt anymore because the freezing breeze of melancholy can't get through these walls. but when I forget to protect myself I'm vonerable again, I can feel again, and even 1000 walls can't stop the wind from blowing.. it blows through me, my bones like air and my skin like transparent glass. They're after my soul. no, I won't let them...
too late..
[.listening to "icicle" now...]
I'm cold, it's raining..why is that?
I asked my father to fix me a cup of tea, and he did, it's here infront of me, but it's too hot...shall I try and risk my tongue? let it get burned again? let is spit fire? hmm....I cross my fingers...ok, I will do it.

Bwah! no sugar! ok...it was obvious.. I have no power to get up and get me some sugar, it will do then. Oh these puddles in the tea as I blow to cool it down are so marvelous, so many shapes and movements, they're never still, it's always in motion, water are not silence people, they can make you death sometimes. I have to say though that I really love to see them moving..and sometimes I even see me in the tea's surface, a reflection that is not real but still sweet...I always look inside the glass when I drink. Maybe I'm paranoid and maybe I just love to look at the colors and the mirror in there, I'm so little there, I can drink myself until I'm gone...
Then I'm in me, safe, but still in "me"...so again, where am I? who's the drinker? and who's the one who was drunk? a mystery.
" I'm over the bridge now..."
I don't want to do anything...not even to write these words. I'm scanning my room, looking for something to do, but there is none. Even my dolls refuse to look at me since I've stopped playing with them so long ago, so what do I do now wanting them back? I have no monopoly on them anymore, I pushed them away, now they are not mine anymore. I'm such an exploiter, only when I need them I look at them, on other days I don't even bother to cover them up when it's cold, I only take myself a blanket and solve algebra problems.. if I were them I would hate myself, yes, shame on me really...I should be ashamed. I don't think they hate me though, the monkeys couple looked at me without any intention and they smiled,
these dolls, they're so much better than us humans, they forgive a lot faster, just give them a hug and you have their love forever.

"Under the pink" is definitely the best music ever written...still..pretty good year

sometimes my head sometimes hurts so bad or my neck, I try to move it but it hurts, I can't stop it, it's like giddiness but..I don't know, it's worse, it never passes away until it stops...I don't know what it is...maybe I'll know someday. It has just happened to me (I use "just" too much...damn my vocabulary) and I couldn't see, I just took my hand to the tea cup, thinking it will help, believing in it. And it did...
again, I wonder.

I never saw an undertaker...I wish I could talk to one of these men, who are they? why are they undertakers? can they feel? can they fear? oh who they are..these undertakers...
I was quite a lot in graveyards. We always go to visit my grandmother, my grandfather { I never called them "grandma" or "grandpa", I didn't know my grandfather and I loved my grandmother, they taught me to turn to her in her name "Elza" (the 'a' is expressed as some sort of O in hungarian) and that's what I did...I guess it was to hard for me to say "grandmother" in hungarian when I was little...they were such fools.}, my cousins' grandfather, and more family members or old neighbors..all buried in one graveyard. I saw there graves with names and a date that said 1961-1962, or 1982 September-1982 October...why are they taken in such a hurry? why are they reaped from their loving parents? Can they know when it happens? can they say their last prayre? can they think ? Can they feel? Can they....live...
And the Jewish graveyard in my parents' old city is never visited. Almost everyone left, it stands there isolated, only one lady is standing there, doing her job although she knows no one will come. I wanted to go and visit my grandmother's parents but my father didn't want to go, no one ever goes to visit them.. can they know that? Can they know that I'm thinking about them? oh..I will go to visit, to see the gray rocks..I don't know why but I will go, what is a rock anyway, it's the soul, but there it's ok to speak to them - and now?

I don't want to be rinsed with black water, I want to be happy, I want to be lofty and high and I want to know that it's ok that I don't know anything. I'm asking myself what does it mean that a person is wise..or I mean, when is he wise? I don't know anymore, it's beyond my comprehension- these days I can't know, I can only feel . It is not such a virtue I know..never said it was.
oh, I got 90 in my history test, isn't it unbelievable? I thought I will fail the damn thing..
I never believe in me.. but others do, what makes them believe in my ability while I'm not sure of it at all? Can they see something that I don't? I won't want to see me in anyone's eyes.. it might be scary to be uglier or even more beautiful than I really am. Because I see myself and that's how I always see myself, how I know myself. And seeing myself in another view will make me lose ground, I won't know who I am, I will feel something that I'm not. There's a reason for me having my own eyes and there's a reason for them being our first object of the world's understanding. As we understand everything differently, that's how we see...*we* how can I know? I never saw anything in another's eyes. But still, on some things almost everyone agree, that they are beautiful or ugly, even the bad ones agree. what does it say? I have no idea. Too many question marks, don't you think ?

I should go, I have nothing to do here
The leaves are falling off and I need to pick them up before the tree is naked

Natalie.