date: february 17, 2001
time: 8:00 a.m.
listening to: nothing, but israel's son by silverchair is in my head.
talking to: nobody's on at this time
feeling: iieee
wearing: plaid boxers, grateful dead tee and hoodie
gah! i had a daniel dream this morning! yes yes yessssss. i woke up at 7:30 all giggly about it. i wasn't going to write in my notebook about it, cause i'm a lazy schiesse head, but i decided to, in case i fell asleep again and didn't remember it to tell chrissy. here's what i wrote.
chrissy and i were @ a silverchair "concert." it was a tiny room, with beige carpetting, and it reminded me of someone's bedroom. daniel was a little taller than me. me and chrissy pushed our way up against the guardrail, so we were in "first row." they played songs, maybe israel's son. ana's song began and daniel was staring at chrissy for a good length of time @ the beginning of it. then i remember looking down and he was laying on the ground below me, looking up as i leaned over the rail. i started fake crying, going, "no daniel, don't" as he smiled up at me. chrissy was looking over and goes, "oh schiesse, everyone leave him alone, he doesn't like being crowded" even though i was the only one "crowding" him. then he stood up and the song was still on the music part, but he wasn't playing. my hands were a little over the guardrail and he smiled, looking at my bracelets. he ran his fingers over the ballchain one i had on my right arm, smiled, and picked up my left hand, twirling the barbed wire jelly with his fingers. back to the right arm again, which now had 3 black jellies and two red sparkley ones. he fingered them and looked up @ me while sliding off off a black one. i nodded my approval and he slid it onto his skinny right wrist. then he put a jelly in my hand, a red sparkley one like mine. "is this mine??" i asked, but knew it was his [that he was giving me]. i was debating whether it was, and looked @ my wrist and i had 3 sparkley ones on then, letting me know he gave it to me. he looked like he was going to come back again to explain, but he just sang into a mic behind him. @ this time (after he left me) he was wearing that sparkley silver jacket - before he was wearing a dark buttonup shirt. before he had "neon ballroom" hair, after it was long again.
and that's my dream. +squeal+ why was i FAKE crying? i don't know... because it'd make him feel bad and he'd get up and not do whatever bad thing i apparently thought he was going to do. he never spoke the entire time, just smiled softly, it was kinda creepy. oh well.
alright i'm going back to bed (hopefully), but i just wanted to put that in here. later.
time: 1:37 p.m.
listening to: nothing, but israel's son by silverchair is in my head.
talking to: nobody's on
feeling: confused
i just called nevie's cell number to see what was going on with her coming to my house this week... she was s'posed to call today, but you see, i'm very impatient, lol, so i just decided to call her. anyway, her old house number is being rerouted to the cell phone, so she told me i can call that... i called and some guy answered, and he said there was no one who ever lived there by the name nevia to reroute it. i was like, "what the hell..." it was the correct number and everything. and now i can't get a hold of her to see what the hell's going on with her coming up here this week, and i'm having all these paranoias about her trying to cut me off as her friend.
yes, i really am that paranoid.
people generally do get paranoid about it when the person is their best friend... or maybe it's just me. probably just me. cause now i've got all these crazy ideas stuck in my head, and i honestly don't know why. i've been so paranoid lately about it. that everyone hates me... which i guess is partly true, anyway. margo was one, and i'm basically just a a chore for other people. i don't know...
i hate feeling this way.
and i really wish nevie would get online or something, but i understand she's busy, they just moved... but i'm all impatient and have no control over it, lol, so it's driving me crazy. no fault but my own, nope nope.
ew i'm being so stupidly boring. adding more later (once again).
time: 8:34 p.m.
listening to: sleeping beauty by a perfect circle
talking to: nicole
feeling: disappointed and sad
wearing: jeans and zztop shirt
you think you know know someone. that they aren't going to fuck you over just like everyone else. you think they're your best friend.
do you know how much it hurts to be so painfully wrong?
no, because you probably don't let people lie to you and just sit by, naive, believing it. i, however, am fucking stupid and did just that. ignored all the warnings from everyone. hell, i evened mentioned it once and it was confidently pushed away.
besides, she was my best friend, why would she lie to me?
i don't know either. she said i was her best friend, she loved me. but that must have been another one of her lies. because it doesn't seem feasible to me that someone who supposedly loved you so much would do something to you like that. i don't understand.
this morning, after that first call i got thinking... and usually when i feel so sick about something, it isn't wrong. gut feeling. yeah. but i wanted so bad for it not to be true, for her not to hurt me so much, that i tried to make excuses. i called again, and someone who sounded like her "ex-boyfriend" answered and i asked for her by her commonly-used name, but to no avail, she wasn't there. then i called and her gramma answered. i asked her if she had heard any thing about her coming up here or not.
i'm sorry, i haven't heard anything about it. visiting in michigan? nope, never mentioned. no, we're not moving? i'm sorry. she's in orlando right now, we're expecting her back tomorrow.
the surgeries. why she couldn't go to tulsa. why i didn't get a box. it's all making sense now and fuck, i hate it. i hate it so much and i've never felt so fucking empty in my life. never. and i've never felt so alone and so betrayed.
i'm sorry for whatever i did to you to make you want to do this to me.
i think i'm going to get a journal at diaryland.com since i'm a fucking fag and want to be like everyone else.
whatever. i want to die.