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march 27, 2000
two nights ago we turned cartwheels in the grass...the first time in years for some of us. it was such a comfortable situation, and the simple fact that none of us had ever seen each other before did not prevent us from talking like we had been friends for as long as any of us could remember. and strangely the air felt warmer late at night than it did under the afternoon sun.

march 17, 2000 watch out, she's gonna blow...
the liberties you take of me are far from being yours. it simply disgusts me to think of how much of a hypocrite you are, your ears refusing to hear a word i say as your mouth spouts off your undying respect for my thoughts. you know nothing of the contents of my mind or my life, yet you think i have some kind of special chair for you inside my head, where you can sit so that i can think of you all day long. you and all your intellectual, open-minded, all-accepting-ness that you have tried so hard to shove down my throat.
what is open-minded about assuming that just because a girl is your friend, that she wants to have sex with you? tell me, cause i wanna know! tell me why someone would keep trying to "put the moves" on a girl who has declared so much love to another person! especially when that said girl told that said someone about it *numerous* times. just because i go to a movie with someone DOES NOT mean i want them to try to mess with my hand the whole time we're there! i don't care how bad the movie with your own &#@^! hand! and just because i am nice to someone DOES NOT mean that my new goal in life is to relocate permanently to that gorgeous little place just below his belt! and the fact that i am a small girl who does not like to hurt people does not mean that i am an overdependent waif who cannot fend for herself. you talked of my "little independent streak" tonight as if it were something i should be ashamed of. in reality, the only thing in the entire world i was ashamed of at that moment was standing right in front of me with a puzzled expression on his face. that ridiculous countenance was an inventory of all those little annoyances from the past year, now combined to create a slow-burning rage in the back of my skull. it makes me angry that a person like this can even exist, and even angrier at the society that produced him. because he actually believes it's a-ok to touch me, and to try (always in vain) to make me leave the one i love, and even to go into my car, open up the hood, and check my oil...AFTER i said i could (and was going to, later) do it myself...TWICE!! the rage burns hotter every time i think about it. i am still a card-carrying member of "the weaker sex" in at least one person's eyes. there is still one person who has no reservations about treating me like a helpless sack of meat, and one person who wonders why i am "always so mad lately" afterwards. there is even a person who thinks that, since he thinks something is ok, so should i..automatically. -sigh-
i don't even know what to say anymore. all i see is anger and i hate being angry. and i hate being viewed as an object, a fixture, a trophy. and while i don't hate any people, i can still despise the things they do and the thoughts they think. just like they can trivialize those parts of me.
i just want to scream. and scream. and scream...for change.

march 16, 2000
black holes have such intense forces of gravity that they can even pull stars from their places in the sky and plunge them into their depths. and there are so many things going in that they have to funnel down like water swirling into a drain. they spin and spin but seem to go nowhere, as everyday things give way to a secondís image of space..and a second is forever to a distant observer.
to park at our pizza hut, one must swirl through an accretion disc of pavement and gravel and 6-inch concrete walls. late at night when there is nobody on the road, this city forgets the others and belongs only to me. and on that sharp turn when there are no cars to block my path, i spin fast and fall in like a little star.
turning...and grinding little pebbles deeper into the blackness underneath me. the air from the open window catches my hair, trying to persuade it to fly away with the nightís wind.
turning...the darkness feels like freedom, a moment's flash of being on the edge of control..
and turning around i see that the speed of the day's blinding light is not fast enough to overtake me.

march 13, 2000
i don't know what i should do, because the things i want to do are already being done by other people. either that or the people in charge don't want me to be one of the people doing the things i want to do. and confusion and anxiety are reigning in my mind even though they are two of my least favorite feelings. i am confused as to why people would beg and beg for help, only to put so many locks on their doors that no one can get in to give them help. and i'm anxious because i seem to always get that way when the plans i have planned begin to de-plan themselves. something tells me that now is a good time to curl up in my he-man sheets and close my eyes. maybe it's a good time, too, to think about the tasty dinner i made tonight and the decent sounds coming out of my horn afterwards, instead of about the hicks who "run things 'round these parts." yikes.

march 12, 2000
you two give the world a different all looks crackly and intense, like it would though lain's eyes. and your soundtrack pounds through my thoughts, focusing them to the point where you can almost see the texture of every idea. it's easy to think in such circumstances. eyes darken into deep, penetrating little globes, but then close in total relaxation. and all that is familiar is put aside even if for just a little while. acuteness of absent thought, flying through showers of darkness and watching lines of trees envelop us like walls.

march 8, 2000
it was an awakening, like when the tiny buds on the trees burst open into big pink flowers and fresh new leaves. during those few moments, new life was breathed into the dusty corners that rarely see the brightness of the sun.

march 7, 2000
for a long time i haven't even known what day it is..seems that is how you get when your life is spent staring at books. there are people behind me talking about playing, making me wish that was all i had to do every day. wake up, eat a huge bowl of cheerios, and play and play and play. it would be nice to do like sonny rollins or something..just go off somewhere and play for a long time, and then come back and blow everyone away. but as for this week, studying how other people play is all there is to be done. i wonder why things have to pile on top of each other so much; it seemed like just last week everything was relaxed and there was nothing to worry about doing. it could be the fact that i like to push things aside until the last minute. so it's like my desk at home..i just push stuff to the side until it all falls off the edges and i have to stop and pick it all up again.