10.08.02 - 1:15 am

been drinking too much coffee and eating too much sugar. life goes in cycles, no?

at 1pm i was in my pajamas lounging in bed with a big cup of coffee with sugar and soymilk. i was reading (still reading song of the lark after a hiatus, almost done now), and also just staring into space, and also admiring the pine tree that covers the entire front of my dorm. i feel like i live inside the pine tree. it is most of what i can see out my window.

it was breezy and the breeze came into my window. some people were sitting outside. he was out there playing guitar and singing a song he likes about bombing korea. i like how much people change when they perform. some people, their whole personality changes when they get with their guitar, or when they get behind a microphone. quiet people become loud. wounded people become confident.

later he came in my room and we talked about sex for a long time. this seems to happen when he's around. i think he's torturing himself somehow, intellectually irritating his own undirected lust. he sat around in my bed smelling like incense and using his tongue to form words about coitus. it would be a flirtation, a problem, but for the fact that i'm really past the time of my life where i fuck people just because i can, because they're around, because it would be interesting, because i could write about it later, because i can't think of a better way to know them. i can think of a better way to know him. experimentation that ends in damage and drama is too time consuming. i'd rather read. if it was two years ago i'd be in his bed right now doing something sloppy.

this job i have here, it really makes my fingernails dirty.

tonight we sat in a huge field watching the beginnings of the meteor shower. he showed me the stars he knows and i showed him the ones i know. he told me that in mexico the stars look so close that you feel like you could reach up and grab one and put it in your mouth. i'd caught him on his way to the cafe to find her. he doesn't really want to find her though, he just wants to find someone. but maybe later when i left him there under the stars, he resumed his trajectory toward her. i won't know until he tells me in whispers a week from now, confused, childish, ashamed maybe and covering it with detached prattle. or maybe nothing that complex, just telling me.

i feel serious, discerning, unyeilding, impatient, unknown, cold, and desperate for a way to balance those emotions. systems are shutting down. i'd like to feel a childlike joy and wonder. i'd like to be so joyous and feel so lucky that the only response is to give myself orgasms. i'd like to feel cradled, warm, safe, and loved. right now things just feel tough and i feel tough too.

i just had a moment of contempt for my stupid bright hair. it's so lame and cloying. what am i doing? why do i need to be so obvious? HEY LOOK AT ME AREN'T I COUNTER CULTURE WITH MY TATTOOS AND BRIGHT RED HAIR? ugh. it's not even that i'm pissed at myself for outwardly manifesting my alignment with subcultures, it's that i don't get why i can't do it in some understated or more serious way. i guess it just goes back to me feeling serious and severe. the hair really isn't cutting it. i want to dye it black and sit around snarling and judging other people. that's the mood.