mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary

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paper thoughts

Taken from paper journal-- entry dated 9-21-2006:
It's hard, you know, making changes or even trying to make them, seeing that there are huge glaring discrepancies between what your life is and who you are and what you want to have and be. I walked home from the library tonight and Water Street was alive with food smells and music and wandering young students who were probably as old as me or older but WEIGHTLESS, they seemed so fucking weightless. It hasn't always been so alive, Water Street, but the new businesses and the coffee houses and the NV State College classrooms have infused the area with new blood. Water Street no longer turns the lights out at 6pm; it stays up much later these days. I made plans to leave next year because I thought I was outgrowing home, but not it appears that home has not only caught up but is outgrowing me. I got home at 8pm and started the oven for dinner, and I thought how I always took dinner with my family for granted until I started eating alone more frequently. Something as small as that, so simple, eating with friends or family can help keep the lonelies away... and yes, I admit it, the lonelies are tugging at my ankles more than usual lately. It isn't that I don't have friends to fill my time-- I do-- but I have a shortage of genuine friends, friends with DEPTH. I miss Ed. I miss him next to me in the car with all of his regret and his anger and his passion and humor and lust for the world filling the space between us with a cloud of spider-silk filaments that made me feel connected to the world, even in the silence. I miss him screaming in my ear over the music on the dance floor. Mostly, I miss the connection. I miss that no matter where we went I could count on at least one person who would get it, who wasn't harboring something terrible under a pleasant exterior. Like Candi who works down the street, who bared her fangs for the first time last week when she told me she wasn't racist, but... Or the guy at work who called me a "bitter lesbian" when I responded to a thoughtless, sexist comment he made over coffee. I'm sick of people showing me the ugliness under their smiles, the racism and sexism and hate and sheer ignorance. It's too hard to maintain love and understanding for the people around me when they have none, themselves. I like to think that people are essentially good, that there is hope, but we have so much to focus on these days-- school and work and television and magazines and movie stars and music and trash novels and who drives the biggest, baddest car-- that little thought is given to ourselves. I know that I am a product of my culture and my environment and I'm never going to escape it because I AM it, so why should I hold anyone else to a different standard? BECAUSE IT'S ABOUT PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. I know what I am and I know that there are things so deeply ingrained in me that I will never be able to dig them completely out, but I also know that I can change, if I want to or if I need to. I can choose to be a product or I can fuck shit up a little and become something new.

10:34 p.m. - 2006-09-24

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