Today has been too weird and crazy for me. I found out way too many things, and now I can't sleep because I'm excited.

I should really stop using the internet. Seriously. I spend way too much time trying to look up things that leads to looking up other things. And now I'm on the verge of pursuing some contact information for someone I haven't seen in years, and it's really all so silly.

Something I have to share, as well as my response to the person who sent it to me:

http://observer.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,6903,1263753,00.html

You have no idea how glad I was to read that article. I really enjoy how catastophically humans view the decline of their reproduction. It's like the general public isn't aware of how over-populated the planet is. If Mother Nature is really to blame, as the article briefly hints, (even though, as the quote at the bottom states, Justin Woolford, a spokesman for the World Wildlife Fund, said: 'What we do to wildlife we ultimately do to ourselves,' then Mother Nature has ever right to be taking out the human population.

The ego of man kills me sometimes.

On another note, if species are evolving to females, and evolution, by Darwinist theory, is survival of the fittest, wouldn't it go to show that females are the supreme beings?

;)

There is something wonderful about Carol King. Namely, her album, Tapestry.

I feel so serene, and in love, and in peace with anything.

I also had a great conversation tonight.

Thank you.

I think suicidal thoughts are a good thing. They give you a great chance, every once in awhile, to put things in perspective.

For instance:

Right now, my life feels unproductive and wasteful. I go to class for four hours a day, every weekday, and listen to my classmates make jackasses of themselves, while not actually doing any sort of work. Then, I go home, and sit in front of my computer until I'm tired enough to go to bed and start the cycle over again.

I think about killing myself just to get out of the mundane. My life has become an uninspired cycle of nothingness. Even when I make plans to do thing, to break the mold, they fall through because in this day and age you need money and a mode of transportation to do anything. I have neither.

I can't get a job, because I'm in school between 1st and second shift, and if I got a third shift job, I'd never sleep, and I probably wouldn't be able to get myself there anyway.

I sat in front of my computer today, not even going outside to the basement to do laundry, because the neighbors were having a party and I didn't want them to see me...doing nothing.

I'm drinking a Malibu and pineapple, alone, because I don't know what else to do.

i'm trying to think of messed up things I can do in the Sims2, because I've been playing it so much it's getting boring.

I've organized Eric's life so much, he really doesn't need me, but at the same time, he wouldn't be able to survive very long without me.

I'm debating on whether or not to link this on my AIM again, bouncing between my desire to be heard and my desire to keep it all private.

I don't like anyone to know more about me than I know about them. I like to think I'm an open book, but I really don't want anyone to get inside. You can really mess a person up from the inside. I know. I've been told I've done it.

I think about people from my past, and sometimes wonder what it would be like to have them in my present. Read: Josh.

Since I'm drinking anyway.
My relationship with him was very unstable. We couldn't work us out. Immaturity maybe. But now I think I'm wiser, but I shouldn't because I think about him.

It's fucked up because I have someone great in my life, who is totally taking care of me. Maybe it's the curse of needing to know. Why can I have this great, working relationship now, but I couldn't before?

I think it's because we need eachother. That's right, NEED. You can need someone on a level that doesn't mean you stop breathing when they're gone, though, if you care enough about them, when it's over, part of you holds your breath anyway...

Fuck.

I need a life.

I have two more days of sitting around my house, being my bitter self, before I can go back to sitting in a classroom being bitter with a room full (not really full) of people I really don't respect anyway.

I don't respect many people. No one does anything incredible anymore. And because I'm thinking about suicide, you can say I don't really respect myself either, so fuck off.

I don't though. No one gives a shit, and if they do, they don't show it, or they don't do anything, atleast they don't when it really counts.

Don't cry over shit like 911, or your family member going overseas. Shit happens. People are meant to die, that's why we do. It's the particularly stupid people that do shit like sign up for the military, when, *gasp* they are signing up for the chance to die for their piece of shit country.

I'm bitter and drinking.

Fuck.

I told Eric this weekend that I'm bitter. He said he knows. He said I'm not always, but he's accepted it. He says car rides bring the worst of it out. I used to love driving my car, it was the moment of solitude that was refreshing. Now it's typically car sickness, or bored conversation, or dependency. Either way, I'm never alone anymore.

I'm bitter.

*takes another swig*

If I had the right fabric, I'd be created some new clothes for myself. Just something to be creative. I'm sick of this uselessness.

I'm sick of everything.

I'm bitter.

Why do I want to be heard? Who wants to hear this shit? No one gives a shit.

Fuck.

I'm bitter.

The end.

If there is a word, and I'm not just talking about Nihlists, if there is a word to describe the void which I am feeling, I am that word. I don't care, and I feel nothing.

Empty, yet fulfilled. At peace, even, with this sensation.

Taking out the Trash: a flash into memories.

That's what deleting old emails is really. I went back to 2001, cleaning out my mailbox. The last one, still undeleted, from my CA at NIU. She's giving the girls on the floor directions for using the bathroom. It was classic and hilarious.

I also saw my life through three boyfriends while cleaning house. Most of which were also deleted, unless they were some funny quote I have to save.

Others from friends I no longer talk to. That's the weirdest. Especially because none of the emails were ever negative. All fond memories from friends of long ago.

There was one from Brian N. It's a metaphor for why he and I will probably never click as friends. We just can't get over our history, which, is largely who we are to eachother today.

Maybe the same goes for anyone in my life. You either keep going with what you have (friendship), evolve with it, or say goodbye when it's gone.

Who do I think my current, for real, friends are now? Let's see:

Eric: we get along almost better as friends then lovers.
Kiel: Because we do still sort of hang out, when possible.
Bret: Cause we're totally getting married.
Jess: Cause we totally are married.
Brian T: We've made it through many good times and some bad times, but I think it will only stand to make us solid friends.
Vince: One of the only Hollywood people I still hang out with, and hopefully it will be more frequently.
Andrew: Cause I know if I try harder, we would hang out more often.
Kori, Robyn, Adam: They might make it past Olympia, Adam probably the most, Kori next.

Anyone else, I'm sure, on a Sims level is more just an aquaintance at this point. I don't keep in touch with anyone, and it's totally my fault. I get caught up in what's going on with my life, and well, begin broke and carless doesn't help.

Which reminds me, off topic, I might be getting a temporary shit car soon. Only $525 and well, it's a neon but if it runs, and will last like four months, I'll be golden. I just have to hope it happens. Cause if it does, I'm going to make plans to go hang out with everyone I need to, one night each, for two straight weeks.

I think that would be very good.

Turn email ghosts into something concrete.

I'm going to an audition this weekend. Somehow.
It's in Lisle, but I'm really excited about it. There is a role for a Russian actress from the 3's/40's in it. I love just saying her name in an accent, 'Reveka, Reveka.'

I'm already thinking about what I could wear.

Although, I really don't like the audition piece. I don't want to audition for the role of a weenie heart sick girl, I want to audition for the role of a commanding enchantress. I want to have lines that end in the tone of HA! You pathetic Fool!

I want to bring a thunder to the stage with her presence.

So now I just have to figure out how to make lightning strike with a weenie girl...

Thanks to Kori, Marilyn Manson has been in my head for days. Not actual Marilyn Manson, but his cover of Tainted Love.
'I love you though you hurt me so.'

Why do I get this feeling, this burning need to hold someone's affection. It's never the someone I have around me. It's always a someone from my past. Someone, maybe, whose affection I never really had.
Then there is the mystery, the poetry, the romance, of an unsolved love affair. At first, I thought it was song lyrics, even now, I still hope that's the case, because then I could listen to the song. But then I wonder, what if it was more. What if it was something momentous that I missed out on. It seems though that all my romances, as well as some of the great fictional ones, involve a missed connection. That's the key, isn't it? Leave them wanting for more.

I'm current unsatisfied. I am trying to fulfill myself, but in the process of change, pain lingers. At first, it will be someone else's pain, then it will be my own, then, the longing. The longing always follows. Maybe not for everyone, but for everyone worth considering.

If I try, I know none of this has to happen, but if I don't do anything, I'll be right here, with the flame waiting for burn so bright, and the dreams untold.

Follow through, finish something, accomplish a goal. Maybe I feel so hollow because I am empty inside. Maybe if I can fill myself up with somethingness, I won't feel so useless.

Definition. I need less 'I don't knows,' 'maybes,' and 'what ifs.' Why can't more be less?

Even now, as I write, there is a sense of lacking. There is some great note I'm trying to write, some great epiphany I'm trying to gain, and all that I feel is hidden. More secrets.

Last night the urge to write hit me. I should write more. I know there is something in me. Always something trying to get out.

Maybe I can write here. Turn all my energies into words. Words of longing. Maybe I should just write. Write for me, because in the end, that's who really cares.

I care. I care for something I can't define. Words have no meaning when pure emotion is involved. I feel.

I feel.