2:32 a.m. | 2003-12-24
Not in the mood
I don't like rants. I don't like sitting on my soap box all the time and telling people which way is up. For fuck's sake, we're probably in some ball that just spins, there is no up. I'm still going to voice a bit though:
I really don't like christmas. I don't like what it entails, I don't like the way I'm forced to be with my family, and yet when I have kids I'm determined to make sure they know that christmas is a good time, it can be fun, and pretty, and enjoyable. I want traditions that don't make them cringe, I want them to be able to play, but value family. I want a lot of things.
That's not at all what's on my mind, though. I sit here at 2am to complain about christmas, something I had actually looked forward to, and instead I'm sitting here contemplating what the fuck I'm going to do with the rest of my life, who I'm going to dissapoint, and what I'm going to fuck up.
I could go to CU, but where would I live? I mean I could live with Connie...but would I shoot myself? I could live in the dorms again, easier to meet people I guess, but would that be wierd? I could get an apartment, but would dad be ok with that? I could stay in Boston, but I'd have to declare a major, and that seems impossible at this point. Would CU accept me again? Is it too late to apply as a transfer? It can't be...can it?
I'm really worried about more than that, though. What about Jamie? I'd feel terrible leaving her. Absolutely terrible. I mean I know she'd love me and all, but I'd feel horrible! Not to mention Colin or Ian or any of the people I've become close to here. Ian was so sweet when I left...and he genuinely said he would miss me. Crap. Can I leave that? If I leave that will I find that again? If I move to an apartment, will I find that? Will I get sucked back into IB High School shit?
FUCK. I don't want to make a decision. I could always take a year off. Figure out what the FUCK I wanted to do, and then I could go on with things. Back in Boston or not. Sitting up and thinking about these things makes me feel a little bit better. But not knowing that I won't be able to think about this for quite a few more days.
Tomorrow comes the eventful "Christmas Eve" where we all think there's so much to do, but in reality--it's nothing. I have to wrap a few leftovers, clean one room, and I'm done. Literally. My grandmother is freaking out because I guess in her mind, it would take a lot of time. Sure if I was pushing 70 and couldn't breathe--it would. I'm not pushing 70. And I can breathe.
After that comes Christmas, which I always get a little excited for. But then it's just pushed down the drain. I cried last year. I drank, and I cried because my uncle was being mean to me, tormenting me, and just being horrid. I don't even like to think about it.
And even better is that this once glorious and well written entry on why Christmas sucks has been diluted to me asking no one questions.
Fuck it all.
Don't try to contact me, I won't be in reach...I'm figuring shit out.
I wasn't going to be around, remember? I was gonna run and hide. We all know that ain't me, though. If you feel the urge to read, there's a real sweet comment from my Jamie down there. But even worse is what I read in her diary. This hurts, people, it hurts a lot:
I gag when I think about his breath that smelled like sour milk, his stubble that hurt my face, and his fumbling groping and clumsy hands�
I didn�t want this.
I never wanted this.
And yet, I closed my eyes and let him.
I let him because he wanted me.
I don�t even want me.
Shit, how could I be so stupid?
Merry fucking Christmas
Kiddies, this is what I read, this is what upsets me more than anything, listen to her! Kids...you can hear the hurt. You can hear the background that follows her. You can hear how much it digs at her, almost as if she's telling you and her face is downcast, like she hates herself. You could see her pulling away, and that scares me. Granted she did not grow up in a regular family, there's unusual hurt there. And I hate it, a ton. God it hurts some days, ya know kids? This just adds tons to the Christmas spirit.
Fuck that lack people, fuck that lack. And for explanation on that--read another day, I can't handle it anymore.
Signing Off--Lauren
