Through anguish we sense this Nothingness, from which erupts everything that is, and into which everything threatens at every instant to crumble and collapse.
if this hits you, you and i might have something.
as a result of adam and his boyfriend, whom i like, and shawn and his ~ex visiting my work friday night, the mexicanos distrusted that saturday i was sick in actuality. merely went home to bed, tired/dizzy/nauseous, but tossed and turned until i rose to vomit while adam slept. in the morning, must have just missed one bus in the morning, so- idiotically no matter how i went about it- i waited nearly two hours in the cold until shivering uncontrollably, feeling i couldn't maintain homeostasis like a proper mammal, wanting to throw up. gave up finally; called in. walked back home to have a table of males- alex, corey, patrick, james- playing cards in my living room, them having waited until i left to arrive. adam needs me displaced to have the social life he wants so that he's not worrying about me suffering from its insignificance, and i'm sure his friends were none too pleased that i had returned, either. i had been grateful outside, which is to say i was taking nothing for granted, knowing i was experiencing a slight episode as contrasted with the homeless. coming inside, however, killed my spirituality (the gaming atmosphere and fighting about it) until i read the aforementioned passage from the book charles loaned me. yesterday edgar gazed downward as he ranted almost angrily in profile to me, talking in spanish to no one in particular. i knew it concerned me, adam, and saturday and outright asked what he was saying, but julian only translated it after he'd walked away- he blamed sexual exhaustion in more or less words, that adam and i had fucked too much that night. would have been entirely rational assume i had been out partying all night, but it seems my managers know me too well to have thought that. nothing compared with others' hours, but i had already put in my forty and then some by the time i closed friday, so at least i wasn't accused of laziness, wanting the normal saturday/sunday weekend. it's just so typical, and worsening, that i'm intellectually negated by the language barrier and sexually harassed- every and all shift. realized i'd be more at ease being a newbie in an utterly new place than remain at this one, already knowing i'm tired of my job having learned everything and having no real friends (will) around even peripherally anymore.
thanks for the thought of coming to see me, even if i was only embarrassed. also, hanging out like you college kids do isn't my thing; don't remember speaking about anything that mattered, not all of it even making sense. adam believes i'm too concerned with my time having a point. i'm miles away from talking down to anyone because i'd give so much to be out of my head hallucinating from sleep deprivation during finals week, to be in your places that all you do is bitch about. despite uab not meeting the expectations i had for college, you guys kill my soul to take it for granted, to fuck around having goddamn playdates everyday when there's important shit that you're paying out the ass for. it's called hope for the future. see what it's like when you have none. why do you so rarely/shallowly write about what you're studying? i used to like mad. what is this personality cult? a tone of moral superiority creeps into my writing, but while i'm no better than you, i'll whine when i think you're being less than yourself.
all i have is curiosity and the realm of becoming. other than that, yesterday morning i sorted out my and adam's laundry, finding towels, socks, and underwear took up the most volume and washed them all, three loads hauled down and up the hill because 1. i'm a sucker for pain 2. it felt productive and was indeed necessary at some point 3. i wanted to please adam (he stayed out and didn't really notice...). wrote in my notebook (which, for the first time, i really want to thank kush for- now that his gift has come into its own for me) about what i believe about my own indulgences and other subjects, until a text message from my manager that he wanted me to come in early. soon as the towels were down, took them home and changed and had to run to the bus stop to make it -just- in time.
instead of a narcissistic quiz (can you say i know you if i don't know about a question, if it concerns your involvement with another person or scene or time excluding me, if i don't want to be scored numerically on my attachment to you? if only your "new friends" or gamer friends would know?), i have a theory and challenge. i think that the inability to recall all one's life, to have it hazed over and taking effort to remember, is a neurosis, a self-defensive tactic to block past pain. whenever you're waiting in line, etc., start at any point and just remember all you can, wild tangents welcome. dusting off everything i've forgotten for years, urging myself to not shy away from what i'd rather never happened... separately, i found a children's book online that i'd forgotten, and urged adam to find one from his past. his was significantly cooler and obscure, harder to track down on the net- actually one i'd want to read.
initially thought i was speechless as far as an entry, leaving it all to my journal, just bitter disgust that kiki discourages adam every time he does a sincere post, the poem (@};-) i didn't know about and others. my retroactive revenge is having eaten her all her takeout (didn't know at the time). hate makes me subhuman (very human but lacking in humanity), and i value myself somewhat less because of it even as it's so determined and hardcore ideologically driven. finishing my breakfast. have to drag my ass out into the world rather than sojourn in pages.
so much going down around the world; some online movies i want to watch- on claremont road (old news but still) and others- when my speakers are set right again.
rxn: 
"abandoned"/insular/missing...
lullaby: speakers...?
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serenely_lost's journal
thirsty
okay
anxious
comfortable
pluvial
productive
