can i choose again if i should lose the reason?

every time i listen to fairest of the seasons, i find myself wishing i could just sit down and talk to nico.

i wonder how many times i can reject something before i can't accept it anymore. i wonder if all the not-so-bad people i shy away from will continue to linger on the edges of my existence, or if they'll decide i'm not worth waiting for and leave. i wonder, if i continue telling my best friend that i'm not as good of a person as he thinks i am, if he'll believe it one day. i wonder if i really continue to isolate myself, if i'll be able to remember how to socialize. i wonder if the line between my dreams and reality will continue to fade and if i'll ever be able to tell the two apart.

i wonder how much i have to allow myself before i can honestly say i don't want something.

it's weird that this song makes me think of all that. i'm pretty sure it's about deciding to leave a relationship while it's still good, before it has a chance to turn sour. that's probably what nico would say to all that. she'd say, "what does any of that have to do with my song?"

and i'd say, "nothing, really."

honestly.

the invisible noose of insinuation.

i've had this odd little conversational habit ever since i was a child. depending on who the other person is, it can be totally fine or completely offensive. basically, if someone says something and i don't think it deserves a response, i'll just sit quietly and wait for them to finish talking. there's always a teacher or two that hates this. my mother especially is offended by it. maybe she shouldn't have told me children are better seen than heard.

my aunt sat me down yesterday. she asked me why i was wearing a hoodie when it was so hot out. i said i was just used to wearing long sleeves, because i spent most of my summers at the library. most libraries are always air conditioned.. i don't know if she believed me or not. probably not. she started telling me about when she was a few years younger than i am right now. she said she used to be really skinny. ninety five pounds, even. she used to cover up because her knees were knobbly. her bones were sharp. i guess she must not have liked it much, because she gained enough weight to cover her bones. she even gained enough weight to cover the weight, overlapping layers and layers of flesh. she asked me if i was uncomfortable with my body. i smiled and said no.

it seemed as if she was trying to ask if i had body image problems. it wasn't until she told me i should take my hoodie off that i realized she actually thinks i'm cutting myself. i wanted to laugh in her face. i wanted to yell, "you're a little late. try eight years ago." i don't know why that bothered me as much as it did. i mean, i do carry a razor around, but that's just a force of habit at this point in time. when my body and brain disconnected in the middle of school last semester and they sent me off to a psych ward-- just to be safe, they said. just in case something's medically wrong-- no one there asked if i was a cutter. not even the woman who went through my wallet for my insurance card. she couldn't have missed my razor. nobody asked.

after all that, my aunt asked if i had a boyfriend yet. i said no; she said nothing for a few minutes. then she said not to worry, everyone has an awkward stage and i'd grow out of it eventually.

i think she's subtly trying to tell me i'm weird. i'm a little disappointed that it took her this long to realize that.

honestly.

deception's roots run deep.

i didn't sleep last night. at all.

i have no idea what i'm running on right now.

aside from one ten minute nap, i haven't had any rest today.

despite my lack of sleep, i went to my little cousin's recital. i didn't see her play, because i got there a bit late. but i did find out what a great actress i am.

"i'm too tired to eat, really. i feel like i'll be sick if i do." they almost believed that one. the people i was with. but in the end, they gave me a cup of fruits inside another cup and insisted i eat. so i did the only thing i could do. i took the empty cup, transferred some fruits into it, and hid the other cup in my bag. they really thought i ate it. and just to be sure i didn't have to eat anything else, i played the role of the sleep deprived child. yawns, teary eyes, and dull stares at my surroundings. i was really just going to my happy place. deep inside my mind. i had to. i've never liked the sound of other people chewing. i doubt i ever will. it's a bit gross. (chew all you want, but if i can hear your mouth opening and closing... please stop. please.)

threw out the leftovers of the fake cup of fruit at the place where the recital was. threw out the real cup of fruit when i got home. i had to keep up the tired act when i got home, just in case my aunt called to see how i was doing.

so i lied. i lied all day, the whole time i was with my aunt, so i wouldn't have to eat with her. "i had a huge breakfast." "i already have my dinner ready for tonight; it's at home." "i'm too tired to eat."

for someone who values the truth so much, it turns out i'm an amazing liar when i need/want/have to be.

honestly.

freedom.

last month, someone i considered a friend called me a compulsive liar because of something i told her. later, it turned out to be true. still, she wouldn't apologize. that irritated me. but i wouldn't let her see it. i sat quietly, expressionless, emotionless. even as she yelled at me that i was in her house, i couldn't ignore her, i had to say something, i stayed quiet. my reasoning was that she didn't deserve any response from me. so she told me i had to either say something or get out of her house. it was two in the morning. she lives far enough from me (and in a bad enough area) for a trip to be slightly dangerous at that time.

i left.

the trip home was uncomfortable. i was torn between irrepressible anger at her disrespect, a piercing sadness at another person disappointing me, and a sense of elation from not having shown either of those to her. i think i was probably more upset because her view of me was distorted, but not in the way i would have liked. i hate when people think i'm better than i am. i hate when people think i'm worse than i am. but i didn't want to tell her that. i couldn't. it just barely makes sense, even now.

i can say, i did lie to one of my friends the other day. indirectly, but i suppose that still counts. he gave me the fountainhead as a birthday present (mid february), and i only got around to reading it close to the end of the school semester (early may). he asked me if i liked it, and which parts i liked. i said i liked it because of two characters: roark and dominique. he began to ramble about all the finer parts of the book that i must have loved; i agreed with him. truthfully, though, i really only loved them because-- before i continue, just remember something must really be wrong with me. i mean that. something that's supposed to be there isn't. or maybe something that shouldn't be there is. (also, despite my best attempts to organize my jigsaw puzzled thoughts here, i'm not always sure i can do that in a way that makes sense to others. so i apologize in advance.) i really only loved them because they seemed to be so indifferent to food, people, emotions. at least, when i was reading it at first. yeah, the writing was great. the story was great. but those two were extraordinary. my friend said i had a bit of both of them in me, with more of dominique.

nothing else he's ever said to me made me that happy.

i'm pretty sure that reading that book wasn't the best thing in the world, at least for me. i'm sure anyone else could read it and stay totally normal. for a mentally unstable person such as myself, in a land where normal is already anything but, it was definitely not a great choice. i spent the first week devouring that book and drinking nothing but tea constantly. endlessly. headphones in, eyes on the pages. completely shut off from the outside world. when i finished reading it, i spent about two hours staring at my ceiling and thinking of all the effluvia i had to get rid of. all of the things i had previously believed were necessary that obviously people could live without. if a character in a highly realistic (and still fictional) novel can do it, why can't i?

it made me feel terribly dependent. since then, i've been on this never-ending quest to complete independence. some part of me knows that i don't really mean independence, i mean freedom. a degree of it that would probably lead right to my self-destruction. 

take, for example, something as simple as having my license. my mother said she'd buy a used car for me: one, because she knows i'd hate having to ask for the keys to her car; two, because i'd hate to feel guilty about having a new car, and; three, because our schedules and lives don't intersect unless i want them to, so i couldn't borrow her car. if i had my own method of transportation, i'd get a job so i could afford to keep my supplies stocked constantly. i'd stay at school longer, under the pretense of studying, because i won't can't don't eat there. i'd be so intoxicated with solitude, because i wouldn't need anyone to drive me anywhere. i could drive myself anywhere i wanted.

i love ayn rand's definition of freedom. to ask nothing. to expect nothing. to depend on nothing. 

that's my goal right now.

honestly.

typical me.

i've been dealing with a lot of stuff lately. or maybe i haven't. i don't know.

it seems like some of the people i allow myself to spend time with keep trying to figure me out. so when they get too close, i back off until they're done being curious. the other people i allow myself to spend time with turned out to be the worst of humanity, and threw me into a fear-induced state of sobriety. for the record, if you're ever at a small party and someone gets really drunk and makes a fool out of themselves, be nice. play along. if they blackout, let them forget and live their lives in peace. don't repeat the story and laugh about it. because if that person is anything like me (or in this case, if that person IS me), they'll laugh along and then hate themselves just a little bit more anytime they see you. the end result is either being so low on self-esteem they can't even pretend they believe in it anymore, or a sharp increase in social anxiety that turns that person into a hermit. or if they're really lucky, both.

maybe i'm too nice. there's that stupid saying, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. who the hell wants to catch flies? flies are disgusting. i always think to myself, maybe if i told people what i was really thinking, they'd understand me. but i don't think i'd like that. and neither would they.

none of that really matters.

i'm sure you'd like some good news.

i'm thisclose to getting my license. as soon as i had my permit, my mother took me to an empty parking lot and let me drive around. i may have been a little too experienced for her liking. maybe i was just driving too fast. you want know why i want my license? i want to be able to go to forests and go hiking, and just wander around for hours and hours in nature. without other people. i'm learning to appreciate solitude more and more. and upbeat tunes. and books.

somehow, my book list has once again swelled to demonic proportions. (that's the good news. not the license, the books. only the books matter.)

waterbear is probably spending time with saner people. i can only assume, since we haven't spoken since school ended. banana isn't talking to me, ever since her tongue-twisted fan girl made it clear that she can't have both of us in the same space at the same time. better to have the person around who worships the ground you walk on, right? yoshi is talking to me, but since we're both socially and emotionally retarded, it'll be another month at least until we hang out. if i even leave my house in that space of time. there are other people i could be around, but i'd rather not see them unless i have to.

i made the mistake of doing homework this past semester and getting good grades. therefore, i have successfully raised the expectations of those around me and unfortunately must either meet those (at the risk of the remains of my sanity), or choose to ignore them completely (at the risk of my already endangered self-esteem).

all in all, normal happenings in my life. people come, people go. people think you're an impossibly good person, people think you're a complete fool. i assumed an update of sorts would be proper, since i can't just keep vanishing for months at a time and saying, "hahaha, it's been a while <3". i could, but it's just not right. as far as updates go, my life isn't worth being updated on at the moment. in fact, it's not really worth anything right now. i'm basically in limbo. like that second between when you realize you have to sneeze, and the sneeze itself. it's just empty space. nothing's happening.

it's really quite dull.

honestly.