one morning you awoke

& the strange sun

& opening your door

this is the present.

that tuesday is the past. my mood plummeted two days later. it was the untimely not-quite rejection, it was my voice and i had a solo to sing, it was my voice and i couldn't reach the notes like i usually did, it was me and my brain, it was me and my existence, it was everything, and it was nothing at all. cue existential crisis that triggers tears. real ones, i think, unsure of why they were falling. one minute i was sneezing by the paper towel dispenser in the bathroom. the next i was sobbing, crouched on the floor of a stall, listening to rihanna repeat over and over, we're beautiful, like diamonds in the sky, not knowing why i suddenly liked the song or why it meant something, just knowing that it did mean something. 

the days went by in a strange haze of confusion. time seemed off, somehow. what was time? the seconds weren't moving properly, so the minutes dragged their feet through the muddy hours. talking to people, i would be aware of what day it was, then suddenly unaware. i felt half asleep. sometimes i had no energy, although my brain was still moving full speed ahead. then sometimes i had more energy than i could deal with. somehow, unfortunately, still high-functioning enough to be self-aware. listening to myself scream at people i knew, listening to myself ramble about things that made little sense and were only connected by the fact that all the sentences were in english, watching myself throw darts at a board while really aiming for the window to see if it would break that easily... yet unable to stop myself or even slow down a little. started understanding people less. and conversations. i couldn't stay on the same topic as someone i was talking to because i was afraid of saying something inappropriate. but maybe, was that inappropriate? so i kept making plans to hang out with people because maybe some combination of people + me + right situation would equal relative sanity.

and then yesterday morning i awoke and the strange sun and opening my door and cleaning and dancing around my room to the backstreet boys and aaron carter and getting dressed and the day is passing at the best speed and i'm leaving the house and going to my friend's house. he's saying words in sentences and because i can finally understand, the only way to respond is in perfectly detailed paragraphs so he can understand that i understand. then he's asking me if i want to drink before we go to the club and i stop.

i tell him i don't know. that might not be a good idea, my brain is finally working somewhat, my brain can go a couple of ways right now, it could end badly, if i start drinking i don't think i'll stop, i probably won't stop, i love what alcohol does to my brain. all of my reasons for not drinking are reasons to drink, i conclude. he's talking about something different now because i've been thinking in my head and not out loud for once, so he doesn't know what i was thinking about or that i've arrived at my destination, the grand central station where all of my trains of thought end up. yes, i say loudly after he finishes a sentence. he thinks i'm agreeing, so i have to repeat yes, several times because i can't say the rest of it out loud, which is i'll have a drink, please and thank you. and then he catches on, because my eyetooth is snagged on his bottle of vodka. that's mine, he states simply. but i'll get you something. something turns out to be quite a bit left in the bottom of a bottle of rum. we toast to school being out for the summer. we toast to charlie from it's always sunny because he calls me charlie and the dayman has defeated the nightman and i'm amused.

and why didn't i want to drink earlier is the track on repeat now, rihanna and her diamonds are long forgotten, the next hit single is alcohol is great! candy is dandy but liquor is quicker! and i'm smiling and my head feels like a solid thing again, but like its supposed to feel, like a head on my shoulders. and we're at the club and i'm being a little obnoxious as i make fun of the people who can't dance, then i dance and dance with a girl and then two girls and then the first girl and then she introduces me to her girlfriend and i'm sandwiched between them and we're dancing and they go off to get more drinks and my friend walks over and says that was hot! which reminds me that he's there and then they're back and we're dancing, the girl and i, and we almost kiss but she has a girlfriend so we can't and i need a drink and then there's a boy and we're dancing and then we're smoking and i'm laughing because he has such an innocent smile but i know he isn't and he asks for my number and then my friend is leaving and so of course i'm leaving and he's walking us out and the alcohol has worn off from my body it seems but my brain is still buzzing like a bee

and we're running across the streets against green lights and i'm almost getting hit by a van but not getting hit, which just goes to show that i'm really lucky and i'm taking it for granted, and my friend isn't sure where we are so i'm talking to strangers and flirting with strangers and-- petting a dog?-- and we're on the train and i'm telling a man on the street that clowns have hepatitis and then my friend says i attract strangers like nobody's business and he's telling me to be quiet because we're at his house and his parents are asleep and so i leave

and i'm thinking and i'm reading a book and the sky is lighter which must mean it's morning and i'm watching the sun rise, the day break

and i'm so wide awake and i have a hundred movies in mind that i need to watch and a hundred things i need to do and the perfect recipe for coffee comes to me in a flash of enlightenment and i'm talking to old women at the bus stop and i'm on the bus

and i'm calling everyone because i have the perfect advice for them, disguised as ice cream cones and sprinkled with words of wisdom but no one's answering because it's seven, no it's six ante meridian and they sleep because they're fools and i can't give them my advice over the phone, i have to tell them in person and then one person answers and she's sleepy so i let her go back and then another answers and he's sleepy so i let him go back to sleep and then another answers and she's sleepy but i tell her fuck sleep, get up and i talk her ear off for ninety minutes straight and i'm considering breaking into my own house for a change of pace and i have the window open and i can get inside but i shouldn't and i go through the front door like humans do

and then i'm in my room dancing and i'm brushing my teeth and i'm taking a nap and three hours later i'm awake again

and i drink the coffee i thought up earlier and my life is finally here and now, one long run-on sentence after another and it feels pretty awesome, to be perfectly honest. and i haven't felt this happy since i don't know when and i'm getting things done so i'm doing well. i must be, if i'm doing what i should be doing.

and i think i'm doing what i should be doing.

honestly.

he who hesitates is lost. (or, she who hesitates, masturbates.)

crush # 4.

also known as lurch. he's awesome. (i figured it out; he's 26~27.) i don't want to repeat the entirety of this story, as i've told a bunch of strangers and a few of my friends about it already, but basically my friend asked him for his number (for me, because in true missinsanity fashion, i ran away from him), and he did this. in her words.

he looked really bummed and then he was like, what really? ugh this sucks, because if she had told me a year ago, i would've been all over her, but i have a girlfriend now. so yeah.

my instant reaction was yelling "SON OF A BITCH" at the top of my lungs. i'm sure he heard it, as he headed home on the highway. and i'm sure he knew it was me. (maybe not, actually.) and i hid under a table because that's just what i do when i don't want people to see my face. but yeah. i wish he had just said no and not added the whole, i would if not for my girlfriend line. because now i'll be torn between wishing she was dead and feeling bad about wishing she was dead. (interestingly enough, i'm not torn at all about liking him. he's deliciously lickable likable.) i used the word plethora before that had happened and his eyes lit up. he understood my bad jokes about chemistry and the brain. we both wear glasses. (this is starting to feel like that episode of how i met your mother with the matchmaking service. but it won't end like that. he's not marrying this ho. no offense to her.)

whatever.

whoever this bitch is, she'd better be fucking awesome because, to quote the great watts  from some kind of wonderful, if she breaks his heart, i'll break her face. seriously. i've got 20 ounces of pure caffeine running through my veins, not to mention my brain is on the upswing. so my self-esteem is through the roof and i'm not accepting anything less than perfection for this guy. (which, you know, i'm not. but hell, i'm probably miles closer than her.) comparing myself to a possibly non-existent version of a girl i don't know and have only heard about. way to go, kid.

anyway, i don't have his number, because like i said, he said no because he has a girlfriend. which i respect. what i don't respect is that i have to sit here thinking about this while i try to write a literature review. thanks for fucking my head up.

if i see him today, i swear, i will...

not do anything.

duh. let's be real. it's me we're talking about.

but i do hope i see him again, so i can say goodbye in a better way than i did yesterday.

honestly.