if anyone stalked me…
they would see me naked ALL THE TIME. seriously, i’m way too confident in the privacy of my own home. i need to get some blinds. i want red ones.
i leave for new york city in 1 week and 3 days. i am so nervous. i am so excited. i am so fucking worried. today i did a nude charcoal drawing of a friend of mine. stab me in the chest. ANYWAY. i like it, but there are so many things about it that i could do better. but i like knowing that. it feels good knowing that there is more in me that i just haven’t gotten out yet, and that i actually want to spend time working at it so that i can see it! it feels so good to give a shit about something. i don’t know what i would do if i didn’t.
i was crying in my car on my way home tonight, and i almost ran over (an already very run over) baby fox. and i started crying so much harder even though it was completely unrelated. death will always be sad, and for some reason unexpected. like michael jackson. what the fuck, you know? i never thought he would die. everybody does though, i guess. i mean, i know.
yesterday my dad challenged me to look my mom in the eyes for 100 seconds without laughing or dancing or trying to make things not awkward or anything. he said it was in “excercise in intimacy” that i’m sure he read in some sort of family book or heard in a radio program. anyway, i couldn’t do it. i think i would be able to do it with almost anyone else except my parents. i will never have children. you fucking carry it around for 9 months, let it rip your vagina open on the way out, get excited when it poops, pay for it to go to college, and it can’t even look you in the eyes for an extended period of time. FUCK THAT. i hate kids. because they are annoying, also.
i need to go to bed. it’s 1:46 am and i should get back on schedule with the whole bed early/up early.i haven’t talked about what is on my mind. i didn’t really plan on it, actually. i actually wrote this so that i wouldn’t think about what is on my mind. it didn’t help. i am still weak.
