2004-08-03 - 4:32 p.m.
i told myself i would keep my butt in this computer lab chair until 5 pm. so, im cheating a little, writing self-obsessed scribbles in my diary instead of an intelligent and concise analysis of the successes and failures of the New Deal.
poo new deal! poo breadth requirements! im too old for breadth requirements! ive done my time. i deserve better. i look forward to the days i can hole up in a library, burrow into some obscure book (maybe even one about the wretched new deal), and not have to answer to anyone! no papers! no take home essays! just me, swimming in the words. maybe remembering bits for conversation later.
ive been feeling like an awful person lately. as i overcome my problems with depression and social anxiety, i realize what a yucky, selfish person i can be. i didnt go to lynda's going away dinner on sunday. no reason. just felt like moping. (and reading leslie marmon silko's "almanac of the dead" by the way. more on this below).
so i skipped lynda's goodbye. so what? no one cares, right? wrong. i probably hurt her feelings. i allienated everyone else who works at the library and showed up for the dinner. i exhibited treason and blatant disregard for other peoples feelings and existance.
ive been feeling deep, old guilt about my behavior towards my high school boyfriend, chris, who i am still friends with today. (chris, please dont read this without talking to me first). in high school, i had no idea who i was. i was in a deep murk. chris was there, like that cliche light. some kind of branch or something reaching down into the murk. hello chris. thanks for talking to me. i love you but i dont know why. that sort of thing. i tried to break up with him once, but he talked me out of it. i tried again, but got back together with him after a month. but i was still on moral ground at this point, i think.
when i left for college (god, 5 years ago now), things went wrong. i turned selfish. i turned, sour like rotting vegetables. chris became like an old shoe, not in fashion anymore, faded, too small. i didnt tell him any of this. i relished in the freedom of total irresponsibility. i broke up with him cruelly, over the phone, no attention to his feelings or the importance of his role in my life. i was a total and complete asshole. i cant believe i could do that to someone. i never wouldve guessed it, a year before, 5 years before. but suddenly, it was in my power.
and a year later, the two of us were feeling each other out again. maybe going to get back together? maybe just proving something to one another? i wanted to show him all the fun id had without him, and all the things id learned. then he left for a long trip, and there was a sense of *something* between us. what did i do? try to reconcile my past misbehavior? no...i found someone else, got deeply involved, and told chris about it cheaply, electronically, and at the last minute. i obviously never took our reunion seriously in the first place.
for these things, and much more, i feel the need to apologize. whenever we hang out now, i avoid the past. people ask us how we met, and i supply the vaguest response. hes doing fine, and probably doesnt care about any of this, but it all came rushing back to me recently, and i have to release it. just a selfish need to dump bad feelings, i suppose.
ok so the book im reading. its called Almanac of the Dead. i love it for many reasons. most of all, i love its length. 700 or 800 pages. it is a sea of fiction. i feel totally submerged, upheld by its vastness. i feel at ease, not at all rushed, no feeling that i will ever reach the end. plus its about indians, my longtime fetish, as well as sex and drugs and other thrills.
i cant wait til i finish this stupid history take home final, so i can get stupid and drunk with carelessness again. ill take my 800 pages and find a nook and fall into a waking sleep.
