the subtle signs of affection
Oct. 8th, 2002 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
threeplusfireThank the heavens for those brief periods of mania that are better than drugs. Because this will all be random.
After a couple hours of reading I leaped off the couch and launched myself into a cleaning frenzy in the apartment. I stopped at the bathrooms and the bedrooms, since I don't know if my roommates would kill me or not for that. But I did two loads of laundry and the living room, the dining room and the kitchen look good now. You can see tabletops, and counterspace, and carpet. I'm not sure what to do with the three kegs sitting in the corner, but I'm sure they fit somewhere. I discovered we have five remotes, and I'm not certain what all they control. (Where are the robots?)
Even after a shower, I'm still bouncing on my heels. Melynda gets off work soon, and we will get food from somewhere. Kinda hoping I get to play cards tonight before the energy wears off and I crash back down. More sugar, more caffiene and nicotine.
One day I should go home. But I'm avoiding it. Avoidance, yeah. I just can't stomach watching my sister throw her life away on Dimwit. My mother's company is pleasant enough, but I have a hard time there sometimes, caught between feeling fifteen and now. I jsut get restless there, because when my sister's not making a racket, it's so quiet. At least here someone's either killing monsters, swearing at their computer, or something.
The Rules of Attraction will be out soon. My heart has a soft spot for Bret Easton Ellis, that I just can't justify. He reminds me of the 1980s. There's something so harsh and painful about all of it. Like this song I'm listening to right now.
In this moment, I'm caught between so many parts of myself. Old and young, free and fettered, so driven and so lost, all of it. A side effect of the mania I suppose. But it's so much like I'm watching myself from the outside, on a movie screen, wearing a shirt that isn't mine and staring at my back door.
Just trust me, you said
Just trust me, you said
After a couple hours of reading I leaped off the couch and launched myself into a cleaning frenzy in the apartment. I stopped at the bathrooms and the bedrooms, since I don't know if my roommates would kill me or not for that. But I did two loads of laundry and the living room, the dining room and the kitchen look good now. You can see tabletops, and counterspace, and carpet. I'm not sure what to do with the three kegs sitting in the corner, but I'm sure they fit somewhere. I discovered we have five remotes, and I'm not certain what all they control. (Where are the robots?)
Even after a shower, I'm still bouncing on my heels. Melynda gets off work soon, and we will get food from somewhere. Kinda hoping I get to play cards tonight before the energy wears off and I crash back down. More sugar, more caffiene and nicotine.
One day I should go home. But I'm avoiding it. Avoidance, yeah. I just can't stomach watching my sister throw her life away on Dimwit. My mother's company is pleasant enough, but I have a hard time there sometimes, caught between feeling fifteen and now. I jsut get restless there, because when my sister's not making a racket, it's so quiet. At least here someone's either killing monsters, swearing at their computer, or something.
The Rules of Attraction will be out soon. My heart has a soft spot for Bret Easton Ellis, that I just can't justify. He reminds me of the 1980s. There's something so harsh and painful about all of it. Like this song I'm listening to right now.
In this moment, I'm caught between so many parts of myself. Old and young, free and fettered, so driven and so lost, all of it. A side effect of the mania I suppose. But it's so much like I'm watching myself from the outside, on a movie screen, wearing a shirt that isn't mine and staring at my back door.
Just trust me, you said
Just trust me, you said
