for lack of words

I look like this today:






This morning at 3, I looked like this:






I've been feeling like this since yesterday:







I can't wait to go to Korea. I need a change of pace. -__-

ERIC (3). Fireworks. Nothing.

It's 230am; I stumble into the house, clean up, and continue with Eric's entries...





Here's another thing about me that I find paradoxical:

Usually when someone has caught my attention, I will tell him so. I'll be direct and say, "I like you/I'm attracted to you." For the longest time I was under the assumption that I did this in order to allow my emotions room to breathe, give me the satisfaction of having at least let the person know. To achieve some form of satisfaction within myself.
BUT
Perhaps because I've only said "I like you" to one other guy, and all the other times it's been "I'm attracted to you," or perhaps because I've been oblivious to myself all along, or, even better, perhaps because my feelings are not reciprocated, I've discovered that, at least with Eric, the opposite is really the truth.
There is no unburdening of emotion. There is no satisfaction, just the undying push and pull of wanting and fearing hope.

I can't help myself.

He says things that push the wave of affection to its crest: "I could picture myself dating you," "You will see me again..." and I'm forced to devote all my energy into trying to dampen the seemingly inevitable rise of simple, unadulterated wishfulness, the kind that whispers words like "maybe" while instilling sudden, unanticipated urges to feel his hair, or place a light touch on his elbow.

so glad i found:

http://www.appendix-mag.com/



Very much worth a look.







Morning:
>Went to the last graduation rehearsal, scared the shit out of the fob sitting next to me, and read two stories in the short story collection I'm currently reading.

Afternoon:
>Bought black flats for graduation (I now have a personal vendetta against astroturf)& also purchased a great t-shirt
>Received an entirely unexpected call from George, who picked me up shortly after
>Ate at Mr. G's Pizza with George; Mayur eventually joined &eventually crossed the parking lot for coffee.
>Hung out with those two until Joann came; Mayur and George left a bit after when the former had to go to class

Evening:
>Stayed at Starbucks with Joann, talking, until about 9
>Now currently chilling at home until Eric comes to take me to the beach.



It was so, so nice to talk to Joann again. I loved hearing about her classes at MIT and her experiences there. And her boyfriend~!
I missed her so much throughout this entire school year; soon I'll be on the same coast as her again, though...

While she and I were at Starbucks, talking on the plushy chairs, a group of about 5 people came in together and sat down near us. At first I thought it was a little strange I didn't hear them greet each other, but it was then apparent that they were all deaf.
While Joann and I discussed our separate lives, the people next to us moved their hands, communicating with as much as we did. Once in a while, I glanced at them to watch their hands move. Eventually, I spoke to Joann, "You know, what these people are doing is amazing. I've never seen a group of deaf people communicating in public like this." She and I talked about communication and the wonders of being able to speak to another individual, deeply and surely, without really saying anything at all.
It completed the evening, I think, sitting their with an old friend, in slight awe of something so simple, yet so complex as communication. It really was beautiful, how expressive the emotions were, and how their entire bodies seemed to compensate for lack of speech: the angles of their bodies, the inward leaning of postures, and the intensity of their gazes.
I wanted to tell them that they were all inspiring, but I realized that they wouldn't be able to hear me.

I was reminded of this

it depends on what you value.

.


Mr G, just because I don't go to the beach doesn't necessarily mean that I won't take my bag elsewhere, or that "bad things" won't "ensue."
Location isn't necessarily a factor.
Unless, of course, you were thinking about the increased possibility of danger, imagining that I'd throw myself into the ocean while under the influence, or something...

I guess.




I was a good girl and video chatted with Todd instead of going out to the beach.
But.. I'm leaving soon to go somewhere else and I'm going to the beach tomorrow.

Mwahaha.

ERIC (2)

This boy and his demands, I swear.


It is now 4:40am, and no, I still have not slept.


I've never actually told him that I've had feelings for him. Those words were never directly stated, in fact, knowing me, I may not even be capable of saying them.
We've skirted around the issue, though, often enough for him to get the point, I think. I remember once he told me that once he saw a girl... choosing certain lifestyle habits, he could never be interested in them romantically. I remember cringing inwardly as soon as he told me that, the weight of possibility disappearing without a backward glance and leaving behind a heaviness greater than that of possibility itself.
I was foolish, though, to expect in the first place. It's just that he's so nice at times that I can't help myself.
Sometimes, when I'm out late, or early, depending on how you look at it, I'll think of him and what he said, and how he never really pressures me to quit anything, but sometimes he'll tell me that I shouldn't, that I mustn't. Like when I'm racking lines on CD cases, or sitting on railroad tracks, smoking, walking through streets slightly buzzed.
But to be honest, such thoughts have the unfortunate effect of pushing me closer to recklessness; I think about him, then rack another line, take another drag, take another swig. Maybe to forget or to avoid; knowing me, probably a bit of both.
Not that it really matters, anyway.

To be honest, there's still a slight tugging. When he says he'll take me to the beach, when he calls me funny, when he mentions fireworks. I try and ignore it, always, but I've never been one to completely deny things; I have to admit that it's there, tugging...

mission. blow.

And success.




It is 3am. I can not sleep. Fairly blown, if you know what I mean.



A this point that's kind of all I have to say. I need to write, pen to paper. Typing just doesn't cut it at times. I don't particularly have anything to write, but whenever I feel this need to project outwards, to be outside of myself, to purge, to rid the excess...