Quite Adequate

Fuck everything.
I can't wait to get out of here.

I guess you loved me, once.
I'm so sorry.

Not sure what's going on but I feel awful lately.

So, um.
James was all like 'I love you let us date' and I was like 'YEAH.'

ART MUSIC ART MUSIC ART MUSIC
Oh, wait.  SCHOOL and WORK are interrupting those.
Fuck it.
I missssssss you.

Word, misery.  How are you?

James wants to get back together even though HE IS IN OHIO.
I want to more than anything but it will never work.

Most everyone I care about is gone and I only see Rachel and Jessye.
The people I was closest to turned out to be very poor friends.

Ohio is lame and I miss James very badly.

If you hate the taste of wine, why do you drink it 'til you're blind?

Listening to Bright Eyes all day, I miss you!
It's nice that the 'you' is a different fellow than the 'you' in previous posts.
I cannot wait for us to be best friends even across states.
You are wonderful even if you're very pale and should eat more.
I'm sorry we didn't get the chance to fall in love;
I am however glad that we had such a wonderful time with one another.
Like you said,
I don't know where and I don't know when, but we'll meet again.

Loneliness is confusing when you are not miserable.

Uploading pictures from the trip.
They can be viewed on my flickr (nomorepinkowls).
It's been a good few weeks- James and I ended.
Just like we'd planned.
I wish I could see him, though.
We'll still be close friends.
Which is all I wanted in the first place.


MARINA, I MISS YOU.

My room's a mess; have to pack so much for Israel tomorrow!
Our plane leaves, I think, at 4 (from Logan?  I don't know).
I've got modeling clay but I fear security will take it from me,
thinking it's explosives (it's not).
James is coming over at 5.  I'm not sure I want to see him.
(He is annoying sometimes and I'd rather be alone)
I want to meet a nice girl somewhere and be in love again.
But whatever.
We are seeing my sister soon! 

Well!
I am happy.
Going to make some breakfast and then practice.
:)

Ahhhh I have a boyfriend :)
Going to drink some tea, watch a movie, and ponder this.
This summer's looking incredible :D

No need to say goodbye, I'll come back, when you call me...

Damn it, Pasha.  Why can't you just leave me alone, take all those thoughts in my head and wrap them up and leave?

And really, whenever I think about it and you I feel sick.

I'm trying, so hard, all the time. 
Little bits of you somehow surface even though I am trying my damnedest to smother them down, and then that feeling comes out again.  That bruise that's been prodded, that sore that's been grazed- they are all bleeding and searing and flooding my senses with too much to handle.

I miss you!

I miss you!

I miss you.

"You will always love him.  I still think about my first love, sometimes."

I will always love you, but I can still damn well wait for that day I am going to wake up and it won't bother me.  (What a refreshing feeling that will be!  I will get out of bed and stumble into the shower and you won't be on my mind.  I will go through my daily paces and not think of you, and smile at people with nothing to hide, and be able to give myself to those who deserve it without that nagging image of you holding me back.)

Give me back that part of me that I gave to you.  I didn't say you could have it, we weren't playing for keeps.  We never shook on it, you never gave me your word that "yes, it's on loan, Maya.  I'll use it gently and give it back and then you can be whole again, without me!  I promise.  I just want it for now, to try it on and wear it around town just to see how it feels."

So you saw how it feels.  You loved how it feels.

Give it back, cheater.  The rules are different.  You don't know them, you have to learn them.  I did, I learned them by heart, it isn't fair that you didn't.

It's dimming, your star.  It's not as scintillant or eye catching as it used to be, when all I felt for you was pure love.  The song you played in me is duller too, the melodies are murkier and the beat it slowing... slowing... slowing...

I don't have enough, now.  That piece, we never ever agreed on it.  It is not rightfully yours.  Give it back.  I need it.

Unless you can share it with me.
 

I guess you could say I'm exhausted, in every sense of the word.
Finished Shooting the Heart, it kept me up.
Starting another book, this one's also a little upsetting.
Today was busy, tomorrow should be busy, Netta's coming home on Sunday!

I'm trying really hard not to, but I miss you every day.

In other news, I AM THE FIRST CONSUL of MUN!
Yes!

Hrreeeaah I have a lot of work to be doin'.

OKAY MAYA.  Get your bio lab done before Chris's!

And then make cookies when you get home!

GO!
 

Today, I drove James around after work because he needed someone to talk to, and because I love James.

We went to Newbury Comics and I bought more CDs and I listened to James and it made me feel better that I was making someone feel better.

It was raining and I was crushed inside, and James hurt too; we were snug in our heat-controlled pod, rushing down the damp streets with anonymous faces passing by.  We were not so lonely.

It will all be okay in the end.

My mom is going to call people to find a therapist for me.

It will all be okay in the end.
It will all be okay in the end.

Today I drove to Mill Pond at dusk, listening to my new Iron&Wine CD.  I listened to it three times before I went home.  I sat in the parking lot and looked at the water and the grey sky, and the people getting drunk on the grass off of cheap beer, and I couldn't place myself.  I do not know where I fit into things.

I got an urge to write but there was no paper, so I cried instead.

Beth was off with Peter and Sarah was off with Mikey.

I was off with the monsters in my mind, letting them eat away at my core and show everyone what I'm made of.
You don't know what I'm made of.
I don't either.

Then I drove around the pretty stretch of rt30 in Grafton, thinking about the things I'd done there and the people I've left behind.  There was a woman walking her dog in the Tufts field.  I thought about pulling over and talking to her, asking her for help and an understanding soul to crawl up in.  Instead I just thought about how she would be normal and probably not care.  I put my foot back on the gas and contemplated never stopping, just driving straight until the full tank ran out and seeing where that one stretch would lead.  Maybe to another place, where the skies are not grey and I am not alone.

I stopped at a parking lot overlooking a large graveyard.  The stones were pristine and the dogwoods in bloom, clear even though the sky was getting greyer and my headlights would have been on if the engine were running.  The people there, they must have meant something.  Somebody loved each and every one of those headstones.  When those headstones were placed, a part of somebody must have left. 

How many parts do we have?  How much chipping and chiseling can our limestone bodies take?

We won't last for ever.  We erode, with acid rain and rushing water and time.

I think I'm depressed again.  So long, year of happiness.  You were pretty swell while you lasted.