SK; / Comments

I have no idea what that means.
But let's do it.

I don't know.
Thinking about mac and cheese.
Why?

Haha, it's a different sort of high, though. It's like speed, but not as intense. It's nice, though, really nice.

I'm pretty sure we're on different continents, but sure. I like drugs, I like music, I like lights. They go together nicely.

My mother and I have never understood each other, but that doesn't mean she's a bad person.

I'm not sure I understand what you mean by that. I dunno, giving me a headache. Basically you're trying to say that our cultural stigma is that it's alright to be wrong, and so if it's wrong to be wrong, then our culture is always wrong, since that's always our thoughts?

It's not an unhealthy number. I mean sure, it's not super healthy, but it's not as bad as it could be. I don't see anything wrong with pills. Hey, what doesn't kill you makes you
what,
high?

I think I'm just really good at disagreeing. I got that from my mother. I remember one time dropping a friend off in a really generic suburban neighborhood and telling her that I never wanted to live in a house with the same floorplan as all of its neighbors, and she got all angry about how I would be lucky to live in that kind of house with my attitude. But she would never live in a generic house, either, she would never want to be the same as everyone around her.

I'm pretty sure I'm not with anyone. I think I see the world differently than everyone else. I think I'm just sort of off.

I mean, you can believe in me as in believing that I can do whatever I want, but I don't think you should believe in my actions if you don't agree with them.

I've never seen Inception. I don't know, I think I'm probably one of the least self-conscious people out there. I honestly never think about what people think of me, I never consider how they see me, what they see in me, unless they matter. And I never really care about image. I care about how I present myself, but not how I look, if that makes any sense. I hate it when people say that they don't care what other people think, because it's always obvious when they do, and it's always obvious that they're lying about it. But I guess I've just never thought I was ugly, I've never thought I was stupid, I haven't been uncomfortable with who I am in at least three years. But I think there's got to be something wrong with being wrong. I think there's got to be something that's going to tell me when I die that I've been wrong the entire time, and I don't know how I'm supposed to know what's right. It's obviously nothing we know about.

Well it wasn't necessarily that you were trying to manipulate me, just that you kept on telling me what to do, you tried to make me see it your way, and I didn't ever like to do that. You were stubborn. I'm stubborn. We're both so fixed in our own beliefs that we couldn't really function. Sometimes I would do something bad that would make me feel good, and I'd tell you about it. I'd tell you that I was sleeping around and you would tell me to stop, tell me I was being a jackass. And I was being a jackass, I still am a jackass to the girls I fuck, but I didn't want you to tell me that. I wanted some kind of confirmation that it wasn't such a bad thing, that it made me feel good for a day or two, and that made it alright.

Yeah, if you save fifty dollars a week from the time that you're fifteen, by the time you're 35, you'll have a million dollars in your account. That's what I've been doing when I have the money. I put more in when I came into more money to make up for the several weeks that I missed. But no, not everything is possible. Very few things are possible. We can't do anything that we want, we can't change the world. We have no idea how little we really can do. I want to be able to perform photosynthesis. Fuck it, though, I'm no tree.

I feel like it sounds so stupid, "severe ADHD." Like it's the dumbest psychological issue ever, it's just having a hard time paying attention, everyone has it. It doesn't really affect me in any way, and it's 100% treatable. The only thing that really bothers me, I guess, that I'm so reliant on pills. I can't live without them, to be honest. I lose all motivation to do anything, and I honestly can't stay in a conversation. And I'll tell you a secret; when I take 80+ instead of 50, I get really horny, AND I can stay up all night. Amphetamines make my world go round. But yeah, my real issue is just that I'm nervous all the time. I can't sleep that often anymore, sometimes I just don't feel like eating at all when I'm stressed, I just don't have the time to stop freaking out. Running is really the only thing that calms me down enough.

Well yeah, it's something, but it's probably nothing important.

What's that supposed to mean? You're not supposed to believe in someone if you don't agree with their actions.

Sometimes I like being alone. Today I was alone all afternoon. I went to my greenway and I sat in the middle of a field and I wrote. I've been doing that lately, for the first time ever. I think it's my summer passtime. Maybe I should get a job. I don't write much, and what I write isn't that good, it isn't that interesting. I'm always scratching out, it's just a notebook scarred by my penmark, but it's therapeutic. I write paragraphs, usually just a few lines, usually about people I know, or things I see, the world and how it works. Today I wrote about light. I would share, but I doubt you want to hear it. I know it sounds kind of gay. It probably is pretty stupid and emotional, but it makes life easier to have my words down on paper, to be able to visualize what I feel.

It's not that I feel like I put the people there, but it's like I closed my eyes and thought all of this up. Like it's a dream, just temporary, just something to keep me occupied. It makes me feel creative when I imagine that I fabricated this universe. Like I actually have an imagination, this magnificent imagination that thought up all of this. But then sometimes I start to wonder if my views are right at all, because what can we really know? What if genocide is the right thing? It's not in this world, but what if it is in the universe? What if Republicans are right? What if there is a Jesus and he really does love me? I get so scared of those things that I just want to stop thinking so that I don't start believing anything wrong, I get petrified by the possibility of being wrong, because I feel so strongly about what I believe, but I don't know that things can really be good or bad, I don't know anything about right or wrong.

Yes you do. You did with me, at least.

I looked up your "secret" and I'll tell you what- it's a scam. It's just a way for some lady to make money preying on other people who need faith, who want to make their lives right. People can't just fix their relationships. They can't make the money come to them. You just have to be smart about things, you have to try, believing isn't enough to get by in this world. It's a terrible world, Phoebe.

I think you and I were probably raised on completely different ends of the spectrum.

If those aren't my strengths, then I don't have any. I'm not good at anything anymore. And I swear to god if you say that I've got the greatest dental hygiene out of anyone you know, that's not even a strength, even though my pearly whites are both pearly and white, and always clean. It's just a compulsion. I don't have OCD, but I brush and floss thrice a day because my anxiety issues compel me to, it calms me down. I have anxiety issues, by the way. I don't know that I ever told you that. I probably told you that I've been diagnosed with severe ADHD since I was a kid, which I think is a stupid diagnosis, and not a big issue, but I probably didn't tell you that all of my minor psychological issues are anxiety related. But then again, maybe I did. I don't even remember what I told you. I don't care. You know it now, and what you don't know probably doesn't even matter.

I don't know that I'm a bad guy, but I won't say I'm a good one.

You don't think that the less you think about things, the less they matter? I feel like maybe my mind is the only thing in the world right now. I guess it's just some after-effects from last night. I feel isolated, but in a good way. Like I'm controlling this. Like if I don't know you, you're not there. When I forget about you for good, you're gone. The faces I see are only faces until I fabricate their personality, until I introduce myself to my own creation of a reality. So maybe I'll just start forgetting and bad things will go away. Do you ever feel like that? Like the world was built just for you? Like all of this is just in your head, blink and it'll disappear. It makes you feel infinite, it makes you feel creative and awake and alive.

Yeah, no offense, but that sounds like a stupid cultish jesus group idea. Because you can't get anything you want because there's nothing out there to give it to you. You have to take what you can get, you have to lie to get ahead, you have to cheat, you have to steal, you have to win, you have to break your way through if you really want to reach your goals. Maybe I just believe that because those are my strengths. I think those things make me happy. I like the feeling of getting away with things, I like manipulating people. And I guess that makes me fucked up, but I just like to be in control.

Well my sister is still a part of my life. She just moved back home for the summer, actually.

I guess I'm just done with thinking about the past. I don't really want to talk about our old issues, if that's alright. You and I have a past, and it had its ups and downs, and now it's over, and we're here, in 2011. I've been thinking lately about how much I think about my mistakes and everything, and now I just don't see the point to thinking back over them and how I would have done things differently.

I don't really believe that. I think that there are some terrible days where great things happen and don't have an impact on your mood. You won't remember them in a few years, it's as if they never even happened.

What's the secret?
Your life doesn't bore me. My life bores me.

I don't know that I've been that great of an influence. I've made so many mistakes, but he still looks up to me. I know that sounds cocky, and he's never told me that, but I get the feeling that he respects me or something. I know that my older brother was always the absolute coolest person in the world to me, even though he made even worse mistakes than I have, if you can imagine. I don't know that I ever told you much about him.

I get that feeling all the time. It's pretty much how I live my life. I don't think anyone really knows what's going on in my thought process. I don't think anyone really gets what I mean to say. I know that you were going through a lot that year, too. I could tell, and I remember things you would tell me. But for some reason, you always helped me, even though I never returned the favour. I guess my only excuse is that I had my own things, and I was too stupid to realise that I wasn't really so important. I guess I just really want to thank you for keeping me in line through everything stupid I did. I mean, you could never come and make me stop, but you called me on my shit, and you always heard me, you always made time for me when I needed someone. I don't think I remember how much you meant to me at the time. I think it's been a long time since I've counted on anyone, and it's been a long time since I had to count on you. And I really did need what you and I had. It was sort of an escape, I guess. I was always embarrassed to ask for help from anyone, but talking to you, I never had to face you and see the disrespect or the annoyance in your face, you could never offer shitty assistance that I would ultimately turn down.

Sometimes I think I'm grown enough for now, don't you? I'm only nineteen, for Christ's sake. I want to just stay here for a while. Why can't there be a pause button? I don't even know where the past year has gone. I just want to stop growing older until I'm ready to move on from this perfect moment in time. It's not going to get much better than this.

Tell me about your life.
We're talking about me again. We always do that. I'm sick of me. I'm sick of the past. Tell me more about yourself, Phoebe McGregor.

He's nothing like me. We have some similar beliefs, we get along really well, but he's logical. He's driven by thought and precision, while I'm driven by chaos and appeal.

It's not necessarily that you weren't there, it's just that I used to tell you about the things going on in my life, I used to tell you my problems, but I never told you what I loved, I never told you what matters to me. You never knew about the tiniest things, those details that really make me who I am. I call Sugarbear "Sugarlump" when he gains weight. I really like wearing socks, and I don't know why. Sometimes when I can't sleep I start counting off the Louis' of France and their accomplishments, and sometimes it helps, but I usually only remember Louis XIII, XIV, and XVI. I hate applesauce. I probably told you that last one, though. But I was so selfish with you, too. I always made you listen to me, I always made us talk about me; you rarely spoke a word about yourself. So I don't know any of those things about you, either. That doesn't mean that I never cared about you, though. You were never just someone to talk to. But you knew me at a terrible time in my life. I was addicted to the pain that I put myself through. I would do anything to let myself know I wasn't going to be okay the next day, because that meant I was still capable of feeling something. I feel like maybe if you'd met me now, you probably wouldn't resent me so much, you wouldn't feel that you had anything to apologise for.

I think I'm just more eloquent and less silly than I used to be. Less obnoxiously open about stupid things, less attention-seeking, less ridiculous.

I wrote a really long paragraph about how a comfort zone is something you don't want to leave because even though stepping outside could be better, it's change, and change is different. I went on and on about how it's a routine, something you know as well as you know yourself. And then I realised that I was basically writing about mine and Riley's relationship, and that everything I was writing was easily disputable. But then again, I don't feel like she's ever held me down. I've never felt bland because of her. And those are things that I think a comfort zone must do.

I don't think there's one person for everyone. I don't think that people can love a single person for their entire lives, at least not someone like me. I'm terrified of commitment. Last time a girl told me that she was in love with me, we broke up because of it. She was my first college girlfriend. We were good together, but not good enough.

Well yeah, he's a smart kid. He's sort of slacked off, but it's not his fault pot is more fun than homework and sex in the parking lot is more fun than sixth period maths. That was my problem in high school at least. I can't really vouch for him.

Well yeah, Riley was a part of a lot of the things that I told you about, a lot of the time I didn't even have to tell her, she was there with me, and she's the only person I could ever really trust with a lot of things because she's the only one who could understand them. You get me, I think, but you don't really understand. Does that make any sense? You know how I tick, you know the things I do and the reactions I have, but you don't really know where my actions are rooted. You know things that have happened to me, but I don't know that you really know anything about me. I have to admit, I did hold a lot of things back from you, even though I told you so much.

Well that's the thing, though. She's been my only constant for nineteen years. We've become a single unit, we have similar views and ideas, it's like our thoughts have a symbiotic relationship. Everything I own has a ghost of her. Each shirt has a memory of something we did together embedded in its fabric, each time I turn around in this chair I catch a glimpse of her for just a moment, her posture always straight, hair tucked behind her ear, leaning back on the couch with a cup of coffee in her right hand; elegant, but never uptight. Her favourite tree is the Japanese magnolia, her favourite musician is Bob Dylan, her favourite Michelangelo is the Pieta. I'm not sure I know what I am without her in my life.

I think it's honestly just about being happy.

Yeah, he's heard from the colleges he applied to, he got in to four of five.
He already decided where he's going though and accepted the acceptance or whatever.
That actually means a lot, which I guess is pretty lame. It took me a really long time to figure out that you didn't hate her for actually being her, and while you and I still talked often I could never really understand how someone couldn't love her. I guess I still don't. She's one of those people that gets along with everyone, and she's always been a huge part of my life, you know that. But she and I fought a lot two years ago. We were both going through things, mostly things I failed to mention to you. We haven't argued like that since then, really. I dunno, our relationship was really great the last time, it just wasn't right anymore, we're not the same. We had a clean break for the first time, but it's weird that it's actually over. Sorry for the long comment. I just feel like there's a lot to explain.
How are you and Rory?

Yeah, I know the feeling.
Well Seth is a senior, and next week he finished AP exams, so he's pretty much done with school, and I think he gets out in two weeks or something.
The three of us just finished our second semester at university. TJ and I are still going strong, deep in bromantic love, obviously. We're each just coming back in the fall, but Riley is actually studying abroad come September. She'll be gone for four months. I dunno, I think we're friends still. We're taking a break from seeing each other at all, though, we're letting things clear up. We're broken up for good, though.
Brendan and Brittany are really great, too. I think her mum is trying to convert him to Christianity already, though. Got some issues with that, shoving her religion down my son's throat.

How have you been, then?
I don't think we've talked in a few months.

Maybe I wrote something or sommin. I dunno.
It's as good as usual.

Guess.
Thanks. It was fine.

No, I just changed the URL, it's still there.

oh, you know, the usual.
You?

Hey Feebs.

I WAS BUSY. BUT I'M BAAAAACK. :3
I MISS YOU SO MUCH. <3