daxle They call it a cooperative lifestyle (co-op) but it hasn't turned out that way, since most of us came here for the low rent. I can see now why it might be beneficial to pick and choose your members. I'm thinking about this because I'm eating leftovers from the dinner I made for everyone but left before eating. It's making me think about who I am. I could have yelled back at her, I could have calmly demeaned her, I could have tried to talk it out calmly, but I just didn't want to stay, so I went up to my room and cried. It didn't really feel like I was crying about that, but I couldn't figure out what else was bothering me. So later when he came up to check on me (and I knew he would) all I could do was speak incomprehensibly and try failingly to stop the tears from running down my face, so he let me alone. Normally I would have watched tv, but I have given up that habit, although I would have gone back to it, except I knew that I would and so left my tv at "home". So I got out my new overpriced discman and decided only nine inch nails would do for this sort of depairing but directionless situation. So I pulled out my book of cd's not likely to be listened to and ran into rem and listened to that instead, and skipped over the obvious choice of "everybody hurts" because I've always hated that song. I was pleased with myself for choosing this cd, but wasn't satisfied in the end and so moved on to pretty hate machine. It went. I found myself reminiscing about the miseries of the year after my dad's death and my conflicts with my mom. Soon this was diminished to contemplating what could be invented to function like underwire but not feel like it. Then I finished off a carton of breyer's natural peach, unhesitatingly because I had just bought another one. At this point I felt pretty safe in laughing at myself. He came back to use my printer, and maybe to check up on me. While we waited we talked about the stuff in my room and I thought about how odd I really am. There may truly be such a thing as "normal". I seem to be torn between so many things. I can't even go clothes shopping because I can't decide who I am and who I want people to think I am. I go in the thrift store and nothing feels like it is me. I like new things, and I like things that I have worn out personally. I go in hot topic (grudgingly) and urban outfitters and it all feels so contrived, like "look at me, I'm so original". I find things I like in clobba, but their overall style doesn't fit me. There is absolutely nothing in my wardrobe that I could wear in any situation and still feel comfortable. Here in davis I stick out with my red hair and my whatnot. In berkeley I am deadly boring. So I know all that should matter is who I am and what my personal style is, but there isn't a store for my personal style, and there aren't groups of people who are ready made friends. I have to deal with a slim intersection of qualities in the venn diagram of me vs anything else. So where is this rant about me going? Nowhere. There are no conclusions to be had. 001105
no reason i'm thinking i'm so tired of this lifestyle and every word that relates to it just makes me sigh. every word that doesn't relate to it but relates to what i don't have makes me want to cry. i try to think of what i want instead but i can't even think and when i can i don't even know if it's what i want or if there's really anything at all. 051007
what's it to you?
who go