Monday, March 17, 2008

I need to get out of my head sometimes. I've tried so hard to do that lately, and the way I've tried is by talking more, but then I notice people acting as if they'd kill their mothers to make me shut up. I can tell, the way they move so that their backs are facing me, the distant, glazed look they get whenever I try to say something, the excuses they find to be somewhere else. They liked me better when I would just come up with a snappy one-liner every once in a while. I did too, actually.

I can't tell if I'm normal if a bit on the introspective side, or an overthinking, antisocial freak of nature. Am I the only person who has extremely involved daydreams nearly all the time? I invent situations, and then think of how people I know would react to them, and what I would do, and on and on and it's an hour later and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing. I get so bored and frustrated with regular life that I just think about something dramatic happening to me. I daydream so often and so intensely that half the time I forget that everything I think about is a lie.

See? If I didn't think those things, (or in this case, write them down), then I would just SAY THEM. OUT LOUD. TO PEOPLE. I just have no idea how people deal with me.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Things that are comforting:

My dog, and the way he just jumps up on my bed and lies next to me and then ignores me, as if he's too cool for me and can't believe he's even here
My mom's perfume that actually doesn't smell good and I would never be caught dead wearing
Macaroni and cheese
Wes Anderson movies (especially The Royal Tenenbaums and Rushmore)
My best friend's car
Green sweatpants
Orange juice
My big blanket
My big grey sweatshirt from that camp I went to one year
My stuffed bear
My fish, Spike
My sunglasses
The Big Lebowski
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
The soundtrack to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind
Letters (mail-letters)
Letters (alphabet-letters)
Phone calls that go on late into the night, that aren't about anything bad, just to talk
My really old sneakers, the ones with the insides falling apart and the holes forming on the sides
That sound a match makes when you first light it
The song "Blackbird" by the Beatles
Well, any song by the Beatles, really
Holding hands
Hand-drawn pictures
The color green

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

I get in a weird mood when I read. I always have.

I used to read a lot when I was a little kid, actually. It got to the point where I got in trouble for reading too much, which is sort of funny on the surface, but also kind of sad now that I think about it. I didn't think it was sad then.

My parents were concerned because I did nothing but read, and they thought there was something wrong with me socially. I was a very serious little kid, which is weird to think about now, because I come off as sort of a ditz nowadays. It might be on purpose, it's probably on purpose, to compensate for the fact that I was a remarkably serious child. I had my friends, and I liked to go out and do things, but what I liked the most was to get a new book and read it on the big white chair in the living room. But if I did that, my parents would say things at me, so I started reading in my room, where my parents would come in and say things at me, so I started reading in the bathroom. I was finally safe in there, safe from their concerned looks and pointed questions.

I'm glad I turned out to be fairly normal and happy-go-lucky, because at least that means that they were wrong.