The "code" for a good album is still elusive

Current Music: Death Cab for Cutie - Home is a Fire

I'm trying hard to like this album and I am hoping that multiple listens will drill it into my skull with enough force to stimulate some pleasure sensors. The first few minutes actually gave me a terrible fright; what if I no longer loved DCFC?

Not true. Tiny Vessels is still amazing. Had to check though.

I moved in with Pat. He puts his things down on the stove when he comes in the door and it drives me insane.

I love my new bathroom. It's tiny and a little shabby and I've picked out everything for it from the ground up. I've never felt so good about spending my money. It's a rental, yes, but I really want to make this place look so good. I want to walk into my home and sigh with happiness at how much of a home it is. right now, besides the cooking tools and the bathroom, it's very bland. Pale, pale beige walls and a beige carpet. I want rugs and wallpaper and decals and things that scream "I love it here, I'm so happy and so good right now."

I'm going to cook here. I'm going to decorate and pay my bills and have my friends over and everything will be perfect.

I will be perfect.

First of the year habits.

Current Music: Foster the People - Color on the Walls (Don't Stop)

When the new year hits, i have the mild fascination with all my old blogs. It's great to be able to read all these old events from my old perspectives. It's almost like i get to relive all this drama again but without the hurt accompanied by actually living it.

Happy 2012! I'm alive! I'm working! I'm happy, in a healthy, normal way and I'm fucking young with great tits and even better friends.

Fuck. . . yes.

Still here

Current Music: State Street Residence - Death Cab for Cutie

I wonder.

My life has been normal and fairly easy. It's hard to tell myself that because I haven't lived any other life to compare it too. I want to think my life has been strange or difficult but I can't say that it has. I'm the strange and difficult one, with my indifference to decorum and stubborness.

I wouldn't love me any other way.

I'm busy making paper airplanes.

Current Music: Miss Halfway - Anya Marina

Confident. Witty. Funny. Charming.
Yes, thank you, I am.

Fat. Slovenly. Lazy. Disgusting.
Except for the last, I wouldn't argue with you.

Only I can call myself disgusting without having to suffer the sting of verbal assault. I get to hear all the horrible things I have to say about me all the time without physical articulation anyway.

I understand that the people I love, and who love me, don't see me this way. Oddly, it's the people who I don't care about that I worry about. Not to mention the unfortunate fact that I weigh about as much as my two best friends combined. Most the time, I'm just happy that I'm not having to pay the cover fee twice at clubs. (I'm going to save that burn for later)

It's not that I don't think I'm fantastic. It's just that I feel literal disgust when I see myself. The person in the mirror is not that firecracker with a sharp tongue that I usually feel like. The only thing hot about me when I'm seeing myself naked are the tears shyly making their way to my neck, burning with shame.

I've made progress on myself before. I can touch my toes. Shit, my current Love goes a wobbly because I'll pretzel my feet behind my head for him. It used to be hard to see my feet at all. None of that matters in the now. Now I still hate myself. Now I want to cut my fat off with my own bare hands because a body of scar tissue would be better than this sweaty layer of regret I wear. At least scar tissue wouldn't be visible no matter what I wear.

It's wrong to hate myself this much. It's wrong that I can't stop myself from emotionally or even indifference eating. You know, eating because there isn't anything else to do. All the makeup in the world doesn't stop a pig from being anything but a pig.

oink oink.

stop

Current Music: Apocalypse Please - Muse

I don't know how to verbalize what i feel, something that is distressing for me. I've known how to say what I feel, whether i wanted to or not, since i can remember.

I've got a lot of bitterness in me, I can feel myself repressing things. I have got an idea of where it is all coming from but i can't confirm.

Right now, the people i thought i liked best are the ones who i feel are hiding the most from me. I think that they are the biggest fakers and are building a rather precarious tower of deceit.

Enraged.

Current Music: none

I'm enjoying a quiet night. . . in a sense. Dungeons and Dragons make for an easily frustrated state of mind. Perhaps I shouldn't complain; this is my hobby.

I have been finding myself easily angered. I nearly beat the crap out of Aaron a few nights ago and I nearly beat Akim. I would have if I hadn't bruised my hand the evening before on Aaron. I'm bruised and hurt and still ever filled with anger unlike I've ever been suspect to. I know it is a side effect of Beans' death, just as much as I know that it isn't healthy to be so prone to physical violence.

Having been a fairly docile person for the bulk of my life, this sudden shift in temperament has been perplexing me as much as those around me who are left as physically damaged as myself. This is a new kind of depression. I feel as though, in lieu of hurting myself in the typical, emo way, I've decided to hurt myself by fighting with others.

I should be paying attention. I'll be back on this subject someday.

I lack the charm and looks.

Current Music: Death Cab for Cutie - Tiny Vessels


If i ever meet a guy i really like, a man who i could imagine being married to, a man of virtue who could love me and my flaws, remind me to not introduce him to Melanie.


Why would anyone want me after meeting her?