1:02 p.m. - 2003-09-21
5am. time to...
grey.
so many empty hallways and endless staircases and institutional doors all keeping me from being where i need to be. my dreams just bleed into one another, crossing boundaries and countries and stories and lives until i don't remember who i was or always wanted to be.
but other than that, things are going well, i think. i couldn't keep my little surprise to myself any longer, but i don't know how i ever worried that he wouldn't like it. yesterday was a baffling mix; conversations and revelations, naughty shopping and a little bag of goodies to take home, a little bit of normal social interaction, and many hours spent behind closed blinds. you know, if i ever do get a roomie, s/he will need to be either exceptionally tolerant, openminded or kinky.
one of things jason told me yesterday is that he found this diary, and i've been thinking about that a little bit too. he seemed uncertain about whether he would read it in the future or not, and i told him it didn't matter, but now i'm thinking about that more... and i know that it will affect my writing, to some degree, if i think he's reading it, but since i've been expecting him to find it for a while now... i guess it doesn't change anything. and in any case, this is more about thinking out loud than anything else... putting ideas on the screen and then re-evaluating them visually. so maybe he will and maybe he won't, and either way it doesn't matter.
the other morning i was woken around 5 by my downstairs neighbour shouting, her baby screaming, and a man's voice talking... the screaming and shouting went on for about an hour. it feels so terrible to listen to that sort of thing, but what do i do? get dressed and go out at 5am? when it's mid-afternoon and she's screaming at the older boys, i can leave for a few hours, but i'm not getting chased out of my warm bed in the rainy dark. which leads me to wondering whether i'm just being heartless and cold, but really... how is her parenting trouble my problem?
bah. maybe one day soon i'll know what i want to be when i grow up, and then i'll get my ass in gear and leave. and i'll miss the view and my pathetic garden, but man, will it be good to live in a house that isn't full of hate and pain.
