in between phone booths. friday, march 10 ![]() i find myself exceedingly limited in how much i can and want to communicate with others. it's not necessarily a voluntary choice. i'm bewildered when i find myself in a conversation and am unable to come up with my half of the exchange. i can still run my pre-programmed script of "hi, how are you, i'm fine" but then my words come to an abrupt, blushing stop. i just can't remember how to talk anymore. to avoid this feeling of immense inadequacy i find myself closing the door and retreating to books - objects that require no sound to leave my throat yet inspire thoughts to chatter loud enough to give the illusion that a conversation is being had. the virgin suicides, aaron, approximately and recycled coupland and hornby stories find themselves processed all too quickly. i'm running out of stories to introduce to my brain. i have a 9-day spring break ahead of me. i'm terrified. my teacher took me by barnes & noble last night and my gray cells almost melted. there is that urge to move in forever and rent one of those armchair's while looking at letters and words and pictures until i forget how to read, and the fear that if i really could move in and did i would never speak to another living creature again. like johnny #5 in short circuit i'd be gliding around desperately screaming "input! input! input!" at the sales staff until my vocal chords withered to a halt. i suppose it's a blessing in disguise that jesse just moved away and gene just left for his spring break. i wish i didn't feel so feeble interacting with the few people left that i do know and enjoy communicating with even now that i seem unable to fill my part of the deal. honk honk. ah well. there's always my groucho marx book. i'll just steal the stories he tells in his collected letters. i wonder if anybody'll notice. honk. --- fiona apple is coming to nc in april... have no ticket yet but we'll see what happens. it would be fun. it would. especially since nine inch nails doesn't seem to be heading this way for months to come, despite both me and gene having decided just what to wear since last september already. honk. honk. |
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