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don't even know
I have not been able to sleep at all tonight. It's now 7am. This hasn't happened in a while. I can't stop thinking about the interview I had with this girl who I've known practicley since birth. We had some weird falling out moments in junior high and were basically never friends again. And I can't lie and say I never thought about her. Fuck it, I even dreamt about her. And then last night we met up and talked for 2 and a half hours and it was really great. She wasn't fat like I'd always thought I'd hope she be. I wasn't wearing Louis Vuitton and my life isn't perfect, like I'd always swore it would be the next time I saw her. She looked great, sounded great, and I think the reason we were never able to make it work was that we were so similar. Both funny and talkative and smart and opionated. But she always trumped me in in area, and I guess I was jealous. Her family life was always solid. She was always very close with them and still is and it just seemed to be something I have, and still do really want. In fact, one of the reasons we had stopped being so close didn't have to do with something either of us did. It was actually something my dad of all people did. Something that I think, and I think everyone in my family thinks but no one ever says, is that my dad is crazy. I'm not saying this under the influence of anyone else's beef with him. I'm saying under my own experiences, and things brought to my attention all due going back into the past and trying to figure it all out. My dad has no friends, and ruined friendships with people for years. With people his own age, people my age. He's angry, has a grandiose opinion of himself. This is all just for starters. It's too early in the morning to get in any deeper. I think the only thing worse than having a crazy parent is being in denial of it, which my whole family has been for years. But I guess it's hard to say it out loud. It brings up so much pain, and makes me want so badly to have the opposite when I raise my own children that I'm almost obsessed with it. I can make amends only for my actions. I can't clean up his messes. I can try. It's so hard. I don't know what else to say. It's the weirdest kind of sad feeling. I guess this entry is really boring. It's not about the scene.
7:01 a.m. - 2006-10-24
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history - mystery
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