26 march 2000 | back | archive | forward | girl | sign | e-mail

sometimes i just don't want to say anything. i have the words, the thoughts, the ideas. they're all floating here in my head, toward my mouth, toward my fingertips, as if they want to get out. but sometimes i am just selfish, or tired, or scared. sometimes i want to hide from everything and everyone. i want to stand perfectly still and absolutely quiet. untouched, unheard, unnoticed.

i can stand right in front of you, look into your eyes and speak face to face, and still i am hiding.

because it's scary. life is scary. i am scared because you (and i know who many of you are, now) are reading this. i am scared to say too much or not enough. i am scared that i will fail miserably at whatever it is i try, and you will be there watching. i am scared to not know what i am going to be doing next month, or when my lease is up in august, or next year, when i am 25, the age that my mother got married and settled down. i'm scared of settling down. but i'm scared to leave. even when i know it's a sign of strength to admit your fear, i am scared to even admit i'm scared.

and i want to delete that paragraph so badly, but i am trying to be brave.

i've been reading a lot of websites and having many discussions recently about being honest and getting personal and maintaining artistic integrity, and it's all so jumbled in my head right now that i don't know what anything means, anymore. part of me thinks, i never asked for this, and then i realize that i did. i started this, and i can't stop. not now. even if i wanted to, i couldn't, because i need it. i need this. i need you. more than maybe i should, but i must be doing something right, because you're still here, and so am i.

my roommate got into columbia grad school for writing. michelle, you rock! someday you will read her essays in the new yorker and wish you knew her because her beauty radiates through her words. really. just wait and see.

i don't even know if that's what i meant to say, but it's midnight, and i'm sleepy.

the girl's guide to hunting and fishing, by melissa banks, was so good i could not put it down until i was completely done. now i'm reading flaming iguanas by erika lopez.

my godchild, katherine, sang, "somewhere over the rainbow" to me on the phone today. she lives in canada and is clearly the next celine dion, with better taste, of course.

i've been saying "dreamy" a lot, as in, "jude law is so dreamy."