have you got it in you?

t minus 1 day and counting till i go back to jersey. to say that i'm making myself with worry wuld be the biggest understatement of the year. i am absolutly dreading this visit. even my friends are having premonitions of disaster upon my return to the suburban abyss, void of all personality and expression.

i dont know what i am more afraid of...having to face my family as a whole or having to deal with my mother and brother for three days. within my family, i am the outlier. i didn't go to a bitchy yeshiva in the city for middle & high school. i don't care that much about religion. sure...i can give you the basic premice of what the deal is for each holiday but that's it. i cant quote the rebbi. i'm not at an elite ivy-league school or some ultra-liberal arts school. i'm not at all afraid to have an opinion...even if expressing it fucks me over in the end.

and i know it's extremly cliche to blame mother for everything. because it's not all her fault. but at least my father and i have a decent working relationship. as in...we talk. occationally. without screaming. and he treats me like the adult i am. whereas with mother...she is like a bad movie. like the girl who tried out for "the stepford wives" and they didnt take her cuz she was too fake. with her. it's all about appearances. and if you have a different opinion...you'd better watch your ass. because she won't even allow it to enter her mind. she will scream and scream and scream and refuse to listen to you. because...her way is the only way. to have another idea is sheer blasphamy.

as for my brother. i dont know if he's just in his "fuck you, i hate everyone cuz i'm an angsty brat" stage or what. but he needs to learn some respect. not even for others...but for himself. he's brillant but doesnt apply himself. this kid...if he applied half the energy he puts into making a jackass of himself into his schoolwork. this kid would be at harvard in a second. and he is so arrogant. he's the kind of kid who will make fun of the handicapped kids to their faces. one day...somebody is going to beat the shit out of him. and he is going to diserve every moment of it.

and home...i mean. it never really was my home. and i have all of these bad memories connected with there that it gets to the point in which i'll have panic attacks of massive preportions. i just dont fit into the westfield model. sorry if i have an origional thought. whoops. i'm sorry you're all drones and will most likley ammount to nothing more than car salesmen and trophy wives.

earlier...tim and i ended up walking to starbucks and just chatting afterwards in the pergola. it's actually really amusing to see how different we both are and were in high school. from what he was telling me, he was the goofy, popular kid...prom court...all that crap. i was the kid who got the hell out of high school as fast as humanly possible.

i think my main adversion to high school came with a few realizations:
-stupidity is a disease and must be avoided like the plague.
-high school teachers were either the superpopular kid and never want high school to end or the absolute dork out looking for revenge after the fact on the kids who made them miserable
-immaturity is directly proportional to the number of people in a room.

but whatever. i went. i did my schoolwork. got good grades. graduated. that's all that really matters.

completly shifting gears...i tried reading some more of conrad's heart of darkness earlier. this is after not picking up one of my favorite pieces ever after dr. carter tried to suck the life out of it for me earlier in the semester before dropping her class. anyways...i love it. i love conrad. i mean...how can you not love:

"We live, as we dream--alone. . . ."

i actually really like that thought. the fact that we're in a state of perpetual lonliness and the only way to snap out of your emotional state is to become completly reclusive. because when it comes dwn to it....nobody is going to be there for you. in the end...it really is only you and your dreams.

depressing, no?

i think i'm starting to accept the fact that i cannot be loved. i am too messed up. and i am going to die alone...

i also read a lot of dickinson today. sorry. i was feeling literary.

---640---
I cannot live with You –
It would be Life –
And Life is over there –
Behind the Shelf

The Sexton keeps the Key to –
Putting up
Our Life – His Porcelain –
Like a Cup –

Discarded of the Housewife –
Quaint – or Broke –
A newer Sevres pleases –
Old Ones crack –

I could not die – with You –
For One must wait
To shut the Other's Gaze down –
You – could not –

And I – could I stand by
And see You – freeze –
Without my Right of Frost –
Death's privilege?

Nor could I rise – with You –
Because Your Face
Would put out Jesus' –
That New Grace

Glow plain – and foreign
On my homesick Eye –
Except that You than He
Shone closer by –

They'd judge Us – How –
For You – served Heaven – You know,
Or sought to –
I could not –

Because You saturated Sight –
And I had no more Eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise

And were You lost, I would be –
Though My Name
Rang loudest
On the Heavenly fame –

And were You – saved –
And I – condemned to be
Where You were not –
That self – were Hell to Me –

So We must meet apart –
You there – I – here –
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are – and Prayer –
And that White Sustenance –
Despair –

just ponder that for a moment.

and...i just got an image while i was retyping that...of a woman. i have never met her before in my life and i've yet to meet anyone who looks like her but...i've been getting these feelings of her presence around me. just a second ago...she was clad in a white, hippie-ish dress...with wild hair flowing out from behind her. she was slowly decending down the staircase. almost floating.

i wholeheartidly believe in ghoastly spirits. and i think i have one here with me right now. she is strong. she embodies all that i cannot see nor feel nor have the capacity to. she is perfection. and i want her presence to enter my psyche so i can become closer to this spirit. closer to the voices that came before me...so i can question the source of their strength and maybe...for once...


feel inspired.