my Diaryland Diary

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Things worth waiting for

Oh doobies.

I very rarely smoke pot, but I've smoked twice in the last two days. Not that this is a bad thing. The highs are nice now, giggly and fun. Introspective, not self destructive.

It's funny how you feel your biggest moments of absolute clarity when foggy as shit. Are they really moments of clarity, or are you so consumed in the haze that you think and imagine this perspective (prespective) on reality that may not be necessarily true. But what is true? There is no true anything. Just people's take on the truth.
In five, ten, fifty years, they will look back on our 'absolute truths' with contempt and incedulity. And then they will turn around and look at their own absolute truths with the conviction that they are right. They have truth.

So often my thoughts are geared towards myself. Not necessarily on my opinions or the reasons I've got for having them, but on me. Who I am as person, how I'm perceived, things I say, things I wish I hadn't said, things I want.

Once, in grade five, my teacher was so sick of reading 28 short stories that were filled with the words "I" and "said" that he made everyone in the class re-write them without using those words.

If my thoughts were transcribed, Mr. Adrian would shoot either me or himself.

Twin Peaks is one weird fucking show.

There is a particular person I need to cut out of my life. This person is toxic and makes me weak. Bad decisions are made. Unhealthy, unbenefitial actions and repercussions. Sometimes men think only with their dinks. Sometimes, women do too.
To be fair though, orgasms literaly every five minutes is preeeety tough to resist.

I was sad and lonely and horny. It will not happen again.

I need to be an adult about this. My heart is at stake.

12:41 a.m. - 2007-05-21

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