I think it's funny when couples develop names for each other like "kitten" and "muffin" and "baby." I always find something really satisfying when people say my name.

Why do I come off as naive?
I have always come off as naive. Regardless of what I've done. People who know me really well, always laugh when I say that, but people who've just met me tend to find me naive. Like I've never done anything I'm not supposed to in my life before. Which, certainly, I am not the worst person I could be. I base my moral standards off of completely abstract ideals that I invented myself, but they still exist. There are still things I do and will not do, but I try not to make them based off of a religion or capitalism.
For awhile I thought it was because I havwe big eyes. I have big eyes, I know I do, and they open when I find something interesting or confusing or cute or attractive. I use them to express things.
Do I have a little voice? I might have big eyes and a little voice, though my voice is loud when I'm not shy.
Why am I shy? I'm shy because I'm scared I don't match up to standards I should, but those standards are things I hate. I don't match up to patriarchal standards of womanhood, though I wear skirts and have long legs, I just don't do things correctly because I don't want to know or know what the correct things are.
I hate admitting these things about myself. I hate admitting I have big eyes and long legs, because that sounds attractive, but attractive for all the wrong reasons.
It should belong to someone else.

You know what I hate. When people say "real girl." There shouldn't be a real girl. Who the fuck is a real girl? This isn't passive aggressive, you know I feel this way.

I really should sleep.
Thurdays are always confusing.

Carolyn has told me that my blog posts are short and vague. I agree with her. I think more people might read it if I would just post about everything that is going on in my life.

But I kind of like my vagueries and really if you ask, I will probably tell you about anything going on in my life or thoughts.

I like workshop because I get to sit and knit and talk about what I thought about things for four and a half hours.

Also, I like snakes and poems about snakes and essays about snakes. They symbolize the male (the phallus) and the female (think Medusa). And they are neat.

Things are going to be okay eventually. I feel like I keep writing that over and over again, but really, I mean it. The problem is that I'm not sure of the definition of okay and how long I've been not okay for.

For a period in my life I thought the definition of okay was being able to sit in my room by myself and not have a panic attack (I just get overwhelmed you know, with all the thinking). I can do that. In a mindless sort of manner that I hate.

But yesterday was really truly awful for awhile and I felt miserable, but then I felt better and that was good. I felt better in such a good way too. I felt appreciated. Feeling appreciated is such a nice feeling. People don't appreciate each other nearly enough. Instead of "I love you," we should say, "I really appreciate the fact that you are here and we share things." Any ways, multiple people made me feel appreciated and it was so nice that I just felt nice about everyone and I love feeling nice about everyone. I appreciate feeling nice about how appreciative everyone is.

Maybe my emotional variance is coming back.

I needed a break, I think. I just felt too sad and too happy and my body couldn't tolerate it anymore. I hope that my emotions are coming back now though. I would like to have fun again.

You know,
she cute and she's fashionable
and sometimes that's enough for people.

Let's quantify each other in surveys,
an accurate scientific method.
I like you as a six.

Wine makes me feel slidey in a way that other alcohol doesn't. Things become slower and drippy.

Everything is constructed.

I had a lot more to say about this five hours ago, but I started to feel this horrible sense of despair. I feel like my whole life I've been told, "things are this way," and then I realize that nothing is really any way, it is only our saying what it is that makes it that way. It's not like a conclusion I just reach today or anything. I just used to like things that weren't abstract a lot, like material objects, not like in a materialistic sort of sense, but any sort of thing I could touch or see or smell, but now all of that has stopped feeling real too. I'm not sure why. It started lying in bed one night when my bed started feeling distinctly not real. Lying in bed by myself always makes me think of lying in bed with other people and I was thinking about that and then I tried to comfort myself with the solidity of my bed, because people aren't solid at all, not really, and then it occurred to me that my bed was also not solid and I was purely constructing it out of the want for it to be there. Them all of my thoughts began to seem absurd.

Something more absurd: I'm meeting with a potential real-sorority in 12 minutes. I feel like they can tell I don't like Greek life from the look on my face. I bet you are wondering why am I doing this if I don't like Greek life. It's because I'm bored too much and lonely too much. I know, they are shitty reasons.

In one of Kurt Vonnegut's books he says something about how no one wants to listen to anyone talk about their dreams. But I am abstaining from Kurt Vonnegut for the moment because he tells too many of the same jokes in multipele books, so I am going to talk about my dreams.

There were vampires in my dream. They went around killing everybody, but not recklessly. They were good at disposing of bodies and if anyone caught them they just ate them too. The vampires went on vacations on an island. They killed everybody there. I was friends with one of the vampires. She didn't kill me, except she almost did once in a public restroom because someone was talking about sex and got her into the mood. We laughed about it later. Then we went and stayed on a cruise ship. People kept disappearing. Then I woke up to too many emails and too much to do. I always find the German word "Shade" more appropriate in this situations. Just said it, "Shade." (It's phonentic, so pronounce the e.)

This is like those times
when you get a random craving for food
Eggs sunny side up
with bacon for a smile
even though you're not really sure
if you actually like eggs.

I think I know why nudists live in colonies. Skin is lonely when it's by itself. It seems kind of pointless.

(Done with last essay, onto new homework)
(The last two days have been spent doing the homework that I haven't been doing.)
(Tomorrow will be this way as well.)
(Wednesday will be better.)

I am tired of writing this essay

I wish I could take pictures. It was the one art I never really did at all. I am not very good at it. I appreciate it though. Looking at pictures of other people always makes me want to look at pictures of myself as if I need to remind myself that I am me and not them.

I don't think I understand plots. My life doesn't really have one. I mean things happen, but they don't have in a nice order that I can write. I think that's why I can't write this story. Everything is internal.

I'm not sure if I can handle reading the blogs of others, though I would like to. It's sad when people are happy and it's sad when people are sad, so either way I just end up feeling badly.

I want to separate my life from my life. Essentially, create something different.

I continue to repeat myself. My life becomes longing for not my life.

I had a dream about a boy named Thomas. This Thomas was not any of the Tom's or Thomases I know. I think I might only know one. He kept showing up in all my dreams and I said, "Go away Tom, this dream is not for you." He didn't listen and continued to show up any ways. A lot of things are like Tom.

Sundays Always Make Me Feel Like Hiding.

The security I find
in material things
once again returns
after I grow weary
of everything else.

I need to drink less.
This is true.
It would be okay, if I didn't do detrimental things while drunk.
Also, I seem to make plans with everybody and plan plans with everybody else.
I am so much more socially adventurous.
Then I wake up and wonder if I can actually do any of them.

Also what a great secret.
It's not Holden Caulfied specifically. Just like, a boy. You know, the kind that gets killed by everything metaphorically and loves everyone, but at the sametime is depressed by everything.
Maybe I was fucked the first time I read this when I was fourteen.

Okay, so this was going to be completely different.
I have now been to all the frats on campus which only took me until my senior year to complete, except I hate going to the frats and I dance and it all seems wrong and then I question my femininity because I don't dance like that, I don't rub up against boys the right way at frat parties because I don't like any of the boys there and if I did, they would be the wrong boys. So I go and dance and my hips dance and the rest of me is in my head and my hips probably don't look very good because the rest of me is somewhere else and I like my entire body to be in the same place.
I keep thinking I want something different. On Friday I saw the play "Kitty Kitty Kitty" and there were lots of masturbating clones cats having sex with one another and yet I could relate when Kitty Kitty lay on the floor and said "Something needs to change," because I said that on Thursday at Jazz Night. Life is becoming an echo of itself and this means it will change, I have to make it change.
SOMETHING NEEDS TO CHANGE.
I'm sick of feeling like everything is wrong and everyone is wrong. I am going to make it so that everything is right, but right not necessarily being good, but right and everyone being right in that it's just right, you just know. It all seems to be based on feeling lately. Like "this feels right, even though it's obviously not." I don't care about realism or logic or anything. I'm going on feeling for right now. I'm going to do what I feel and what I feel usually leads me to feeling awful, but at least it's better than this, better than the lying in bed apathy that I have.