2001-05-22 - 10:57 p.m. - trivialis8

*closes eyes and intake-*

Sometimes I just want to scream. Stupid arrogant assignment. Will high school students really come up with a workable proposal for peace in Kashmir if no one before them has succeeded since Partition? Give me a break.

I'm getting that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me that I should go to bed soon. I can't, of course; homework prevents me from doing so. This entry is a way of putting off my homework. Please don't ask me why I do this - I don't know myself.

It hurts - all of it, I don't know... physically I'm fine. I haven't been sick since November (gross flu...) which is good... on the other hand, I feel like freeze-dried death most days, and my center feels cold, dead, and grey. Thank you if you are one of those who I talk to and, just for a moment, am made whole with - by? I'm not sure any more. No certainty in the feeble light of the sun.

I was meant to be a vampire. No malevolent force of evil, nor some avenger, but just... there. Killing would be necessary, I suppose, but... agh. Somebody stop me before I trap myself further in a web of - dreams? I'm not at home in my own language, so I borrow desperately from others, trying to find a center. As I try to find an identity: neither wholly Chinese nor wholly American but a product of both... I lie shrouded in ambiguity, which scares people and twists the dagger in my heart.

And so.

I try to curry favor with those I like, both senses - it's obvious to me, who knows if it's obvious to them. It very probably is- few of those I look at are fools. What's wrong with me? I can not go on like this... wishing to take care of others, wishing that I didn't have to take care of myself, wishing to be taken care of... which, dammit, I am. Thank you parents... but it's not quite what I mean. Where do I draw my emotional sustenance from? My family? Ha.

And so I become - mad, really... mad penguin, watch out- and I seek what I cannot find from myself in others. And am hurt when they ignore me or patronize me, but only doubly determined to try again. I set myself up. This is something I've taken a while to realize, but it's true, and I don't like it at all. There are a lot of things about myself I don't like. I'm working on them... although some people try to convince me that I'm a good person. I wish I could believe them. I wish I didn't feel like a shell all the time. Although there are those who say that if I didn't at some deep unconscious level want to feel that way, I'd be able to change it. Maybe so and maybe no but in the meantime I feel like freeze-dried death warmed over rice.

And I try, dog-like, to gain information from traces, from scents... now you think, I see, that I go around jamming my nose into people's backs. Not so. It disturbs me nonetheless. I recognize some people by the way they smell. I don't think I should. But perhaps this is quite normal and I'm only making it worse for myself by calling it odd behavior. Rationalizations for a troubled mind.

I don't stalk. That's one thing I don't do. That falls within the realm of the duck.

How do others sleep peacefully at night? The good dreams have stopped. The bad ones are back... writhing agony unbearable waiting and I just want to run and hide away from the world where I will not have to deal with other things.

In the end I must still deal with myself. And that is the hardest thing of all.

I know you don't care. I know this is not unique. And what I've said - well, most of it - is either obvious or, upon second reading, just plain wrong. Show me the world as I'd like to see it, Chloe. Let me know what I'd like to see, what it is I feel I'm missing. Tell me I am just fine, liebchen, whatever I call you. Help me drown myself in Schlagobers and blood.

More to come later.

Cedamus Phoebo et, moniti, meliora sequamur. -Vergil.

J the mad penguin (:>