2001-05-03 :: 3:19 p.m.

I have to admit a few things here. Because they're eating me alive. And I wanted these things to be just for me but that can't be the case. It doesn't matter, really. We give things away, you know, by being here.

And I'm giving this away: The people that I don't see anymore, I have become depressed about that. I miss the musicality and the creativity.

I wish I could have weekends where I'm just relaxed and chill and not aware of the kind of fun I'm having and if it makes not having those people around seem worth it. I hate being so aware of people's absence that I try to make up for it by being more busy than necessary, and doing more things in one weekend than I have all year. And making myself alcohol-sick and staying out all night until I pass out in the early mornings on my couch, fully dressed.

Though I adore my Whorenuns with all my heart, I wish to the heavens above that they didn't seem to me like a trade I made.

All my datey boys, distractions. Like teething rings. They take my mind off of the one person that means most to me, but only end up reminding me anyway, just by the mere fact that they're placebos. Not the real deal. Like Nutrasweet is to sugar...

Maybe Lawyer Boy was right. I'm not having that much fun anymore; I've just become a really good actress.

Being lonely at a party of hundreds is not uncommon, but it's uncool nonetheless.

I don't say these things to get sympathy, or messages, or whatever. Sometimes I just have to be real for a second and not funny-funny witty-sarcastic Sundaygirl all the time. Ya dig?

These are all my facts and secrets, this here 3rd day of May, 2001. Now I have none left. And, strangely, I feel lifted.

Tomorrow, I will be back on track with a snide comment here and and a wry observation there. Wait for me.

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