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stupidfool
i can't sleep right any more. i need to catch up on sleep, but instead i just keep sleeping less and less each night...

nothing happened today. absolutely nothing actually happened, but inside of me, i think i went insane. i think i'm having crazy mood swings. maybe i'm going through menopause at the age of 20. that's gotta be a record...

i worked. when i first got there, it wasn't busy, so i was wandering around, cleaning stuff up, and drifting into and out of loser-land. the store was supplying my soundtrack, and celine dion came on, singing 'it's all coming back to me now.' i wasn't actually listening, but i was still listening. (ok, i know what i mean, even though it doesn't make any sense.) there was nobody around me as she sings 'but you were history with the slamming of the door and i made myself so strong again somehow and i've never wasted any-' and then it stops, right in the middle of that build-up, and some stupid grocery store commercial comes on. automatically, i put my hands on my hips and glare up at the speakers, right as jim walks around the corner. he starts laughing, and asks 'now what did the ceiling ever do to you?'
i get embarrassed and try to explain, 'it stopped right in the middle of that line-never wasted any. it seems so unfinished.'
he tells me to look it up on the internet when i get home.
i tell him '-of my time on you since then. i know it. but they should have played it... they shouldn't stop in the middle of a thought...'
he looks at me like i've lost my mind and says, 'loser, it's just background music.'
i tell him, 'with me, there's no such thing as background music.'
he stares at me for a minute, and then he walks away. that's all i saw of jim today.

it was one of those mornings where all i wanted to do was look at some hot girls and their butts. terrie wasn't there. taysha didn't come in til later. marie was there. marie is NOT hot, but i stared at her anyway, and wondered how she can be bi and a slut and i still can't even touch her. she came over to me once and poked me in the side. i jumped and squirmed and she laughed. i wonder if she's flirting when she does this, or if it's more like teasing a little kid, to see if they'll give you a cute reaction. i wonder why i like it. i don't like her. later, i poke her back, and get about no reaction. she tells me i'm special because nobody else is so sensitive. i liked having my finger touch her side. i think i'm a bad person because i don't like her at all. i think i'm confused.

when taysha showed up, i spent a lot of time staring at her too. i love her hair and her ass. she doesn't tuck in her shirt, so i hardly ever get to see her ass, so i stare at her hair. (this is probably better for me anyway.) she has a million tiny braids and she pulls them back into a ponytail. it's beautiful. i want to take her hair out of the ponytail, and run my fingers through all those little braids... mmmmm...

when taysha goes on break, i try to switch my mind back to non-sexual stuff. it doesn't work. instead, i get christine. and rice girl. naked. and i can't change the channel. it feels wrong. it's like picturing your parents having sex, that's how it's wrong, only then it's wrong and it makes you feel disgusted and gross and you'd rather not think about it. this is wrong, only it turns me on. i see christine on top of her black girl and i want to be under christine. or being on top of her black girl would be ok too. either way... what are you doing? this is christine and her girlfriend! stop it! i am arguing with myself again. finally, i give myself a firm lecture.
ok loser, let's be honest. you think christine is hot. when it comes to hot girls, she's better than terrie and taysha combined. when it comes to nice asses, she's got the best there is. however, when it comes to personalities, she's got the best of those too, and that's why you can't do this. she's hot, and you'll probably think that for a good long while, but the less you think about it, the faster it will go away. besides, you might not ever see her again, so what's the point? from now on, no more thoughts of christine.
wait a second, none? how about just no more naked christine?
no, none. you'd be surprised at what you can do with your clothes on.
look, without christine, i am ruined. her and jim are the only ones who know, so i need to keep them both around.
what do you need christine for if you have jim?
christine understands. jim is a straight guy who is supportive of me becuase he wants me. christine is supportive becuase she knows what it's like, and i need that.
first, give the poor guy a break. maybe he's supportive of you becuase he thinks you're a nice person, not because he's dying to fuck you. and second, you might have a valid point. you can keep christine, but nothing sexual.
right, sure, no farther than a friendly hug.
ok, i guess a hug can't hurt...
how about-
NO!
yeah, ok, you're right. i won't let myself think about anything like that.
good.

yeah, i'm crazy. but there's nothing like a conversation with yourself to resolve important issues that only exist in your mind.

the only problem is that i'm tired. it's hard to control what i think. thoughts just start floating through, and i'm not controlling them, just watching them. christine's ass floats by and i panic. i can't think about this, but there's no customers and nothing for me to do to make myself stop thinking. i squeeze my eyes shut and frantically recite in my mind the first thing that pops into my head: one, two, one two three yeah inslumnational underground thunder pounds when i stomp the ground like a million elephants silver back orangutan you can't stop the train who want some don't come unprepared i'll be there but when i leave there better be a household name weatherman tellin' us it ain't gunna rain so now we sittin' in a drop top soakin' wet... i'm almost to the end of the verse when rashid asks, 'what in the world are you doing?'
my eyes fly open and i realize that my lips were moving. my god, i have to be crazy. there is no way i am sane. i mumble 'uhh, i was just singing to myself.'
his reaction is practically nothing. he just laughs and comments, 'fast song.'
'outkast,' i offer.
he shrugs (he doesn't know them), and then he goes back to his register and says nothing more about it. i wonder if he thinks i'm crazy. i wonder if i really am crazy...

marie is by me when i'm counting money. she pretends like she's going to steal it and i say 'don't do that.'
she asks 'why not? christine did it.'
i tell her i know, but she wouldn't do it again. she knows she messed up.
marie asks if i'd talked to christine, and i say yes.
she smiles at me and says, 'good.'
i think she remembers me asking about christine over and over when she got fired. i asked marie why, and how, and she knew nothing and i was distraught. i think she knows that getting the answer from the source was good for me. or i hope that's what she thinks... i hope she doesn't know more than i think she knows...
then she asks if christine is still terrie's roommate, and because i'm sometimes not so smart, i forget that i can make up my own answer, and answer just like terrie did yesterday: 'unfortunately.'
then she wants to know unfortunate for who, and i have to tell her, and marie has a big mouth and i don't know if that was something i was supposed to repeat. i can just hear terrie asking me coldly, do i spread rumors about you? and i would feel guilty.
i like talking about christine, especially to marie because i know that when she wasn't ready to kill her, marie liked christine a lot, almost like me. but it makes me miss christine too.

marie goes home. jeff goes home. rashid goes home. amit and teena stay hidden in their little corner, and there's nobody for me to talk to. i start to feel alone. i look down at the envelope on register 4 for coupons. there is the office sign-on number, and then the password. only it's not the way it's supposed to be. last year, christine wrote the password on that envelope, for me, in pen. somebody has put a printed sticker over her hand-written number, so i can't even see hers any more. it's the same number! what was wrong with christine's handwriting? i feel all this rage building up inside of me and i can't stand it. they covered up my christine! i tear at the sticker with both hands, digging and peeling until i get every last bit of it off, and then i can stare at the numbers written in christine's handwriting again. i run my fingers over the numbers while my anger fades back into lonliness, and i wonder if maybe there really is something wrong with me.

the lonliness gets worse and worse until i'm finally off work. i have to wait 45 minutes for molly to get off and take me home. i go to see her, but she's intently stocking and i don't have anything to say to her anyway. the atmosphere of the store suddenly feels fake and stuffy and i turn and head outside. this time, it's not for christine. it's a saturday night, and it's an hour past her visiting time. i know she's not coming, but i can't stay in this store. i go to where the fence used to be, and i sit down and look around. it used to be secluded and private, but now anybody can see me. now that everything's ripped out, i'm sitting in the middle of a curb, and there's nothing for me to lean into or cling to. i shut my eyes and try to bring back the fence. i lean slightly to the side and put my hands up to grip the imaginary fence. i squeeze my fingers and i can almost feel it. with my eyes shut, i can almost see christine crouched in front of me. i can almost hear her talking to me gently. then i realize that i might look crazy again, so i get up and find a real corner, sit in the shadows, and think.

i miss christine. it's not sexual anymore. as the day wore on, that went away. now i just miss her. something feels not right about me, and i don't know what it is, but i know she can fix it. only i worry that i'm confused and blurring the line between wanting a friend and wanting a lover.

i know that i want to see christine because i want her to help me tell the truth to molly and my family and maybe even lauren or alana or nikki or katie or chris. i really do want that. i really do want them to know. and as dumb as it sounds, i know that a little push from her will go a long way with me. i want to do it for myself, but i can't quite do it. i know if i told her, and she helped me plan it, or even if she just listened to me list all my fears, and then told me 'i know you can do it,' (which isn't stretching anything at all... that's something she would say) then i would feel like i had to do it for her in addition to myself. letting myself down is something i do every day, but i wouldn't want to let christine down. i love her... i can't do it for me, but i would come out of the closet for her, and in the end, it would be for me. i know that's how it would work. if i could just discuss it with her, i know i would do it. so it seems simple. what i want from christine is support and help out of the closet.

but it's not so simple. because what then? imagine, for a moment, that i'm out of the closet to the world. imagine that everybody-my friends and my family and even my co-workers-have been wonderful. they all love me anyway, and support me, and are willing to talk about it, and will even listen to me talk about terrie's beautiful ass, if i want to. then am i going to not miss christine any more? that desire to see her, to talk to her, will it just stop? i'm afraid that it won't. i'm afraid that what i really want is christine, and because i feel bad about it, i'm creating real reasons that i need to see her-ones that i don't feel so guilty about. so yes, right now i have managed to create a damn good reason. but what about when(/if) this is over? i'm going to have to come up with some other reason that i 'need' to see her, or i'm going to have to sit down and face the fact that the only thing i really need is to get over her.

but i guess it's best to not worry about that until it happens. later, it might suck, but there's no harm in wanting what i want now. if i ever see christine again, i'll work on discussing it with her. i've got to take life one step at a time, and my next step is to come out of the closet. if christine can help, there's no harm in that, right?

i'm rambling again. ok, molly gets off work. we go home, and i'm silent, still feeling a little alone. i make dinner. aaron comes over and he's high. he starts eating, and everytime he gets food out, i want some too. i wind up eating twice as much as him, and i wasn't even the one with the munchies...

they cheer me up a little. then, aaron turns on iron chef. i had never seen the show before. i watched the beginning and thought it was a spoof. aaron informs me that no, this show is for real. that makes it hilarious. as a spoof, it wasn't very funny. but thinking that this is a real tv show makes it hilarious! they play all this triumphant music and light up the chefs and rise them from the floor! they have announcers that describe every detail of the way the guy is cooking! cooking!!! who in the world came up with the idea of making cooking into a competitive sport? i couldn't stop laughing, and every time i slowed down, the announcer said something crazy, like 'he shows excellent technique when cutting that meat,' and i crack up again. molly laughed at me and aaron tuned us both out because he likes to cook and he likes the show. i was giddy.

i have since calmed down. i am no longer horny, lonely, or giddy. mostly, i'm just really tired. so i'm going to bed.

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Ineluctable modality of the invisible...

(Anonymous)
Not to stalk you (again) or anything, but re your concerns about the way your mind wanders. I have to say it all sounds pretty normal to me (but then that could just mean we're both freaks, hehe). I have to agree with the other guy (sorry fellah, can't remember yer name off the top of my head) and say that you would make a good story teller. The stream-of-consciousness thing is very popular, especially since the publication of James Joyce's 'Ulysses' - which I sincerely recommend you read. It's a bloody difficult book, but once you get some sense out of it you realise:
(a) Other peep's thoughts are just as bizarre, just packaged differently.
(b) Joyce is a lunatic and after you've read 'Ulysses' you can read anything (with the exception of Finnegan's Wake...)

Anyway, I think you probably just need to relax for a bit and chill out (easier said that done, I know). Now, wonderfully bizarre person that I am, I shall end with a random selection of quotes!

"What we do in life echoes an eternity" - Gladiator

"I woke up this morning / To the sound of breaking hearts / Mine is full of questions / And it's tearing yours apart" - Sheryl Crow, 'Home'

"A riot is at bottom the language of the unheard." - Martin Luther King

"Live as if you would die tomorrow; learn as if you would live forever." - Gandhi

Regards,
The Small Faced Boy

Re: Ineluctable modality of the invisible...

Mr. The Small Faced Boy if you like books that show the power of people's thoughts I think you would enjoy the book Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson. It's very powerful. Atleast I thought so.

PS
Jay=Girl :0)

~Jay~

Re: Ineluctable modality of the invisible...

(Anonymous)
Hey Jay...

Sorry about the gender confusion, my deepest apologies :)

I'll see if I get a chance to check that book out, but sadly I tend to have to read things for the purposes of study rather than stuff I want to read for pleasure. Cheers for the tip anyway. Oh, and you peeps don't have to call me 'Mr' - it tends to get abbreviated to SFB :P

Regards,
Mr The Small Faced Boy ;)

Re: Ineluctable modality of the invisible...

i still don't think you're stalking me. in fact, i was waiting for you to show up again with a new word that i had to use 3 times... whatever happened to that plan?

and thanks for the reassurance that i'm not as crazy as i might think (or that if i am, at least i have company).

Word-of-the-every-so-often

(Anonymous)
Sorry, didn't realise you were waiting on tenterhooks, heheh. I'll have to think of a word now...

Erm...

Hmmm...

Doylem! Don't know it's actual meaning, but it's an old Tyke word that's used as an insult. Like calling somebody stupid or an idiot - "You doylem!"

Go, use, keep, enjoy :)

The Small Faced Boy

That song you were singing with your eyes closed tight when Rashid caught you is totally awesome, my friend and I have been blasting it none stop since about two days ago.... Bombs over Baghdad! I love the beat...

The Iron Chef is very real and people watch it like they watch Friends or Ally McBeal or Queer as Folk. Do you watch Queer As Folk by the way, that show kicks ass!


I know what it's like to miss someone so much that it aches inside and that the only to make any sense out of it is to make up lame (and maybe not so lame) reasons why it is okay for you to miss that person. Of course having some one identify doesn't make it better but maybe it makes it less lonely.

*shrugs* Sorry I'm having a moment...

~Jay~

yeah i love outkast!

i have never seen queer as folk. i've also never seen ellen, or will and grace, or anything like that. the closest i get to gay-tv is mtv's the real world, only this season, i'm going to have to work when that's on... i don't have a tv in my room, and i'm worried about my roommates catching me watching any tv show that clearly has that sort of theme. hopefully someday, i can just tell them, but i don't want them to find out in a backwards way like that-by what i watch, or what i read. so even though i'd love to see/read some, i stay away from gay-themed literature and television.

hmmm... so if i'm crazy, i've got the small faced boy with me, and when i'm missing christine like crazy, i've got you with me. yeah, it doesn't fix anything, but at least i know i'm not alone...

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