I feel like talking. I see a giant sea of black umbrellas, tomorrow, I can see it....it's supposed to rain, it's going to rain all week, the ground's going to be wet and muddy. But I can't bring my umbrella, because my umbrella is white with rainbow polka-dots, and you do not take that to a funeral. and I can't really wear my raincoat either, because it's bright blue, and everyone else will be wearing black...I'm going to, though, because I'll be wearing a black dress. but it'll still be raining, and I don't want to stand there and look dumb... and I'll be out of school and I'm starving right now.
I was taking pictures of things while I was driving, which is a really bad idea, and listening to Sufjan, my favorite Sufjan Stevens, and all the things that that entails. It's like a punch in the face. And I was thinking this is why I write, there's so much stuff. I mean, I don't write because it's cool or because it's popular or because I'm stuck-up or I studied, I write because it's what I want to do. I want to communicate with people, I want to let them know how I feel and make them feel the same way. It's the only way to tell people what's really happening, what's going on. Even though it can be interpreted different ways, it means the same thing. Whatever it meant to you, it's going to mean the same thing, no matter who reads it, and that's the beauty of writing. If you're a good writer, you can make it mean that to someone else. You want them to feel what you're feeling, you want to connect with them on that level. That's why I'm so bad at talking to people I don't know. Or even people I know. I sat next to Jason and Nick tonight and I had no idea what to say to them. I just sat there. I just feel so uncomfortable around those people, like everything I say isn't going to be cool enough...and does that make sense? being 'cool enough', that's silly, but when you're cool with people you're understood and you understand. I'm not that. I don't know how to relate to people. Maybe I am eccentric enough after all.
But it's so hard to connect with people, people who I don't know anything about, or people who don't want to do anything or be anything. I don't know what they want. What do they want out of life? What are they doing to get it? Do they not know what they want, do they want anything? I don't understand. You've got to feel something, you've got to want something. I can't connect with people I don't understand. I don't know, I'm crazy, like a psychpath.
This week has been so busy and I only have a half a tank of gas. I get so worried about gas all the time. I get so worried about everything, it's like...I don't know. I say it's the way my parents raised me, because I worry about the cost of things all the time. I live in a three-story house on the lake with a giant deck. We have three cars, two boats, a three-car garage. We're not living in poverty, but I worry about the price of everything. I buy sunglasses at the dollar store, all my clothes come off clearance racks (except for what my boyfriend buys me), everything I have is cheap. I'm afraid of getting new things, I'm afraid of spending money. I'm afraid of having nice things, I always say I'm poor even when there's $80 in my wallet. I'm so conservative. I'm seventeen, you're supposed to be really liberal, and not care about that stuff...but I'm so conservative, so cheap. It's so strange...worrying about nothing, about everything. I care about everything, I don't want my parents to have to buy me gas and support me, I don't want to make people worry, I don't want to be any trouble to anyone, to ask anyone to do anything for me.
But I want to know why people do things. I care about stuff like that. I want to know why people do what they do. Not why their brain is making them do what they do...I want to know their reasons, what are they thinking in their head? Because if I understand what they're thinking that makes them want to do something, I can understand them. Then we can talk about something. But if they're not going to talk to me, then I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do with Monica because I wrote her this letter. badmonsterletterodoom. ughletter. I was just trying to connect with her, trying to get her to talk about it, because she won't talk about it. Anytime you ask her how she's doing, she says: "I'm fine." Okay, you're not fine, you mom just shot herself. I want to say Stop trying to be strong for everybody, stop trying to be fine, it's okay. We're there for you. I want to grab her and shake her and be like STOP SHUTTING YOURSELF IN THERE. I want to know what's going on, I want to be in there with you, I don't want you to go through this by yourself.
I don't want you to go through this by yourself.