9:35 am - Saturday, Nov. 16, 2002
Song:
I wish I had the right attitude. Not an attitude, because I�m sure I have one of those. No, the right one.
I�m not sure what exactly right is though.
I�m caught between what I think I am, and I want to be, living like John Mayer�s No Such Thing but I�m one of those good girls. I�ll do my college thing, despite the fact I don�t want to. There�s so much more out there. I�m going only for the writing classes, because I love words too much for the pain they cause me. If a boyfriend hurt me and pleasured me and loved me on such extremes as words, I�d say it wasn�t worth it a thousand times, and fuck him all the same and say I love you every night. In those ways my nature never changes. It�s dramatic.
Explaining in a coffee house why I like to have writers block, and wish it happened more often. It means my mind stops writing every situation and I can just live it. When it�s being recorded in perfect little sentences in my mind, it needs flavor. I�m so much more apt to make it dramatic. Or say those little things that, when said by movie stars on the big screen, are cunning and well plotted, and with myself, over dramatic and bitchy.
I�m looking for a savior and wondering what I mean by that. I�m falling off a hundred cliffs trying to find meanings to what I say, because the dictionary of Megan has been far misplaced. Float it back on my river of tears, I think it�s in the possession of someone I hardly know. Maybe it�s my own fault. I give away my words freely and frequently. Everyday writings in this diary. What happens when I run out of words, when I�ve given them all to this? You�re absorbing my words and the water you shed at any point of your life allows them to escape. Next time your crying, try to send my words back to me, because I think I�m losing what I had. If, indeed, I ever had anything.
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