10:42 pm - Monday, Jul. 21, 2003
Song: Funky Town - Lipps Inc
Strange how things can hit all at once. It�s as if they never issued that tsunami warning, just all of a sudden you�re under a wave without any higher ground.
It�s sitting in a parking lot at 11pm crying because you�re grandfather once called Chris Old Navy. Bawling because it�s dark, and you�re trapped in a car, and it feels like a coffin and oh God. Because didn�t your mother just buy you�re grandpa an Old Navy hoodie just two weeks prior for his birthday. Just before he died. And you all know his body was fine, that his mind just gave up.
It�s watching yourself deteriorate and the only thing you know to do about it is to complain. Because you don�t want to get up, or move or cry anymore about silly things or weight or looks. Just complain and curl up.
Its knowing only one person wants to hear about all of it. Only one person lets you scream at them that you hate them, that you never want to speak to them again, and still tell you he loves you when you�re crying.
It�s always being in the dark, because that�s when things are all right to cry about. It�s better to be emotionally detached. Though you suck ass at it, you know?
There�s you and dark and a phone and you hate him and he loves you. That�s when pillows serve as only friends, and it�s okay to cry again.
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