First ever one of these, yay.
Over the last couple of weeks I found it that I was unable to express myself in any other than diary form. I was rushing down the street to catch my everyday afternoon after school bus, and I was having a conversation with myself in my head, complaining to an imaginary buddy trapped inside the paper sheets of my journal, words spilling everywhere and constructing themselves into masterpieces, without me lying even a letter onto the page. All I could do was rant and prepare outlines and come up with yet another idea I would never actually write. Not this week, anyway. I was filled with such incredible anger I surprised myself, and that rarely happens. I was full of confusion and irritation and I didn´t know how to vent it out.
Wednesday night I got a Snapchat message from my friend. Two girls with eyes painted carbon black, on a bright flouorescent red and green and blue disco lights background. “Party gals!! Spontaneous idea.” read the description line. “Fuck you” was all my spontaneous mind could come up with. The following response wasnt well-thought through either – ” Next time the two of you go out without inviting the rest of us again, don´t even bother to text me. I sleep better at night not pissed
. A day after she opened it. I checked. The last time we saw each other we did not talk about it. I guess this is how arguments go down in the 21st century. I want to punch mouths or walls with my right hook. I need to scream at somebody or possibly smash porcelaine. I need to be yelled at. I have to be hurt by words so I know it´s real. So I know I haven´t made it all up and everybody´s just standing by, with mildly, but not really, concerned looks on their faces, hanging around, while I go batshit crazy.
Thursday night I sat down to finally finish the gift for my friend, with the little help of an entire Fall Out Boy discography put on shuffle, when “bang the goldrum” came on and I lost it. What I wanted to do was rip the paper up and write a huge I HATE YOU sign across the pages, because I couldn´t for the life of me cope with this hopeless sinking feeling of losing all my pals, battling the constant change between recklessly not caring and desperately wanting the old times to return, because all of these feelings are valid and important and at the same time there was no more left fucks I could give. What do I possibly write inside a birthday card for a person I used to once call my best friend and I adored her so much the affection leaked from my pores for all the world to see? I am done now, empty. The waterfalls have suddenly stopped pouring, the lakes have finally dried out.
Hour or two later I finished the gift. I wrapped it up all neatly and then I went to bed. Stomach full of leftover holiday cake after watching the entire season of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt in one sitting, with the inevitable arrival of school again a sudden gloominess came over me. I am calm at last. Tomorrow I will give her the present and she will be genuinely happy, because I know her well enough not to buy her crap she wouldn´t like and because she can´t fake joy. I will compliment her dress because she´s got an amazing fashion taste and I will discuss the whole unpleasant text message situation if she wants to.
Scrolling down the webpage of my dream university, I will dream of my future, with them still around. I still want them to feel happy, and partially I want to be the reason they do. Friday night I will dance like crazy at the party and then I will ride the first morning train back home moving too fast to watch the sun through the window. Sat besides my two best friends, I will be happy. Just because I sometimes find loving them hard doesnt mean I´m simply gonna stop. I am confident enough that the rain will start coming down soon again.
Living, observing and writing it all down 