fuck you, you confuse me when we talk the way we used to talk before you ran away from me, panicked and scared and you're sweet and nice and wouldn't harm a fly and you say that you don't have it in you to be mean but i think you don't know, you just don't know and you say we should do this again soon, that you know tomorrow i'm busy but maybe...and i interrupt you because i don't want to count on you, i don't want to depend on you, i don't want to expect...expect anything, hope for anything...and my head is mixed up...and i wonder when the last time i took that pill was because i can't remember anything from before we met downtown...and i hate that all my anger, all my anger at you just seems to disappear when you are nice to me and i wonder where that came from, where that comes from...a black dog, waiting...sometimes i think i would starve to death patiently waiting for you to come back...only i'm not sure who "you" is sometimes...are you a loop, a pattern...or do you really exist?

this search, done in arabic, is the latest in strange queries that have found this blog:

• michelle - loving you is heaven, missing you is hell

right...i'm believing that.

so whatever...it's a few hours into monday and i'm wide awake...and i have to remember to get my key back because it really doesn't do any good where it is now...

besides the search query "scariest places in the universe" that, for some reason, pulls up my blog...i have three different heaven and hell searches in my blog stats:

• pictures of what heaven and hell will look like and feel
• heaven and hell ball game
• heaven and hell mystery play

so ok now that i've gotten that out of the way...tomorrow i leave for vegas until saturday so don't look for me until then.

i am the star of my own invisible world.

it's been over a week since i've heard your voice and even though we've sort of talked via IM, i'm still not sure how i feel about this whole thing or what's going to happen or if everything is just fading and i am once again invisible...but then...maybe it is just west nile fever. or maybe mono if you want to go old school.

mid-september and it looks like the weather may soon start to drop down to fall temperatures and i miss how comforting and crisp and exciting the fall was when i lived in virginia, brilliantly colored leaves and the smell of apple cider and hot chocolate that we'd go get at the 7-eleven after band practice, all stuffed in my car...that terrible maroon car that would stall out at most of the lights on route one where the only way to restart it was to slam the back left door and the trunk at the same time and, no, i cannot recall how we discovered that combo or if it really was legit fix or just some voodoo magic that we all believed in so that my car would make it across the highway to where shaconna lived...but in all my years in the midwest, i've never again been able to find the beautiful harvest and i think that it must be somewhere out here...and i think that maybe i should take a drive in early october and try to find it...that's what i want for my birthday...to see the fall again.

my knee touching yours and all i could do was stare at the ground, my hands...what to do with my hands...and i feel like it was almost like i was washing them off, trying to rid myself of something...cleansing the anger, the sorrow, the hurt...my wanting to slap you so hard across your face, scream at you...but to what end? and instead i just sat there for a while, staring out the window at the low, flat rooftops of downtown, at the tornado sirens, the towers...all those towers downtown and i remembered the woman who was ready to jump last spring and i wondered what it takes to make that kind of decision...and finally i just said that i guessed that there wasn't much left to do now, that i should leave...and you said that it wasn't over, it wasn't over, it wasn't over...

all damn day i've had this feeling of "seattle" and i couldn't figure out why and then it dawned on me, oh...9/11...that's where i was...and it seems like it was much longer than two years ago...it was really only two years ago?

so for some reason i decided to get up from my desk and wander up sixth street where i learned that all the local businesses are supporting software theft by no longer offering software for sale but none of that really matters right now because i'm back at my desk, where i'm burning up from fever and i just ran into cece at depresso where the two of us had an incoherent conversation, the kind that only sick people can have and it doesn't seem insane and some guy is listening in to our conversation and decides that it's cool to comment on my last statement about "well, the server at work crashed and i have to redo the last few weeks of work but i don't really care because it's not my work and they won't let me work from home so what do i care what i do to fill up the time" and so the guy turns to me and said "yeah, but it's somebody's work that was lost, don't you care" and i'm, like, thanks for your feedback, go away now.

fucking cold...where the hell did this come from?

past midnight and i'm already thinking that tomorrow's a hooky day from work and i just can't stand to be awake or asleep right now and maybe it would be good if i just went away for a few days only where would i go anyway, could i just show up on someone's, anyone's doorstep and say please let me cry here for a few days, please let me cry and hold me until it's over and let me tell you about what happened that night at the er...that awful, lonely night, sitting there in the waiting room with a stupid tupperware container with a dark green lid that i saw again today when i was cleaning out my car so that there was enough room to help you move nothing apparently and i wondered, briefly, if i should bring it in and wash it and i decided that that was pretty much the last thing that i wanted to do so i put it in the trash bag with the mounds of parking tickets, aborted thesis proposals, old coffee cups, and faded gas station receipts...and i figured that i might as well throw it away too and i know that if i ever told you about that night as it happened versus in vague and hazy details that you wouldn't be able to handle it and who the hell said that men were the stronger sex anyway because how can that be true?

yeah, yeah...holy fucking god, it's september. and some days into it even.

the latest weird searches that have found my blog according to my web stats:

• fucking in my shop salesgirl
• bum bum ba da bum bum...what a bum bum
• i hope you cry when you get home (ok, that was an easy one...it's a direct quote from cw lyrics)
• honorary reo speedwagon way
• blacksburg scrapbook stores

god...

it's 1am and i have an early morning meeting with my advisor and i'm pretty much fucked aren't i? i had good intentions...really i did. but it's this time of the night where i start to think...hmm...what if i stayed up all night and just wrote? could i get something done in the next seven hours? or should i just try again at sleep...my jet-lagged boyfriend out since 10...it seems like a cruel punishment to crawl into bed next to him and wake him with my fitful, anxious sleep-mimicking state.