I didn't destroy things as badly as I thought I did... although I still do have reason to cry. Destruction is destruction, though - I had my chance at being with her and I lost it by being a jackass. I'm not going to let what I did crush my dreams, though. I can start over from the beginning, rebuild what I tore down, start and go where my heart leads me. I may have destroyed all the trust she had in me, but I'm determined to rebuild it. Fixing this is going to be my goal for as long as it takes to make things a reality once again... and if they never reach that point, at least I can say I tried. Tried hard.

I know I was thinking about something else, but I forgot what it was... It couldn't have been more important than that anyway.

Later, DS
~ All my fear is unfounded, all my doubt is wrong.

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Well, I sunk to a new low, hit rock bottom, and hoped that things would get better. But, after a few minutes of pondering my last interaction, I've realized that I've gotten myself into a situation that optimism won't correct. I completely destroyed the single most important relationship I've had in my lifetime... all because I did something without a whole lot of forethought... and when you combine that with doing something completely new, it comes out as a, "Holy shit! You really screwed up with that, buddy." Except... You wouldn't say buddy because you'd be disgusted... Do you understand what I mean?

I mean, I've been crying over this for three days so far and, although I've been doing rather well at hiding my frustration at school, I don't think it's going to work anymore. I'm more moody than I've ever been before. I've yelled at friends, family, and pretty much anyone who's interrupted my thoughts in that time and I know I've killed more than just this relationship by doing it... People are starting to walk by and call me an asshole, but I'm none too concerned about that. I'm completely focused on what sent me into this spiral. The first domino to fall.

I don't know what came over me, why I did such a thing... but it's my responsibility. I can't do a damn thing about it. I might've made everything work out if I hadn't done this... I might've been happier than I dreamed I could be... even though I was before all of this started. I could've kept climbing the ladder, being content, resisting the tempting apple that hung off just a tad out of reach... I didn't even want it. But I reached, fell, and ruined her life. Even if she says I didn't ruin it... whenever she decides to say something about it, I know I've scarred her. I think Tim was right about me.

I want to escape myself now, run away from all of this, run to a place where I could follow her and be happy... To a place where she could be happy.

I have to stop now. I'm making myself cry again.

Later, DS
~ Just one chance is all I ever wanted... and I let it fall into the flames.

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My life was really boring a few days ago, then it got very depressing yesterday, and today it's still-sort-of-depressing but marginally better than yesterday... I think. I've been really confused about some things that I've done, to say the least, and I'm not sure where I stand with the person I offended at the moment... Which isn't good consider just who it is.

To lighten my life I will, once again, spin a yarn for my betterment and your enjoyment.

This morning, I woke up and found myself in vacuous space that is... space. I was sliding down the Milky Way on a what I thought was a shooting star. I looked a little closer at my ride only to find that it was a lemonhead. The sweet goodness that was the lemonhead slowly dissolved in the Milky Way as I rode along and, when there was nothing left, I skidded on my butt for a few feet then drowned.

Being dead was fun, I realized as I drifted through space, but I decided I had better get back to normal life and go to school, so I began my downward plummet into the Earth's atmosphere. Being the great mathematican that I am, I calculated the correct trajectory required to land in my house but, being the bad physicist that I am, I missed my mark. I ended up falling straight into a wardrobe filled with, you guessed it, a mint-condition, steam-pressed, Elvis-signed pimp suit and a considerably less interesting caged monkey.

Since most of my clothing was burnt in my descent, I put the suit on and walked out of the pristine wardrobe, recognizing my ability to successfully phase through objects at will thanks to my great understanding quantum physics, and looked in the mirror. Aside from the still-smouldering, charred flesh that barely clung to my bones, I looked rather sylish. I could even go as far as to say I was "pimpin' ". (Oh god, that's a scary thought...) Then the owner of the house came into the room and stared at me with unbelieving eyes. He said, "No! You've defiled my monkey pimping suit!" It was my turn to stare at him with unbelieving eyes.

After a while, he resumed his everyday activities as if I weren't there and began to mime dressing in his suit. I coughed. He finished "dressing" and grabbed his monkey and started to leave. Then the man asked the monkey, "How's the Emperor's new suit, Bananafamarama?" with a tone that instantly told me he does most of the speaking in those late-night infomercials. I shot him a disgusted look and asked why he had work the Emperor's new boxers too. He simply smiled and said, "Well, since everybody's got something to hide but me and my monkey, I figured, what the hell, why not show him off?" I said I wasn't talking about the caged monkey. He said he wasn't talking about it either.

Soon after that, I was hit with a log and I got amnesia. Then I went home in my new pimp suit. I snuck in the back door and went to my room and changed into my dull, everyday school clothes, hanging up my new suit next to my old, rather worn one. All was well, so I got in the car and drove to school. On the way, I crashed into an airplane... but that's another story entirely.

Later, DS
~ I'm very suspicious of any organization that has a handbook... I've got my eyes on you Boy Scouts of America!

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I've been really bogged with homework and the like lately. Physics is the bane of my existence - I really wish they had given me my other alternate class (even though I don't remember what it was). But I'll manage, I suppose, since I can get most of my required sleep during the weekends.

PE isn't nearly as fun as it was last year. Mr. Thompson is one of those "I'm going to sit back and watch the class" types. I mean, when I TA'd for his rock climbing class last year he didn't seem to want to do anything along the lines of teaching. Oh, sure, he could say, "You're doing that wrong! Stop it or you'll kill someone," but that was generally followed by, "Hey, Rob, go over and show them how to do it." I really don't like teachers who don't teach.

Now that that's out of my system, I went to the movies with a large number of people yesterday. I had apparently been invited during recess or something, but I wasn't really paying attention and I didn't hear it until people started yelling at me and saying how stuck up I was because I never acknowledged the invite. I think my zoning out could have something to do with Ms. Lighty calling me stuck up, too, though I don't know what she really meant by it when she said it... besides to say that I'm stuck up.

So, yeah, we saw Wicker Park. I seriously think the script-writer had to have been schizophrenic. It was definitely a weird movie.

I don't really have much else to say as my life is non-existant at the moment.

Later, DS
~ Dishonesty is the second-best policy. Second is not all that bad.

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I'm not so completely unlucky of a person as I once thought myself to be. I'm not going to say why, exactly, but if you read this thing anywhere near regularly you should have some idea of why. That said... I'll say something else.

My first unit for PE is weight training. I'm not particularly enthused about it, since I've never liked working out... which is why I don't do it. But after that we have rock climbing and I have to be a TA again which also sucks because I'm not going to get to climb. Mr. Thompson can be really annoying like that.

Let's see. Homework is starting to get the best of me once again. I've spent the greater portion of the night working on it for these past few nights. Ms. Price is going to be the death of the concious portion of my mind.

When I was walking down to the Alberson's parking lot today, my friend Harry the baboon came over to me (and by came over, I mean he made his usual dive off of the nearby appartment complex, exploded on contact with the ground, spraying me with chunks of brains and vital organs, and then recollected himself with telekinesis). He asked me why I refused to give him a dollar when he asked last. I simply notified him that he was a bastard. He retored, "I know your mother!" I stood there pondering what he was trying to convey through that and, eventually, he walked away. I waited for him to start crossing the busy street to call out, "Hey, Harry." He turned to see me waving, nodding, and then pointing for him to look at the oncoming car. Thankfully, Harry couldn't jump out of the way in time and the car hit him. Then he died rather slowly. Since the traffic was stopped, I took my time strolling across the street. As I walked past him, he started twitching and sputtering and he even managed a look of pure hate. I think he was trying to wave his compound fracture at me to say, "Hi," too.

Later, DS
~ Never ask Mr. Quatch if "beckers" (beakers) were named after the singer. He doesn't take that very well.

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I have a great deal of homework to do for tomorrow and I'm none to pleased about it. At least my math isn't due tomorrow. That would suck, since I didn't realize I missed the assignment on Friday. So, yeah, on to less boring parts of my life. Oh wait, nevermind, I wrote a poem yesterday. Now I can move on to non-boring things.

I walked into the bathroom during lunch today since, y'know, I had to take a piss and I stood in the mini line for the stalls. Eventually I got to be first in line and in a few seconds, some guy came out of a stall. I moved to go into it and he held it shut and said, "No, there's a guy in there." I swear I must have gotten the most horrified look on my face - I could feel it. A bit after that, a second guy came out. Since it was the only open stall, I went in and I was slightly more horrified and definitely more disgusted to see wet shoeprints on the seat. Needless to say, I had some very, very unhappy thoughts while I pissed.

That was the highlight of my day since I didn't have the opportunity to talk to any small woodland creatures or eat an eraser (someone stole mine).

Later, DS
~ I buy stamps by mail. It works rather well until I run out of stamps.

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