It's 4 am. I've been out, wandering the campus, looking for my roommate. She's missing. she's been puking. allegedly she is with 'chad'. As I stole though the dark campus, the normally absent starry sky straining its way through the overwhelming glow of nearby LA, I thought about how stupid it was to be out at this hour of the night by myself. Especially since this is the end of substance-free opening and everyone on the cmc campus is drunk and ready for action. There was a loud party or two still going on as I walked, far away but I could still hear every lyric of the song they were playing. I could hear an owl in the nearby trees. It reminded my of home. I could get raped, I told myself, paranoid as usual. I remembered that terrible feeling of fear that shadowed me so often while I was abroad. Reasonable fear, considering where I was. I had forgotten it; downplayed it when I replayed it in my mind. I was wearing flip-flops. It would be hard to run away. I wondered if I got raped while I was out looking for her if that would make her stop drinking so much. I wondered if that would be worth it. It's a null comparison because I don't think it would make her stop. I'm worried about her.
I couldn't find her.

I ended my own night very early, I drank a little tiny bit of rum, only because she wanted me too. That was a stupid reason. It took the good mood that I had been cultivating by hanging out with ranor all night and turned it emo, distant, and sad. I snuck away from the party only moments after having arrived and went home to read my geology text. yeah, I know, it's saturday night, but is that really more sad than what the rest of my friends did? They all drank, Lauren said, and they all became sad. All of us have spent the past week reveling in our happiness to be back in this place; tonight revealed our carefully suppressed sorrows. I'm still worried about my fish. He's got that swim bladder disorder. I think I ruptured it when I dropped his nalgene on the sidewalk. I had it by the lid and the thing that keeps the lid attached slipped off. He's so frustrated. It's all my fault. The internet said with time he may heal, but I have to deny him food: pretty much his only joy in the course of a day. And then there is that boy. He wrote and said he was sorry that my computer was broken. He's only sorry because it is inconvenient to him. I wasn't online so he thought I'd blocked him. That's why he was sorry. He didn't say he was sorry about my fish being sick. I love my fish; my computer is just a machine. Who cares if my computer is broken? People who really know me know that my fish means much more to me than anything like that.

But he never really knew me.

The problem I face is that I don’t understand myself. So I would really be amazed if someone else said they knew me. I do hope your fishy gets well soon.
» CONDESCENDme on 2005-09-04 10:48:37

hot hot hot?
Is it iced tea?
» theZEBRA on 2005-09-04 11:48:08

i know kungfu
WELL THEN, I don't know. Lol
» theZEBRA on 2005-09-04 09:51:16

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