Bright Lights

The days are getting better, much better.

Why should I feel bad?

I think it's a rather weird feeling that overcomes whenever I see my friends out drinking and going to parties, it's not that I criticize them, or put them down for drinking, I actually in some sense kind of become almost envious. Not exactly at the sense that I'm not drinking, but that the people I basically grew up with use drinking and partying to "bond" with one another... it's like, because I never partied with you or shared that ice cold beer with you, we hardly exchange words.

I realized not drinking, or going to parties have put me in a rather lonely state here in charlotte, if anything, possibly at any college I may attend I'll remain working, and school.

I don't understand why I get a little sad when I see 764 photos of people partying; it's not jealousy either. I'm not jealous that I don't party/drink as much as them, or that I'm not partying every night, or at all; it once again goes back to the whole idea how drinking and partying are such a social thing that I am lacking.

I have great sober friends, I have great friends in general... except three of them live two and a half hours away from me.

Don't rearrange what I've so clumsily put together; I don't miss drinking, or partying, I miss the social gathering. The attention.

Lingering Memories that just wont Die.

I had that same dream I had while I was in the hospital... I hate the hospital... this smell that slowly treads itself on a crisp bitter wind. It's not the smell of death, or disease... but the smell of a surgery room, the cleanliness of it, the radiation, the metal. It gives me chills thinking about the doctors pushing my bed around the surgery rooms... that smell makes my stomach twist into a knot.

The night I laid in the hospital before I blacked out, I remember with immense details of this dream corresponding to the fever I had.

I remember helplessly laying in my bed, burning up, almost on fire... all I wanted was the luxury of a fan; that's all. There was a fan at the foot of my bed, but it remained off and teased me while I sweated pain. However, I knew how to turn the fan on but it required that I find 50 stray hair length hairs... yes, I know it sounds completely ridiculous but I painfully twisted and turned my body in the hospital bed to only come up short and find 49 hairs. I cried and called for nurses to please turn the fan on, but no one came. The room was dark, the door shut, and I was left to soak in sharp pains, and freeze as the chills kicked in. I could never get the fan on, and the entire situation seemed to laugh at me hysterically as a result of failing to complete that task. I don't know why this dream still comes and goes... it scares the shit out of me and has me wide awake for the rest of night.

A lot of weird things happened in the hospital... a lot.

Wow, I finally understand...

I feel just like Drake...

I finally get it, haha. I finally understand the mass confusion and frustration he dealt with.

Pleased to meet you,

I really enjoy the whole thought that people stumble upon what I write, and are entertained for a few minutes :) It's funny how I can warp something as simple as to putting butter on toast, and making it epic, because I hate writing in such a boring manner. I enjoy making people think, and I'm not to bad at it either.

Well, I received a rather exciting phone call from my madre, turns out I maxed my credit card... hahaha, yah... I can't exactly lie, or go around the fact she was looking dead at my bank statement. I'm very tempted to put that credit card in a envelope and send it back to fayetteville so I'm not tempted by it's "I'm plastic cash that you can swipe till $700." I really would use it on outrageous things, psh, like I normally do.

That was a few hours ago, at this moment I'm actualy writing my argumentative (I'm tackling the unfairness of the SAT), and my profile (paper about seeing Copeland live) papers for English 101 easily. It's honestly about time I've gotten in a mood to write. I was on a hiatus or almost a writing strike, UNWILLINGLY for the past two weeks. I hate when I can't write. It's a weird feeling that I can't write whenever I want, but when I feel it, and know the wheels are turning, I spit ideas after ideas onto any surface.

Anyway, today is Jon and I's two weeks, I know that's nothing for most but, I'm proud of myself for still being with him, and still head over hills in love with him. He's coming here this weekend, a very pleasant surprise, and he's helping me paint my room :D

Off subject, I stole my brothers xbox from fayetteville... and I can't even get xbox like to work in this damn apartment... all that and I don't even enjoy killing people on xbox live, what a shame.

If you map out your future, make sure to highlight the path you plan to take.

I have a meeting with my advisor that conflicts with my doctors appointment at Chapel Hill tomorrow... great. I'm canceling my doctors appointment, because whether it's right or not... I kind of feel my education out weighs my doctors "check up appointment." I guess I'm healthy, other than the fact my eating schedule is tore up, and I started taking my medicine again because my parents begged me, I'm curious to see how my blood work would of looked...

Today, I did a lot of day dreaming... It actually progress worst as the day continued. This morning I got up early for my English class at 8 am. and had no problem doing my research paper, now I'm skipping between myspace, facebook, this and word. I guess my thoughts are a little scattered. A little shocked still that Jon actually loves me and told me he loved me last night, and more so shocked that I feel the exact same way. I guess, I never thought someone would "love" me, I never gave anyone the opportunity to do so. I'm still getting use to telling him over the phone, how I'll do it in person, I have no idea. None the least, I can't wait to see him and everyone else Friday when I head back to Fayettenam.

I'm a little short on money this month, it has me a little worried... but I think I'll be fine, I have 8 more days of work, plus the extra 5 days I volunteered to work before the rent is due. I've been a little sloppy with spending money... I'm stressing myself out to be quite honestly... -sigh-

Life is so boring in Charlotte... I love it... well I love the city, and school and even though I'm always finding something new to keep me entertained; I still feel trapped. I work Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday... and school Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. It's a very boring routine; oddly enough my only day off basically is Wednesday. I really wish I could see Jon more than just the weekends... but it gives me something to look forward to as the week comes to a close. I was extremely happy when he came up here last weekend, it was wonderful to finally have company and soak in someone's presence.

Well, It's cold and winter is rearing it's icy hands around the corner. I'm done writing... not really, I actually have to write this argumentative paper on the unfairness of the SAT... I'm about to make some hot cocoa, and hope it give my brain a boost.

Good night.

I've never had so much trouble saying this.

but, I love you Jon.