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Mon, Aug. 1st, 2011
I'm just mad at this girl. Furious. Even though this was done probably RIGHT after the semester ended, I'm still mad. I did put it behind me and counted the friends that I know are loyal and don't lie to my face, but that dream I had. I'm thinking more about school. The dorms are in there every night. This one was bad. The other one--with the woman eating my heart and the dream within a dream didn't scare me. It was funny actually, but this one causes so much rage.
The things this girl said in my dream. Yes, I know it's not real and I'm imagining a worst case scenerio, but it hurts to think that girl could say these things in my wildest dreams. And the fact that I cared for this friend. It's hard for me to trust anyone. Truly trust. But I took a chance and it turns out that I was a tool. I was used for school assignments. I cared for this person. My throat lurched and my stomach dropped when I thought this girl was in trouble. I wanted to fight when injustice was taken against her. That's not usually me.
Reflecting on this makes me sad. I want to cry but I'm too angry. I want to confront her, but there's a reason I never confront anyone. I get angry. My heart races. It's either biting, asthma attack, or punching. But the good thing is I don't have to see her every day. She's away from the dorm. She's in her fancy apartment with the other don't-cares. So how am I supposed to care? I'm glad I'm not in painting with her. Fuck it. I can paint by myself and then take the class my senior year.
If I see her face, it'll be too soon.
But I must be serene. As hard as it is. As much as I want to unleash this rage, I cannot. That's no way to start the new school year. I'll stick to my single with my friends not too far and you stay in your apartment, away from me. If I'm lucky, I won't even see her at dinner.
The things this girl said in my dream. Yes, I know it's not real and I'm imagining a worst case scenerio, but it hurts to think that girl could say these things in my wildest dreams. And the fact that I cared for this friend. It's hard for me to trust anyone. Truly trust. But I took a chance and it turns out that I was a tool. I was used for school assignments. I cared for this person. My throat lurched and my stomach dropped when I thought this girl was in trouble. I wanted to fight when injustice was taken against her. That's not usually me.
Reflecting on this makes me sad. I want to cry but I'm too angry. I want to confront her, but there's a reason I never confront anyone. I get angry. My heart races. It's either biting, asthma attack, or punching. But the good thing is I don't have to see her every day. She's away from the dorm. She's in her fancy apartment with the other don't-cares. So how am I supposed to care? I'm glad I'm not in painting with her. Fuck it. I can paint by myself and then take the class my senior year.
If I see her face, it'll be too soon.
But I must be serene. As hard as it is. As much as I want to unleash this rage, I cannot. That's no way to start the new school year. I'll stick to my single with my friends not too far and you stay in your apartment, away from me. If I'm lucky, I won't even see her at dinner.