Peeling an Orange
<< 11:40 a.m. - Friday, Dec. 10, 2004 >>
I�m counting down the minutes before I have to go to class. Always counting down. I forget how to start entries. I am forgetting how to do this the way I like. Cause it never seems to sound right. And I get distracted too easily.

� All the caps lock buttons on the computers are beeping whenever pressed. Not exactly sure what the hell that is about.-

I�m breaking down all the pieces and layers. I�m excavating all the rules I have created over the years, and trying to understand. Why am I this way? Learning how to live without constantly evaluating my life. Just existing. Without hating my inconsistency. I have to admit though, the latter part really isn�t working.

I end up feeling like I�m living as a half. Feel hollower. The house is harmonious. I love all the people I�m living with, and am accepting that I don�t have to smoke or drink as frequently as the rest, and can still end up feeling like a part of things.

Farther in a corner, someone is whispering that happiness is shallow. That I am giving up the deeper and more melancholy sections of myself for this. I need to move all the time, can�t sit still. Making up for the unexplainable lack. Every other day when I submerge my head in the chlorinated water of the pool, I feel a kind of bliss. Something like the idea of exfoliating dead layers of self. Letting old things finally die. Peeling an orange.

But what I am without the past? What am I without a skin?