you know what i said about starting to get into the swing of things? well, that was a lie. i have been so depressed the last few days, it has quite literally rendered me incapable of functioning. all i want to do is sleep, so studying is broken up in brief segments broken up by nicotine, caffeine, and making mixes. last night i escaped campus to go buy a book, love is a mix tape by rob sheffield, after it was suggested to me by a friend. i put a copy on reserve out at the one barnes and noble in the greater jackson area, unsure of when i would pick it up. very shortly after hanging up the phone with the sales clerk, however, i realized that i was in desperate need of a break. driving seemed like a good choice. music to drown out my uncertainty, hands on the wheel, finally in control of something in my life. as simple as it is, i think a lot of my love for driving comes from the control i have. will i make it from one destination to another safely? yes, because i am in control of my car, my actions, my muscles. it is nice to have that certainty, or at least the facade of certainty.
after driving out to old agency, i was met with a small disappointment. they did not have the signature hot chocolate mix at the cafe in the store, leaving me unable to enjoy my oh-so-desired espresso truffle (fuck licensed stores), so i stopped at the northside starbucks on my way back to campus. book in hand, caffeine in the other, i sat through the first two chapters and made myself leave. i could have read the rest of the book from beginning to end right then. i am going to make myself finish a heartbreaking work before i finish love is a mix tape, however. another week worth of breakfasts with dave eggers in hand should do the trick.
it is ironic that some of my life's most poignant moments coincide with my darkest hours. the irony that they can only shed a bit of optimism on my situation whereas they should make my life feel that much more fulfilling is not wasted on me. who knew that the person in whom i find so much solace finds comfort in my words? that is a day i did not think would ever come, but it has. it is still surreal. there are times when i listen to his words, concentrated straight to my eardrums, and i cannot grasp how much i have in common with this man. maybe one day i can mean that much to someone else, the way he means so much to me. i guess no one is really 'normal.' or we are all too normal, or something. i don't know. roles and expectations can be so inverted at times. this constant play back and forth is always entertaining. i do wish our relationship could much simpler, however.
i have a ton of latin and archaeology homework. i am somewhat overwhelmed by it, but i have been incapable of working the last two days. i did nothing productive friday evening, just hung out in sam's room, working on a puzzle and listening to some old records. not that old, but good regardless. saturday was dinner with martha and caroline, martin's for a brief moment, then something that somewhat qualifies as a bonfire party out in the ridgeland area, then sleep in the comfort of my own room. nothing last night, either.
i give up. i think it is time to shut certain doors in my past. i am no longer offering up my history and my illness as the explanation for anything. if you don't know, it is your perogative to go seek the information somewhere else, not from these lips. it will not haunt any more friendships, any more relationships. it is a part of my past, and it is time to box it up and put it up on the shelf. same with this childish infatuations. instead of waiting around aimlessly for someone who i have already let into my life, who knows my insecurities, my shortcomings, i will just close them off and move forward. maybe it is time for new chances and new opportunities to be taken advantage of. that is, if i am able to rouse myself from this suffocating apathy. or this drowning. or some other equally consuming and impossibly overwhelming, unavoidable analogy for how i feel.
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