I keep listening to music, and hearing it, and trying to find something in it. I don't even know what I'm looking for. It corresponds to the mood I've been in for a while, though. I'm restless. I don't know where I'm going anymore. I used to be really sure, and then I had no clue, and now I've just got all these ideas. I'm slowly, slowly coming out of my shell a little, developing a little bit of confidence and it's really scary, because it puts me on an edge. I can either stay the way I have been, doing most of what I should and some of what I shouldn't, but mostly just floating with the tide, going with whatever happens and follow the way it takes me, or I can actually stop floating and stand there, and say that this is what I want and that I'm going to go for it. Such as Lila. But that lets in so much risk. Because if you just sort of go with things, if something happens you can avoid it and float by it and just sort of hide from it, make it go away. But if you really go for what you want, there's no more saying "well, it was just something that sort of happened." It turns into, yeah, I want this, and I went for it, and here's the outcome. They call it owning your actions, at school, and it's something I've never really done. And I really think it's time I started going for what I want. I want to be somebody. I don't really know who just yet, but somebody. Somebody people remember. Somebody most people like. Somebody who's not so scared. Somebody who can make you feel like a little bug with a glance, but who won't. Somebody who can get along with everybody, except maybe John Alden, cause he's an asshole. But his hair looks like cat puke, so... Anyhow. I really don't know. I want to know what I want. I want clear goals. I want to take the time to have a nervous breakdown. See, I think half of this wierd feeling, this restlessness, is that I'm finally going somewhere. I'm succeeding. I'm doing what I want to do, and I'm discovering that it's nice, but now I have nothing left to fight for. I need something to push against, and I don't have anything anymore. I get along with lots of people, I'm friends with my NY friends again, I'm at the school I wanted to go to, and doing well there, I'm really starting my life by myself, and it's scary as all hell, and it feels too easy. And I still have this masochistic, self-destructive voice in my head telling me that it is too easy, that any minute now I'm going to fuck something up, and that wants me to do so, because there's just something about the fact that for once nothing's wrong that's really scary. I can't explain this, I don't understand it, but it's like being happy is making me depressed. Little things get to me more. I don't know. I'm not making any sense. But I'm just restless.
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