uncensored...sorry.

This is my niece, Addi Rae. It's hard for me to express how much I want to see her.

My eye has been twitching forever. It's the right one. Just the right. All last week it was twitching. They say it's lack of sleep. It's my eye lid saying, "Um. EXCUSE ME. heyheyheyhey. I'd like some more quality time with your cornea.heyheyheyheyhey."

I haven't gone to bed before 1am in over a week. School is crazy, you know? It's just constant. It's constant juggling. I could fill my entire day with school stuff. But I won't. I refuse.

We are mean to our bodies, us college students. We're always shortchanging them...which actually translates into shortchanging ourselves. We're shortchanging ourselves. Well, duh. Let's all take a minute to apply a life lesson ..................................................................................................

I've been listening to "Brick" By Ben Folds. It's about a girl getting an abortion, I think. It's from the perspective of the boyfriend. There's this one part in there that just...sucks. It's after it's all gone down and they're driving home and it says...

Driving back to her apartment
For the moment we're alone
Yeah she's alone
I'm alone
Now I know it

Alone. I've felt that before. Well, not that. I haven't felt that. But man...to be with a crowd of people and still feel alone? It's awful. It's the worst kind of loneliness, I think. Why don't you get me!? you're screaming in your head. But nobody notices... thus feeding the loneliness.

We're built for that you know. for companionship. relationships. investing. We're built for investing, dear friends. If we don't invest, we don't live.

I have a week and two days left of school. 2009-2010...you're almost finished. You'll get rolled up in the memory bag, and will from now on be referred to with sayings like..."Remember when?" and "Man, I miss..."

I got offered an anti-trafficking internship in Washington DC. I haven't said that yet on here. Mostly because I'm not positive what's going to happen. It's unpaid, and I need somewhere to stay. For free. See. There lies the complication. It's weird asking people to open up their homes when you don't have anything monetary to offer...it's even weirder asking people who know people...and it's even weirder getting names from people and then writing them COLD TURKEY (I think this is actually a reference to quitting smoking or something...but I wrote it and I'm keeping it) asking them if they know anyone who would be willing to open up their homes. I'm just depending SOLELY on generosity. I'm depending on good Samaritans who, amongst all the junk they already have going on in their lives, have to think about a potential stranger inhabiting their space for three months.

But I am excited. I'm not using exclamation marks because I'm not really in that mood. My face is very...normal right now. No expressions. Just...my face.

My friends are hurting. This year has been fairly low key for me. Not much drama, not much emotional turmoil. But my friends...man they're hurting. and I hate it. Even the ones who don't talk about it...I see it. and I hear it. and I hate it.

I was walking to my car today and thought about emily's blog about the mass slaughter of people that spilled over right outside the hospital in Chad where she was an SM( I may not be remembering this right...check her blog if you want the details). She saw people who were murdered. murdered. I remember her writing something like "I always thought that there was good in everyone. But now I don't know." I thought that today. I thought about how we manage to all hurt each other, but we're all good. We all WANT to be good. Is everyone good? Do serial killers have good in them? [CONFESSION: so when I initially wrote this I wrote "cereal killers" and I didn't catch it until after I posted it. Maybe it's always been that way in my mind... maybe I've been picturing Captain Crunch and Tony the Tiger throwing it down all along.] Do they long to be loved and cherished? Maybe they did once...but that opportunity passed and now they just want to squelch all the good.

Well now I've run off and talked about serial killers [again "cereal"] at one in the morning when all my roommates are asleep. And now I'm scared. There it goes...my overactive imagination. Running wild and free through all the corners of my brain. There's this bump that makes up my forehead that sticks out a little further than...the other part of my forehead... and someone once said it was my imagination station. It's where all my imagination is stored. I think that's a good explanation for it. It's better than calling it a beluga whale bump.

Well I think that's it for the night. I wanted to write...and I did. It's ridiculously choppy and basically breaks ALL the rules of writing (sorry Amanda). But it's uncensored...and sometimes that's what I want from people. I wonder what it will be like reading this in the morning. There's not really a theme to this so here... I'll draw one for you so you can feel satisfied.

Let's love better. Will you help me love better? I'm bad at it.

20 replays of "Brick" later and 1:45am. and my eye still twitches.