C.I.A.

only you know what you've done.

i've been back for a couple days now. desperately pretending i can be forthright. my roommate just signed away his next ten years to the army. i just hope the war is over soon.

i think about writing so much all day but now i don't have anything to say. i wish i was drunk.

bare walls.

not being shy.

gin.

pretty girls.

bowling.

i think tomorrow night i'm gonna take a couple shots and walk around the campus in the dark with a good friend of mine. it's so easy to talk like that. i'm looking forward to it.

i wonder how it is i can be completely different depending on who i'm talking to. i don't realize it. i can't stop it. i don't really know who i am. that's scary.

i haven't really talked to you since you started going out with him. i guess it's because it just fucking gets to me somewhere. it's frustrating to be forced to accept that the guys you go for are not one bit like me. i never really liked him, not in high school, ever. he's arrogant. sort of an ass. i mean, i hope he treats you well... we were in a goddamn band together. i wasn't his friend... but the way he treated the guy who thought he was his friend? i hated it. and all these little catchwords? i see them. i hate them too. some days, i guess, i just hate.

there's something strangely endearing about first spending time with someone over the body of a sick girl in a friend's apartment bathroom.

judy and the dream of horses. no fucking kidding.

why are all girls so enthralled with horses? i mean... it's fun-ish. but not that great. not as great as they make it out to be. horsey girls. shit, and they seem to be the interesting ones.

i have shin splints like a motherfucker. it's real nice out in reynolda, though. i might head out there again tomorrow. if i can make myself. it's all about hating your body.

am i the only one with nobody to miss? sometimes i feel like the only lonely boy in the world.