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2003-07-07 -- 11:08 p.m. Seeing as it is already as late as it is and I am going to get slim to nim sleep no matter when I decide to crash, I'm going to WRITE THIS OUT. First of all, I would like to comment on my want for cencorship of Alan's entries concerning nakedness in his bed and massage oils and my mom wanting me to get sleep. This is not so much about cencorship specifically, but more generally about argueing with Alan. I went on diaryland that day, already feeling losery and alone, and I read the first paragraph of that entry, sighed, cradling my forehead with my left hand, skimmed the rest of the entry as fast I could, and then pushed away from the desk and continued on with whatever it was. I know one thing, I felt worse. My mom was the next one to read it, stumbing upon the entry face-up on the computer screen an hour or so I had encountered it. I don't know, but this is enough to make me go to the bathroom mirror, look at my face in disgust, and announce "Fuck it." to my reflection. I go to my room and blast music into my ears, ruining them for when I'm a pilot and will need them, but at that time, I do not care one bit. At that time, my life is such a tiny, relative nothing that I no longer wish to preserve or cultivate. At that time, I am merely Me, and I will go through living however life chooses to face me. I am exhausted of trying to be good, and live the right way. The music is all I hear, it is the moment, it is all that exists. Hell with everything I've worked for. Hell with everything that was and will be. Hell with Alan being "right" in my brain, but not in my marrow. Hell with all. And so we come to this: Alan is right-- ALWAYS. He tells me that "Maddy, the only reasonable thing to do is tell the truth." Then there's a big long arguement to follow, and it makes snese, what he says does, and so I say "okay, he is right." But then the time hits the dime, and the only thing that feels right is to deceive. I walk into a store and smile at the man walking out, even though I feel like shooting up the store. There are topics that I have been brought up to believe are to be kept QUIET. I have been taught that certain situations require you to act certain ways, UNCONDITIONALLY, REGARDLESS of how you feel like acting. I have also learned, through experience, that people react differently to different information. I can tell a person anything I want. It doesn't have to be true, as long as it produces the desired result. Arguing with Alan is such a joke, because it's not arguing at all. It's me asking a question and him telling the answer and me agreeing with it. Maybe I'm gullible? I don't think so. I think any half-decent debater could come back 'round the other side of his argument theirs would sound just as true. As a matter of fact, I think Christina would be *excellent* at this! In the mean time, I'm going to keep on taking what other people say and agreeing with it, all the while secretly knowing that I am in the ultimate right-- knowing that they, and everyone else, are ALL 100% RIGHT. 1+1=2, right? I keep trying to figure living out as though it were a math problem. I want to solve life, so that I can go about living in the correct manner. But it never works, and so I'm now starting to pay more attention to my marrow. And it's working out just fine. Profile
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