I don't know why I think in metaphors.

Ummm. I'm in a funny mood. Spent way too much time alone today and it makes me want to talk. But it also brings out that person in me that wouldn't mind being alone for another day or two. But that person isn't a happy one. Not like the social me. So I've got to fix this tomorrow.

And staying at hope causes upsetting things to happen. Like Dad knocking on my door at midnight to ask for a razor to shave his head with. I told him absolutely not. If he wanted to shave his head he could wait until tomorrow and go buy his own razor. He wouldn't go away until I have him my razor. I told him I wanted the handle back and not the blade. Gross. And he promised he would bring it back. An hour later I go out to investigate because, does it take more than an hour to shave a head? And he has no idea what I'm talking about. "You want me to give you a razor? Chandra, did you have Sarah's razor? I would look in the bathroom if you need a razor, babe. Or maybe the kitchen. Whats wrong with you?" And they are both stumbling around and talking at each other and not listening to what the other one is saying. So, so high on something.

I finally found the razor and went back to my room but they keep making noises out there like they are banging things around or dropping things. And they keep yelling at each other from different parts of the house.

And everyone seemed just a little weird today. Or maybe I was weird. Jeremy said I was weird. I don't know whats going on. But the whole day was awful. Just awful. And what about tomorrow? I don't want another day like this one. Too much alone. Too much weirdness. And its hot in my room. And my bed feels all wrong. Its too warm. And I didn't do anything active today so I feel gross.

And I just wanted to talk to someone. About anything at all. About nothing. Just talk and talk until we both feel like someone understands a small part of us. But instead I read a book about faeries and wishes coming true in the most awful ways. And race issues in an upper-middle-class African-American California neighborhood. Strange book for a strange, strange day.

Wishes. I wish I could say whats on my mind all the time. That would be awful, wouldn't it? I just wonder if everyone else is walking around trying to construct the words in sentences that will best convey the most important parts of what they are thinking without upsetting the other person. Worry.

Worrying never helped anything at all, did it?

And it seems sometimes when I have a thing in my hands, I am too worried about when I'll lose it that I never actually enjoy having it. Never occurs to me until later that maybe when it is time to let it go, I'll be done holding it too. I never realize that sometimes the magic wears off right about the time I should be leaving anyway. No, I clutch it close to my chest and pray its never over.

I must be too emotional. Because I can sure make a list of the rational reasons I should or shouldn't do a thing. And then I run headlong into what I feel like doing, reasons or not. Sometimes, the right thing and the thing that feels best are the same thing. But only sometimes. Other times they are complete opposites like both sides of a magnet.

I've been feeling all kinds of awful about me lately. Like there must be a hundred thousand things wrong with me. And I'm sure there are. But not any more than before. Not any more than anyone else. So why am I walking around trying to hide behind this version of myself I think people might like best. Not good. Because then they only like the fake thing. And they don't know me. And then I resent them for not finding the real me I wouldn't allow them to see. So complicated, I know. This is how my brain works.

Apparently when I get really tired and I'm trying to focus, my head slowly drops further and further to the side until the deep angle starts to make my neck hurt.

I was just thinking about those shirts that come with all the glitter on them. So cute. And when you wear them the glitter ends up on your skin a little so that if the light catches your left wrist just right there is a sparkle of light. But then after a few washes the glitter wears off. And then, is it the same shirt under the glitter? Maybe this is a horrible analogy for what I mean, but it works for me.

Unlike my space bar. Which inexplicably refuses to work after only some of the words.

Yep. All emotion. All about how it feels now versus how it felt before and how it might feel tomorrow. What a horrible way to make decisions.

I know what I want. Or part of what I want. Its a part that hasn't changed no matter what else has. And I keep finding things that sort of match up. Almost right. But the important part is missing. I could fool myself and say every other part is perfect, who cares about this one, tiny little piece? But I care.

So I'll wait. Because I don't want almost right. I don't want wondering and hoping and waiting that it will magically turn into exactly right. So I'll wait . Because I deserve it.

And I've said nearly nothing that should make much sense. Sorry.