baggage's Diaryland Diary

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Do I look fat in this self-pity?

My laptop keeps me warm. Despite the chilly weather, and my lack of pants and a proper T-shirt, my laptop is generating enough heat to keep me comfortable. Despite the fact that I've worked 14 hour days this week, and despite my lack of sleep from the night before, I'm sitting alone in my living room-reading journals and writing while Girl-Unit sleeps a universe away in the bedroom down the hall.
Despite all this: I'm out here alone and awake-refusing to give in to sleep's demands; thinking about matters out of sort, and holes dug deep.
I'm a bastard. Or rather, I'm real close to being a bastard.
I'm fantasizing about visiting Spain-thinking, wishing I was somewhere else-wanting more than the life I have.
Apparently, I am not as far above cliche as my ego led me to believe.
Yet another disappointment rears its pretty little head.
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My friend J lost his job today. He said he quit, but his buddy tells me he would have been fired. When J called, his voice had that familiar tinge-that high-tonality of alcohol. His hair would be a mess and he'd be dancing-confessing his love for everyone around him- covering up his insecurity with smoke and loud music-as if it would be enough to erase the mistakes of the past four years.
You must understand: I love J. He's as close a friend as anyone could be-but I don't know what to do with his baggage. I don't know how to help him or myself.

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Dearest Vex:

Your ability to distill your emotions and mental state into the perfect combination of words astounds. No doubt. I was going to comment on your past three entries-possibly offer some sage advice-maybe even come up with a nice combination of words myself-but, have decided against it. My words just can't compare.
A part of me wishes we were a 15 minute drive apart although I have friends less that 15 minutes away that haven't a clue as to what's wrong or what's right in my life.
What makes me think the distance really matters?

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It's almost 2 am. And the soundtrack of the moment is the aquarium's air pump. It's strangely soothing-and almost covers up the ringing in my ears. My chronic-induced buzz is fading-although I still feel it tugging away at my attention-leading me on to what it claims to be a better place. It's time to sleep this off.

1:48 a.m. - 2005-04-16

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