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Venting Paragraph Warning
Nov. 7th, 2006 11:59 pmGot-up. Got online. Saw library notice to get Poppy Z. Brite's Guilty but Insane. Went-out.
After going to the library, dealt with two ladies who see me on the bus after getting a toasted, plain bagel with butter and a small cup of coffee, cream, no sugar inside the donut shop.
They're the type who believe in smiling especially when depressed, don't want to see me looking so sad so much of the time, and didn't comprehend my remark about masking. They can't comprehend how I can say that I told my parents that I don't love them anymore and want me to think really think about these things before I say something I regret. It takes a long time before I go from thinking to actually telling my parents these things and only after I can't bear not saying it anymore. They asked me what would I do if my parents died and I told them clean-up after the estate. They went-on about how long it can take to settle an estate. I don't think they comprehend that I was being pragmatic since last I knew, someone gets stuck doing these things. Attempted to say that I might feel a little better if I took some time to put myself together in the morning since it currently looks like I don't care. Made a remark of unless you're going for some kind of Punk or what do you call those people who dress all in black? (The other filled-in with Goth.) I'm not sure how they could have missed the visual cues of black pants with bondage straps, black & grey striped socks, and Docs. Does a brown hoodie with the words Dunkie Junkie and showing a white shirt with the same words underneath really short-circuit minds that much? The remark of putting myself together for a boyfriend or a girlfriend depending on how I am is the first time I've really seen recognition about someone not knowing me well enough to know my orientation. Why did I agree to see a film with them Saturday? Oh yeah. Seemed easier at the time than objecting.
So anyway. . .
Went to Allston to tell Sue further messages from mystery person. Went as far as having another message for her before she told me he finally got in contact with her. (Note: this was after getting-off of a Greenline stop, becoming confused if it was the Boston College stop or not, getting-back on to go to Park Street, going to Coolidge Corner, getting a small orange juice at Peet's Coffee, taking the bus, getting a small cafe au lait at Herrell's, confusing the employee at cash register by saying au lait! like it was ole!, reading a chunk of Guilty but Insane, and then walking back to Regeneration Records.)
Picked-up a flyer in Regeneration Records for a skate shop and asked an employee if he knew how to get there. Took the number 66 bus going in the Dudley Station direction and got-off at Stop & Shop and walked-down the street. By the time I got to the Brookline Village Greenline stop, I decided to declare myself done with the attempt to find the shop.
Went to Davis Square and got a Little Piston sans tomato and a small root beer to go from The Diesel Cafe. ( http://www.diesel-cafe.com/ ) It's a sandwich comprised of mozzarella, pesto, greens, and such.
At home, the mother ordered-out for cheese pizza. I only took a few bites of a slice.
After some time online, I went to bed again.
After going to the library, dealt with two ladies who see me on the bus after getting a toasted, plain bagel with butter and a small cup of coffee, cream, no sugar inside the donut shop.
They're the type who believe in smiling especially when depressed, don't want to see me looking so sad so much of the time, and didn't comprehend my remark about masking. They can't comprehend how I can say that I told my parents that I don't love them anymore and want me to think really think about these things before I say something I regret. It takes a long time before I go from thinking to actually telling my parents these things and only after I can't bear not saying it anymore. They asked me what would I do if my parents died and I told them clean-up after the estate. They went-on about how long it can take to settle an estate. I don't think they comprehend that I was being pragmatic since last I knew, someone gets stuck doing these things. Attempted to say that I might feel a little better if I took some time to put myself together in the morning since it currently looks like I don't care. Made a remark of unless you're going for some kind of Punk or what do you call those people who dress all in black? (The other filled-in with Goth.) I'm not sure how they could have missed the visual cues of black pants with bondage straps, black & grey striped socks, and Docs. Does a brown hoodie with the words Dunkie Junkie and showing a white shirt with the same words underneath really short-circuit minds that much? The remark of putting myself together for a boyfriend or a girlfriend depending on how I am is the first time I've really seen recognition about someone not knowing me well enough to know my orientation. Why did I agree to see a film with them Saturday? Oh yeah. Seemed easier at the time than objecting.
So anyway. . .
Went to Allston to tell Sue further messages from mystery person. Went as far as having another message for her before she told me he finally got in contact with her. (Note: this was after getting-off of a Greenline stop, becoming confused if it was the Boston College stop or not, getting-back on to go to Park Street, going to Coolidge Corner, getting a small orange juice at Peet's Coffee, taking the bus, getting a small cafe au lait at Herrell's, confusing the employee at cash register by saying au lait! like it was ole!, reading a chunk of Guilty but Insane, and then walking back to Regeneration Records.)
Picked-up a flyer in Regeneration Records for a skate shop and asked an employee if he knew how to get there. Took the number 66 bus going in the Dudley Station direction and got-off at Stop & Shop and walked-down the street. By the time I got to the Brookline Village Greenline stop, I decided to declare myself done with the attempt to find the shop.
Went to Davis Square and got a Little Piston sans tomato and a small root beer to go from The Diesel Cafe. ( http://www.diesel-cafe.com/ ) It's a sandwich comprised of mozzarella, pesto, greens, and such.
At home, the mother ordered-out for cheese pizza. I only took a few bites of a slice.
After some time online, I went to bed again.
