The First Day of Winter Break/ Christmas

So here I am again. Treading the same dark blue water, listening to the same overly sentimental love songs. Three years ago I barely ever listend to music. Now I get trapped in songs and the memories they rain. They're places I often don't want to revisit. I won't. I don't need to. The past is far too ground in reality. I prefer the possibilities of the future.1

I watched some middle third of Titanic today. In time for the sex scene and the gaudy blue necklace. I had just opened five nicely wrapped presents, none of which were anything close to a suprise. Last year I worshiped the holiday; this year I have a ambivalently romantic view of it. I long for my movie perfect kiss under the non-existant mistle toe and I know the only place I'll get it is in a story I write or a movie I make with my cheap, new video camera. I know I picked him to lust after by both chance and necessity and I know I've fallen only for the version of him I compiled in my electro-ly mischarged brain.2

My feelings became more sexual the last time I saw him. And the time before that. They continue to build, fed by countless TV sex scenes and dozens of descrptions. It wasn't just that I wanted to fuck him-- I wanted to fuck somebody. It wasn't a thing of horniness; I was simply sick of my virginity, sick of waiting for some close-to-perfect guy to sweep me off my feet. In a very feminist kinda of way, of course.3

I had progressed. Devolved. I had less free time and continued wasting it on nothing in particular. I kept thinking of nerve synapses and broken blood vessels. I couldn't hold my camera steady to take close ups of nothing in particular.4

Things are never working out but they're never looking down. It's a boring ride with barely any rolls. I'm waiting for the shock absorbers to malfunction so I can break out of this morphine perfect coma that I don't even pretend I'm in. I'm still searching for words to describe the fact that I have nothing worth saying.5

I can't even pretend to want to say I love him, just to make it seem bigger, because I know it's miles from the truth. But I won't deny how much it stung to hear the word NO, to think of him lusting after some other girl. Is that worth repeating now that I'm back to wanting him? I don't know and I never want to. I could have anticipated everything that's come but I ignored all the hints. This year is lonely and it's a suprise, even with everything last year was. I still wanna fuck away the pain that isn't there. I still wanna bite, scratch and hiss till the entire world changes for me.6

But is anything really changing? Probably not. Life is cyclical. We all return to our roots. We pick up our bad habbits time and time again. We fall for the same bad matches, fall into the same predictable patterns. It takes a lot to break the mold. I'm still waiting waiting for a shooting star.7