I have diaries that I let no one else see. They're objects of pain, with few entries, or outlets of longing, with no dates. Integral parts of me, pieces of my soul in cheap binding. I do not read these diaries very often. They describe my darker emotions, the ones I don't show to anyone, no matter how much I care about them. The sociopath in me walks through those pages, and I try to keep her shut in by hiding those diaries away, pretending they don't exist.
I found one of those diaries today. It was around this time last year, when Dirk and I first became involved again. I read it, and could not believe how selfish I was...why was I like that? Was I just trying to fit the stupid philosophy that Ken had drilled into me, that sex did not necessarily require love, and it was almost expected for friends to sleep together casually? I was so lonely then, and most people would have believed otherwise. I almost didn't recognize myself in my writing.
I've started work on my novel again, after over 2 years of doing nothing to it. Hopefully, I'll get it finished before I die...that's all I'm shooting for. I'm starting off by editing what I've already written (all 57 pages of it). Then, I'm going to write down the story line, and do the character profiles. After which, I'll begin the major research. If anyone out there's from London, or lived there for a number of years recently, please e-mail me. I've never been there before.
Dirk and I went to this used CD/record store today, called The CD Exchange. Their CD selection's fairly shitty, but the back room is full of some of the most incredible records I've ever seen. I found two that I had to buy: Iggy Pop's "The Idiot", and The Velvet Underground and Nico. I still can't find the CD, though Ken claims he doesn't have it. Asshole. I should have confiscated more of his stuff before he left.
On that note, I found one of the books he desperately wants back, "Please Kill Me." Just when I was beginning to think I'd have to buy myself a copy. Think I'm giving it back? He can pay back the $1,000 he owes me first. Then, I'll think about it.
I tried looking for something enlightening to read, but all I came up with was, "Why Cat's Paint." Honestly, when I made Ken buy me that book, I thought it was a joke. I'm still suspicious...I've never seen my cats even act like they want to paint. Maybe they're just not artistic enough. Maybe I just haven't given them the opportunity, i.e., set out paints and a canvas. I could be hindering them in some way...or else I made them so bonkers that they couldn't paint even if they wanted to now.
My family's so obsessed with appearance. My aunt called to talk to my cousin, and she flipped out when her daughter admitted she'd gained some weight. What horribly stupid people. They don't even try to hide the fact that they judge themselves and each other using very shallow criteria. But then, I guess my cousin wasn't raised to have anything more of value than her looks. Her purpose in life is to snag a rich husband and spend his money.
Maybe I'm being too harsh, but really, what else is she going to do? To the best of my knowledge, she never even graduated High School.