Dakota's LiveJournal

Subject:	She parallel parked it like your mother wouldn't believe
Time:	8:50 am.
Music:	David Bowie and Queen - "Under Pressure".

I had a pseudo-fight with Choctaw the other day. He told me I should seek some help with anger management. Not that it was really mentally rehearsed and he'd actually remember saying that later but...anger management?
Yeah right.
As if I'd really want to tame the only passion I am capable of feeling.

Last night I saw Ani in concert. It was pretty disappointing. Much like everything else is these days, but especially because it was Ani.
She's the kind of singer that you imagine really does it just for the music and the people..but, unfortunately, one day you realize she, too, is just a performer like the rest of us. Just someone who can better articulate and replicate a certain period of your life.
As soon as I got there, I regretted it immediately.
The place was this huge concrete auditorium with balconies jutting out of the walls like the hands of Durga, reaching for something not even Ani could provide.
Below, a sea of estrogen with schools of muff-happy armpit hairy riot gRRRls.
Monday, I'm going to see Ben Folds.
I bet I could buy a lot of third world children dinner with the money I just spent on "entertainment."

I'm going nowhere.
So why am I so fucking stressed out about it?
I managed to convince myself that if I don't make straight A's for the rest of college, I'm going to be a homeless bum.
I told Terrill that I could never please myself anyway, so I spend most of my time doing things that my parents would like me to do or just pleasing other people.
I never even realized I felt that way until I said it.
It's a pretty depressing thought.

The most accurate is now, and it's the least godamn paid attention to.
For you can never remember exactly how it was...and you will always spoil the future by thinking of how it will be.

Just seems the older I get, the bleaker everything becomes. The less I can see things as they are - just the negatives.
Kind of like unprocessed film. Har. Har. Har.
Just sort of osmosis of my emotions into my surroundings.

Just turning into the hippie shit I hate.
Yeah, I know.
It's only in my head.

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Subject:	she is so deep that she's shallow
Time:	4:52 pm.

Whenever I feel like making big decisions, I like to discuss it with Julie.
Sometimes friendships fizzle and fade and stretch one another too far that it's just not even worth the painfully boring conversations that will surely ensue...but there is something about Julie that has always stayed fresh and enlightening.
Incidentally, she's never home anymore.

Knowing nothing of my personal situation (or past episodes of my "Friends"), I had a conversation about why relationships between older men and younger women can't ever work - for reasons having to do with levels of maturity (specifically sexually) with a couple of people last night.
Interestingly enough, I am supposed to make up my mind sooner or later whether or not I'm going to visit Choctaw over break.
I have the money, to be sure, but do I have the desire?
Do I even have the will to say no?
Christ...feels like mistake #1 chez Mattissons 2 years ago.

Sometimes life just feels too much like a fucking 70's rerun that you're watching from someone else's couch.

Sometimes everything you say sounds like a lame cliche.

I have the opportunity to do comp sci research here over the summer. Not because I have any talent in it, or anything, but because:

I'm a girl.

That is, in fact, the only requirement.

I'm not sure yet if that pisses me off more than anything else or makes me thank fucking jehova for my two X chromosomes.
Well, I'm applying anyway, so perhaps I won't ever find out.
Alternatively, I'm going to go to Colorado to work on a farm.

Looks like not coming "home" until next Christmas has an outlook of very likely.

Silly, empty girl.
Silly, empty dreams.

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Subject:	"Being sarcastic just means I like you - kissy kissy"
Time:	3:09 pm.

Saturday night I fell down the stairs. Not exactly down, but hard enough into them that my arms and legs look like I should find the closest battered women's shelter.
Additionally, upon attempting to play badmitton on Sunday, I sprained my ankle.
"Just call her gimpy," said Sonja.
One pathetic, wimpy giant, please.

I haven't had a cigarette since three weeks ago this Saturday.
I haven't had a drink since three weeks ago this Saturday.
It's amazing how annoying intoxicated people can be when you aren't one of them.

My, my, so condescending to her peers already!

It's hard to readjust again to having people actually second-guess you all of the time. I'm still pretty sick of the hippie shit, though.
Rich little brats, miserable from lack of suffering.
Soul-searching for what isn't there and buying into the psycho-babble that other people provide in hopes that others could see something they can't - except, it's just made up analysis to make up for the fact that "the rest of the world" just festers this lie that we're all supposed to be some sort of individual.
um, yeah.

I've decided that I will never be in love with Choctaw.
I've decided that I still don't believe in love.
I've decided that I want three daughters: Afton, Gaia, Dakota..so I can raise them in the West and teach them that the most important thing in life is not love, not money, not power, not success, not beauty but simply, not to be afraid.

In other news, I cut all my hair off.
I think perhaps I'm a little depressed.
A little empty. A little bit scared to fall asleep to these continuous nightmares of things I'd never want to share with anyone else, much less myself.

It's going to be another restless day.

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