||[Jun. 27th, 2005|06:43 pm]
|[||My emo today is:
|[||What's making me feel good today:
|||||Wake me up when September Ends by Green Day||]|
This post is going to be MAD FUCKING LONG because I couldn't get to LJ for a few days, and I have a lot to say.
First: How was Saturday? I went to my dad's house. We saw Be Cool and Hitch. Both funny. I felt the whole time like I was going to throw up because of Friday's news. To be honest, I think I handled myself well.
I got home around midnight, after getting the first bit of sleep in more than 48 hours. Only an hour and a half. And yet right now I'm awake and aware. I can't help but think I lost a large span of time somewhere, or gained somemore. I'm not too sure.
I was on Aim at around 1:46 am. I got word at 3:08 am.
His name was..is Eric. Nickname was Raven. His mother says I can post no more of that kind of info about him, because she doesn't want time to repeat itself. I can never explain that in a way you'll understand, but trust me, it's for the best. And beside, I respect no one like I respect his mother, Amanda. Her whole family has been there for me.
His accident was on Thursday. I heard about it Friday. A van hit him while he was on his motorcycle. He was in critical condition up until sometime before 1 am. He slipped away during a morphine dream. I didn't even get to see him, he lives on the opposite coast. His older brother, Alex, will be reading a eulogy (sp?) I will write. I was more than honored to be asked to do this.
He was only 19.
It's not fair.
This has shown me things:(1) Don't waste you life. (2) Take everything of you and use to too make a statement, for you won't recognize your final day until it's too late. (3) Everything has purpose, and nothing is trivial.
He was beautiful. Unique. I may have been in love with him.
Everything was so fuzzy when my parents split. Nothing mattered, least of all school. Then I met him. He showed me beauty, but I never really fully grasped it. I may never now. I took everything for granted, and if not for him, I probably would've flunked a grade or two by now. I even took my friends for granted, and for this I am so very sorry. I do love my friends, but I never trusted anyone, and I didn't realize until tonight how much I love them all.
If I have EVER been weird or alienating or mean to someone who I am lucky to have calling themself my friend, I am so profoundly sorry. I can't stress that enough.
I'll be numb for awhile. I feel like shit, but I quickly scabbed up my wounds. I'm not telling my parents. In his words, it would cheapen the spirituality of realization, to allow outside beings to dominate a singular moment.
The last thing he'd want is for his friends to be swamped in motherly sorries as the days go by.
And besides, what would making them worry about me change? It would make me more alienated is all....
The last R.I.P. I dealt with was for David, my first guy-friend who died of cancer when I was in 2nd grade. I didn't find out until this year he was dead, or should I say i didn't accept it. I hope they meet eachother and hangout. They would've gotten along great. I know it.
I love them both.
Everything feels worse now, fake, stale. I'm living in Barbie's Hell House; Plastic and motionless.
Recognizing mortality is something I'm not mature enough for. When I was told, I didn't believe it. When it sunk it, it shook me down to my knees. I'm still shaking...
Sorrow. Sorrow like rain.
Sunda.... was... weird.
I didn't tell my mom, but I couldn't fool my dad. My dad handled me like he should have: a quick sorry, then act normal. He's great. The best dad ever. He was a little more blunt with me today. We talked about everything that had nothing to do with death, until we got on the subject of cigarettes. Don't ask me how we got there, I do not know. He said if he finds out I took a few drags from someone else, he won't care. But if he finds a pack on me, I'm doomed. That's special right there, to be so understanding like that. It was a surprise. It may sound trivial to some, but you had to have been there.
I'm glad my mom knows not of this. When she told me about David earlier in the school year, my being upset that I didn't know about it was, to her, reason enough to tell the guidence office about it and have them talk me out of running away and killing myself. I felt so alone in that office being drilled about that sort of stuff.
For anyone who is planning to spawn, belive me you, this is the extremely WRONG way to handle this sort of situation. Then 3 months of close observation and extreme tabs, followed by hours daily of empty compliments is like puking on the garbage heap.
No offence to David, but I didn't even cry. Yes, I felt horrible that I didn't no, and I wasn't allowed to say good bye back then, and I wanted to kill his mom for not inviting any of his friends to the funeral, but since it was so long ago, and I was so young when it happened, it didn't have the same affect, if that makes sense.
As it is, every other second she compliments me. Don't get me wrong, it's good to compliment people, but if your child asks you to stop staring at her for the fourth time, and thanks you for the same comment on their hair (that looks no different than other days) for the 17th time, you should really stop. She tries waaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy too hard to close the generation gap. I swear, the first time she said, "Yo, hurry it up. We're gonna be mad late." I laughed so hard I felt guilty. And if I hear her get the lyrics to one of my favorite songs wrong again because she obviously hates the band and the song, but it trying to save face, I will smash her radio. Listening her go "Ashoo, Ashoo, Ashoo shoo shy. Ashoo Ashoo a shy." during Noodle's solo in the Song "19/2000" by the Gorillaz while shaking in what looks like a seizure doing gang symbols with one hand, driving the car with the other, eyes closed and head flailing about in the air while my friends are in the backseat laughing into eachother's arms so she can't hear is just a little much for me.
Yes, I know I'm babbling. I'm trying not to think of Eric. His brother says the Eulogy I wrote made him cry. I did my work well.
I took a walk this morning at like 2:30 am. To a few houses. Friends of his and mine. We went to the first park we could find and had a little bon fire while listening to Green Day (his favorite band) until the police came. I never ran so fast before. That was the East Coast vigil, I guess. Go us. His Scranton friends weren't invited though. His Scranton friends didn't like him hanging out with younger kids, so they ignored us. He went to such a prep school before he moved...
But, I feel a lot better tonight. I was alive earlier. I had never been so scared in my whole life as when I heard those sirens. And the constant sick feeling that I might get caught by someone. My heart was thumping so hard I could taste it. I got kissed.
Went to some college kid we met tonight's place (we all had some sort of weapon, don't worry...) and watched one of my favorite movies, Dream with the Fishes. Everybody who was at the bon fire was crying. You have to see it, if you haven't. Go out and rent it. Now. Like, right now!! DAMMIT!!
I can smile now, which is good. I'm vaguely normal, in a weak sort of way. I'll just be my usual self, and all the shit will go away. Things will be great. I can feel it. It has to be. Right?
-sigh- Sentimentalism will be my end.