total recall
Bloody brutal self-honesty.

I ran into an old friend today on Instant Messanger. Haven't talked to her since this summer which was the first time I'd seen her in two years. And two years before that she was my best friend of eight years. My soulmate. The fire to my water. And it was happenstance that we talked today. It was the strangest, surreal memory. And then she was gone and I was back to my daily existence.

But instead of continuing to idle, my brain turned inside out.

I'm not sure if it was the warm milk, the philosophy paper, or talking to my best friend of eight years who lives states and nations away.

But suddenly I'm upside down. I'm inverted. I'm breathing nostalgia, except today it hurts.

Simply put, I'm missing my past.

I miss having a best friend. I miss hanging out with Sian and ridiculing my sisters. I miss slumber parties and malted milk balls. I miss making fun of boys and staying up late with Lesley watching Escaflowne. I miss Palace and talking to people who seemed to know me better than myself. I miss the bottomless and eternal passion that the smallest spark could incite in me. I miss being awake and being horny twenty-four hours a day. I miss being with Alex and really trusting someone. I miss not trusting myself. I miss hating the way I look and being suspicious of other people. I miss trite conversations that went on for hours. I miss being a child to my parents, to myself, to others. I miss not having to pay bills and having someone cook for me. I miss being the center of a circle of friends. I miss the drama and the instability. The stability and the stagnancy. The light and the darkness. I miss winter and my paper route. I miss writing poetry and seeing music. I miss sex being exciting. I miss eating and not wondering when to stop. I miss sleeping past nine and not feeling guilty. I miss liking american cartoons. I miss that stupid couch. I miss talking on the phone with people and enjoying it. I miss wondering what the "real world" was like and not knowing.

I miss discovery.
I miss being open.

Something tells me that this is what I'm supposed to be doing right now: discovering things, talking, learning. But everything is so... normal... so... mundane... so grey.
Give me back the black and the white.

Damn catalysts. It's time for drama. If I were more up to it, I might rip my world to shreds just to feel something. But I've changed. I'm tempered. I'm docile.Or maybe I'm just considerate. So I won't. I'm not going to fuck with you and I'm not going to fuck with me.
I'll just sit here and do my work.

I'll sit here and feel old.

I'll sit here and worry about boyfriends and bills and homework and deadlines and stupid grades and sleep and breakfast and working out.

I'll sit here and sit here and sit here

And miss my old life.