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BY Natasha

01/01 Direct Link
It's the new year it's time to start anew give yourself a new life a new day a new time to be oneself

I can't breathe with all this newness

It's shiny so shiny I'm overwhelmed

Oh God, what do I do? Do I venture out into the world become a good capitalist be a good person help many many people? Do I sit on my ass sleep all day eat giant bowls of cereal until 2006 is upon us?

I don't know...I don't know...

Maybe if someone could help me. But I'm not religious and I have no one.

01/02 Direct Link
The tsunami...I can't even imagine the horror and devastation that is going on over there. It's...unspeakable. So much death, and so inconceivable... that something so terrifying can still happen. There's no one to blame. It just...happened, and we're supposed to accept that there's no fingers to point.

It's an impossible concept for all of us.

And the disease...and the numbers keep growing...I want to help but there isn't any way for me to do anything. And we're not giving enough money or aid and we need to, oh God, we need to...

If it could happen there...could it happen here?

01/03 Direct Link
First day back in school. I can't concentrate. When teachers tell me I need to make up work, I just smile. I can't seem to connect myself to the student who's falling behind in all her classes because she's given up.

I've given up. It's over. I have about 15 days left of the second quarter, then my midyear grades hit all the colleges and I can just. Stop.

I need to drop Physics before I explode. It's killing me. She's killing me. The only class I really still like anymore is English, and I can just coast through that.

01/04 Direct Link
These are my invisible days
The days when I am more than happy
To fade into the woodwork,
Shake my head at passersby
And not have them shake back at me

These are the natural creatures
That use their consents like they use
Their facial expressions,
Other people with that indifference
And smile because it's all so funny

It is funny
It is nice to have the gray recognize me
That is, on my showing days

.....Being sick can do weird things to your head...it either makes you deluded and strange, or it makes you see everything so much clearer......

01/05 Direct Link
Which is worse, an emptiness of spirit or an emptiness of mind? Are they the same? If not, how are they different? These things to ponder...ultimately without meaning, ultimately pretentious.

I gaze at the TV, longingly, numbingly. I watch the people on the screen act out their meaningless lives, whether it be so-called reality TV or the scripted shows. I emote for them, I feel for them, and I know how stupid it is, that I love them more than I love my family, my friends, my partner.

Here I go, to go look at the box again...be back soon?

01/06 Direct Link
"You're acting like a little girl, you're being silly,"he says.

"I'm sick, and you're not listening to anything I'm saying,"I retort.

"What I'm hearing is simple minded blame, blame of other people and a lack of self-motivation.-

"You couldn't pick more of a clichÃÆ'© than ‘self-motivation'? If that was supposed to be a pep talk, it was a terrible one.-

"You should concentrate—at least pretend like you still care.-

"I don't care. I might as well just throw myself out of school and become a farmer.-

"You really are being dreadfully silly,"my former English teacher remarks.

01/07 Direct Link
He's on a pier and in front of him is a mass of ever-undulating waters. It makes him feel calm. Safe.

But then he looks to his right. He looks to his left. He sees his compatriots strolling, talking, laughing. He can't understand it, how they can interact so easily with each other. He feels like he's choking. He feels his hands slipping away from the railing, stumbling away from the water.

He puts his hands to his face and he screams, a long, winding howl of utter alienation.

I step back from Edward Munch's Scream, and brush away tears.

01/08 Direct Link
We two
Find tranquility in inertia
Find peace through inaction
Find love where there is none

We two
Run circles round the house
Run miles down the road
Run sense into the ground

We two
Feel passion in the darkness
Feel guilty in the daytime
Feel gone but not yet there

I guess you could make the valid argument that staying in an eroding relationship is foolhardy. I guess you could say that one should extricate themselves as soon as possible, for everyone's sake. But when nothing seems to be going wrong...when everything looks fine...it's impossible to admit to failure.

01/09 Direct Link
When they collided again, she was pleasantly surprised to find that six years hadn't dulled his need for her. And if she'd had any friends, they would have protested her being with him again, but she didn't and so they weren't. And here he was and here she was, and it looked like they were both falling down that trap again.

She'd never kept any present he'd given her—hid them in his apartment or gave them to homeless people on the street. She didn't deserve Josh, never had, never would. Six years and she'd counted every single day apart.

01/10 Direct Link
Fui bailar no meu batel
AlÃÆ'©m do mar cruel
o mar bramindo
Diz que eu fui roubar
A luz sem par
Do teu olhar tÃÆ'£o lindo
Vem saber se o mar terÃÆ'¡ razÃÆ'£o
Vem cÃÆ'¡ ver bailar meu coraÃÆ'§ÃÆ'£o
Se eu bailar no meu batel
NÃÆ'£o vou ao mar cruel
E nem lhe digo aonde eu fui cantar
Sorrir, bailar
Viver, sonhar
Contigo
Vem saber se o mar terÃÆ'¡ razÃÆ'£o
Vem cÃÆ'¡ ver bailar meu coraÃÆ'§ÃÆ'£o
Se eu bailar no meu batel
NÃÆ'£o vou ao mar cruel
E nem lhe digo aonde eu fui cantar
Sorrir, bailar
Viver, sonhar
Contigo
01/11 Direct Link
...I am upheld and sustained by the good wishes and prayers of God's people. I am conscious of no desire for my country's welfare, that is not in consonance with His will, and of no plan upon which we may not ask His blessing. It seems to me that if there be one subject upon which all good men may unitedly agree, it is imploring the gracious favor of the God of Nations upon the struggles our people are making for the preservation of their precious birthright of civil and religious liberty.

Your friend Abe Lincoln.

God for President? Urgh...

01/12 Direct Link
I have a crush on the law advisor for my Law Club. He's 50, and the father of a junior at my high school. So. Weird. He's all distinguished and wise... And, of course, hostile and arrogant. Like I could fall for any other type. Not to mention he's Jewish and a lawyer. All things that count very actively in his favor.

I shall tell no one of this development, or I'll never hear the end of it.

Hey, out of everyone he hates, he told me he dislikes me least. That's something, right? Ha ha, I'm blushing now...

01/13 Direct Link
My mind...I'm running out of things to say, to write. What's happened? Have I just lost the desire to write? Is it the anonymity of these entries and the probability that no one I know will read them? And that I have no way of knowing if anyone reads them? God knows I'm an attention whore. If I'm not the center of attention, I get pissy. I check back on this site all the time to see if my entries are the "entry of the day"front-page. Yeah, I should probably get over that....hey, maybe this one will go up.
01/14 Direct Link
I wonder what age I belong to. On one hand, I love the technology and progress of this decade. On the other hand, I long for the intellectualism and pride in knowledge that the Enlightenment and the rococo parlors provided.

But I'm no romantic, at least not before nightfall. I know that for every philosopher of the Enlightenment, there was a clergy member straining to hang him. I know that for every sophisticate poring over a Rembrandt, there was a peasant starving somewhere without any knowledge of greater art. Another age might sound nice, but we'd miss all our luxuries.

01/15 Direct Link
I hate writing these entries with people around. I feel like even if they're nowhere near me, they're looking over my shoulder. Unfortunately, in a house with five other members in it, there's no escape except late at night. So I stay up really late, watching TV and hoping my boyfriend doesn't want me to go out with him tonight, and then I scamper to the computer and write my thoughts down. Of course, they turn out to be quite dull after hours of blunt force trauma, courtesy American Idol, etc. But I do try very, very hard, don't I?
01/16 Direct Link
She's sitting in the library, reading Ray Bradbury and eating Cheerios. She's warm, and content. She's even smiling to herself as she takes in the prescient morality that Bradbury has written for her.

The bell rings. She closes her eyes in deep pain as every student at the surrounding tables darts for their books and bags and rushes for the exit. Rushes to their next class. Within thirty seconds, the entire library is empty. In the moment before the next group of people with a free period invades the library, she finishes the sentence she's on and gets up, reluctantly.

01/17 Direct Link
Tom,

I love you. I truly do. But I feel like I'm only in love with you out of a sense of duty, does that make sense? What do I do with that? I can't find either of us in all this mess.

I've been having an affair with a married man since before we began going out. And when you came along, I felt like you saved me, with your honesty and light. But I guess it's not light that I want anymore. It seems like I'm destined for dark. I'm sorry.

Ultimately, I did not send that email.

01/18 Direct Link
He

She lay next to him
She was so asleep
So he took her fingers, each one
And he curled them into his palms

And what he did then was
he watched her solemnly
he breathed in her exhalations
he brought her hands to his heart.

She

When she woke up
He was in the shower
She groaned and rolled over
And spread her body across his imprint

And she felt his passing warmth
she pulled her blanket closer to her
she blinked through the morning light
she could still smell him covering her

She smiled, and closed her eyes.

01/19 Direct Link
The city bustles—it hops with fervor and activity. It's beautiful and ugly all at the same time. I want to live there, nestled within its secretive buildings and sly windows. I want to walk around South Street Seaport with coffee and people-watch. I want to go to Coney Island and pretend it's not a mob front. I want to avoid Staten Island and Broadway like the plague. I want so very badly to say to people, lazily, "I live in Brooklyn Heights and when I like, I pop over to Manhattan for a bit.-

I want that for myself.

01/20 Direct Link
Beauty is on the inside—bullshit. Lately, I can't get off the impression that I'm ugly. Really ugly. Everything about me sickens me when I look in the mirror. It feels like everyone in the world is prettier than me. It's hard for me to take, being so ugly, and all I can think of is all the crushes I've had that never turned out to anything. I blame my ugliness. I shared this with my boyfriend, who's one of the most gorgeous people I know.

He just laughed. "Shut up,"he said, and pushed me. I love him sometimes.

01/21 Direct Link
I just came home from seeing Hotel Rwanda. I'm stunned, heartbroken. The Rwandan genocide is the story of my generation, and yet I knew nothing about it before seeing this movie—I, who pride myself on knowing so much. And no one my age knows about it. But it's so important for us to, because it is, at its heart, an incredibly human tragedy. And it was one that was much ignored by the rest of the world, who turned on them because, as the general in the movie says, "The world thinks you're dirt. You're African."

It was absolutely...heartrending.

01/22 Direct Link
My best friend's boyfriend is cheating on her. I am incredibly angry, hurt, upset for her...more so because she seems to be so nonchalant about it all. She's upset, sure, but she says she's forgiven him and the girl (a close friend of hers) already. I can't even breathe properly when I hear about what happened, let alone ever think of speaking to either of them again.

How does she do it? I don't know. But I do know that I'm going to protect her from this asshole. And I feel very hypocritical, but it's the right thing to do.

01/23 Direct Link
My Princeton interviewer comes in thirty minutes. Wish me luck!

She's coming over my house. I was up until 3 am last night cleaning, straightening, fixing, putting everything where it should go. That was not a good task to give to an obsessive like me...I think I spent around 10 minutes fixing one shelf of books.

And then there was my room to think about. Put my intelligent books on my desk, so it looks like I'm smart. Put some girly things out, so I look normal. Put my passport out, so I look worldly. Shit, this is so false.

01/24 Direct Link
The branches
They stretch toward the sky
They're crying out for help
Reaching, pleading
They want solace, but there is none

Only cold
Only snow
Only winter
To cherish and keep them
To embrace and make them sleep

The birds realize that everything dies in winter. They're smart. They leave what's dead.

Not us. We stick around, to wander the realm of the dead. We stick around, bundled in scarves and hats and gloves, floating and not seeing through our cold eyes the little deaths of all that we pass.

Someone save us from this dread, before we perish too.

01/25 Direct Link
Rei Soleil

A children's garments are strewn
On the streets of Versailles
A shirt
Shoes
Headband
Cap
Where are these nameless children?
Where are their fearsome mothers?

The palace frowns pensively upon them
For 300 years, it has failed
To stop their cameras

And their progress

Rome

Rome?
There are no words for Rome
Only streets, tall and narrow
Filled with shops, and people, and spirit

Only ruins, once mighty
Only churches, still mighty
And Michelangelo, who says it better

Than clever words ever could

I've been digging up old poems—these are from my intense vacation two summers ago.

01/26 Direct Link
New band! It's such an amazing feeling to feel like you've discovered an entire band that is freaking amazing. They're such underdogs, and I just want them to stay like that forever, and be mine.

I'm already planning to get a shirt, and merchandise, just so I can go around and flaunt my new band to the world. And when people ask what my shirt's about, I can be like, all smug, "Oh, it's this sick band, the Old 97's. I've been a fan forever—anyone who knows bluegrass and indie rock knows of these guys."

Fuck, I'm so superior.

01/27 Direct Link
I stare out at the cold sometimes. The snow blankets the ground in a sort of deathly embrace, and I laugh because I know I am never going out there. Why would anyone subject themselves to the cold of a winter's day?

And I see people jogging, and driving their cars, and trying to lead their lives, and I continue to laugh because it's just so ridiculous, people continuing with everything when all around them is dead or dying.

Is that the human condition? Is it the tendency of our kind to self destruct? Whatever. It's very funny to me.

01/28 Direct Link
Rhett sleeps. She's still awake. She's sore and the bed is still warm from their love, passing from the room like it's wafting out the door. She lets her hand trace his side and he moves, unconsciously, closer to her.

It's clearly love for him. She smiles down at the massive ring on her finger and tries not to think of the other. Tries not to think of what could have been. Forces herself to admit that she's better off with Rhett, which is true. With the other, there's only brooding and angst. With Rhett, she can finally be safe.

01/29 Direct Link
Josh's wife finally got half of a clue, at last. She doesn't want him to email me anymore—I'm guessing she doesn't even know about the calls or guilty visits. Ha. He says she doesn't know any more than just her feeling that I have a crush on him and she doesn't want him to lead me on. Ha and ha. That's pathetic. I almost feel bad.

Almost.

I asked him, barely holding back my laughter, if he was going to stop emailing me. I could hear him rolling his eyes.

"Don't get her pregnant,"I said, "or everything ends.-

01/30 Direct Link
How amusing that I found this old poem:

written 1/5/03

January is my hopeless month
It washes against me
I build all year to stop it
The breaking down of January.

It's cruel
Yes it's cloying
When all the world is wrapped in death
Yes the very shroud of dying.

You've never been more close to it
So pushed, so small, so finite
Than in that month of January
To see the world as unsighted

January is my dying month
The fear that nothing stays
I am a scab on the face of the world
Not being reborn, I remain

01/31 Direct Link
Adios, January. To me, you're the longest month of the year, the cruelest, the hardest to get through. Did I cry in January 2005? You bet I did. I cried over past relationships, missed relationships, ongoing yet dying relationships... the only relationship I didn't cry over was the ongoing yet immoral relationship. Perhaps because amusingly, that's the only one that gives me any sort of comfort now.

They say a January determines how you spend the rest of the year. I'm glad that's never true for me, because otherwise the world would be deluged in my angst and stupid sorrow.