"god, since when is my life a soap opera?!"
"can i be raoul?"
--kk and i, in the middle of an otherwise unfunny conversation...

so i go to tempe for a week and the world goes to hell just in time for me to come home. life makes me go "what the fuck?!" sometimes. people are crazy fucks and everyone's rallying or being apathetic or crying or donating blood or something. all i did was let my jaw drop, swear a lot, and get really sick of news coverage. it's an overload; i can't process what it all means without the cynicism that is mine and that cynicism only grows stronger, like an ugly, angry beast, when it sees the news. ugly and angry with everything and everyone. with GOD BLESS AMERICA and fucking racists who attack people with brown skin and mosques. the event didn't make me feel patriotism; it didn't make me cry; it hasn't even made me deathly scared in a conscious way. it's made me more annoyed with the stupid president, probably irrationally so; it's made me amused with the british who sang the american national anthem at the changing of the guard "out of respect." it's made me unsure of where anything stands and what will happen, what i can do, who i can be, who i am, and who everyone else is. insanity. i wish i could kill the cynicism, but maybe it's warranted. i don't know. i can only tune it all out... my mom talks about what she hears and sees and reads and i don't even hear her. how terrible is that?

so i went to tempe and had one of the nicest weeks i've had in a long time, and it ended in a painfully long bus ride home covered with TERRORIST headlines of every local newspaper we passed.

i'm disgusted at the injustice i can see brewing beneath the surface of makeshift solidarity...

but i had a good week. a sad week, in the end, but so nice. i was stupid to think i wouldn't get so attached. it feels weird to have these emotions without the committment, but it's a weird situation. it's grasping when you have to left go, and it's hard. i miss michael.

and i'm exhausted.