Teatle How quickly we can dehumanize, compartmentalize, take the whole and break it into tiny little pieces and then process each piece like data, labled keep or quit. I've wanted to write for weeks now but writting turns out like dancing, where the means are to an end of complete and total ventelation when really all that happens is the chiseling of marks into my skin. So i am not going to edit and I am not going to try and be frank, coy, or even clever. That's all done with.

There are these things you can take before going to bed that make you disappear. First you eyes feel heavy, then your throat gets a little dry, and soon you feel like there is gauze in the front of your head. Thoughts start fighting to connect and they punch and pull at your hair folicles but nothing moves; you are sedated. Then comes the sleep that feels like nothing. It's not awake, and it's definately not alive, and when you do rouse, it's as if you mind jumpstarts into every hitting thought that the thing pinned down under it's big boxing gloves that night. Its a fight whether or not to take it, because the numbness of the night almost isn't worth the jumpstart you get in the morning.

I've been wondering about friends and their words. I find an uncanny flaw in humanity to lable those who agree with and support our every decision our "good friends" and those who disagree and even fight againsts our decisions out "bad friends". Really however, what we choose to do and how they react has nothing to do with friendship. Someone who unconditionally supports every life decision and situation is in fact a tool, a computer, programed to say what will ultimate provide THEM with positive feedback. If I agree with every decision person B makes, then person B will feel I support them and thus repay me with more friendship in love. If I disagree, person B will not feel loved. Agreeance and love are not related. It is more to love to speak from a place of true concern and actually question ones choices then to idlely and numbly say, whatever you choose. No one person in a friendship need be passive about their feelings. To support someone's life actions that they make based on feelings while ignoring your own feelings is completely contradictory and a mockery of life. Now no one can ever choose for the other, each friend can only speak. But to respect the honor of emotions, you can't drug your own to support anothers.

Mourning. I want to feel dignified and legitimate in my mourning.

One must do everything in their power to recognize the necesity of human choice and honor it. This includes your own personal human choice, and that of everyone you come in contact with. Sacraficing one is just as epocalyptic as sacraficing the other.

Eating. I am hungry.

Why is destruction so satisfying in times when you really need creation?

There once was a squirel who thought it was a bird. Each day he would scurry up the big brown poles and perch himself on the electric wire. He squeked and chirped along with the other birdies and nuzzled himself close to their soft fury breasts. At night he would make his way into their nests and curl up into a tight little mammal ball and dream about all the places he and the birds would fly. Although he never talked to the birds, he knew his adoration for them was mutual and that one day, they all dreamed of going Paris. One a Monday, the little squirel woke up particularly cold and noticed no one was in the nest. He scurried out to the line, only to once again realize he was truly alone. Down below, he heard the soft chirping of his bird friends as they flew in low circles, swirling further and further away. The squirel tried to jump but was paralyzed.  ¶ 2:26 PM