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10-18-01 - 8:46 p.m.

Well, it was my turn, I suppose. One of the few times I ever decided to leave the safety of MS Word and its Auto Recovery feature for diary-writing, my computer froze.

So here we go again.

Kellie enlisted me to make her Homecoming dress several weeks ago. After putting it off and wondering why she, the wannabe fashion designer, was coming to me, the craptacular seamstress with zero patience, I finished it tonight. It's this slinky tiger-print dress. I can't really explain it. The theme is "Jungle Paradise" and she and my old gang of friends (Chris, Haley, Rachel, Julia, etc.) are all going in different animal print dresses, and their dates are wearing matching ties and hats. I despise any and all animal print. I think it looks stupid. Or at least, about as stupid as a leopard with a wig on. Ricky and I are going as "jungle castaways" in tattered formal wear. I'll be spending a long time fixing tiny twigs in my hair and splicing up a dress. Then we get to roll in the dirt and add leaves. It's a really ridiculous idea, but at least it isn't animal print. Another ridiculous idea is what Kel wore for the spirit day at her school today. It was "Leaf Day," and most kids had taped a leaf to their shirts. I gave her a picture of Leif to tape to her. Surprisingly, she did it, but that's probably because he's cute and she wanted to show off. I wonder who she said he was?

Well, there are now three men in my life who want more from me than I'm willing to give. The first one tells me he's in love with me, and for whatever reason, I think I believe him. He's gone out of his way to prove it countless times, and he's one of the few people I trust. (Earning my trust takes years and most people give up about a tenth of the way through.) The second one has been through a lot of shit thanks to his dad and has the knife scar to prove it. He loves talking to me, says my attention span is great (liar), says I always seem interested and understanding and nonjudgemental. We've had a pretty pointless relationship till now, but tonight he said he thinks he might be falling for me. He described it as a "schoolgirl's crush" right now, but that he can see himself getting really attached to me as we continue to know each other. I said to him, "That's...good." I had no idea what else I could say. The third guy's just an idiot. He wants sex only, but he has a wife and a kid and is 11 years older than I am. I'm not interested in him, but how do you tell someone that when you've acted to the contrary? I've slept with him, I hate myself for it, but I feel like there's no real way out, short of hurting him. I don't know why I care. Maybe it's because I've been hurt so much and I feel some pathetic need to keep others from harm, no matter how much I dislike them. Either way I hate it. But it's just how I feel. I'm spineless and cowardly.

This got me to thinking, which can't possibly be good for my well-being.

What's the point of living?

I don't mean that from a suicidal standpoint. I'm just asking, what is the point? I'm an atheist, but even if I did believe that our whole purpose on earth was to praise God, how selfish would he be? If we're here to work towards a reward, why can't we just save time and skip to the good part, the afterlife?

If I look at this from a Huxley-Brave New World perspective, then life is merely to better the community. However, in this society, if that's true, then why do people bother to ask me what I want? Does "wanting" really even exist? Or is it some need stemmed from some emptiness we don't even realize we have?

The way I see it, we're all biological flukes. We're not meant to be here. Or if we are, we're not supposed to be able to feel things. At the top of the food chain, humans have no predators except in themselves. I believe that emotion is our greatest predator. Would we have wars if people didn't feel the need for bloody gratification through revenge, or the "need" for power and the lust for wealth? What is the point?!

I hate pretending I don't dwell on topics like this for great lengths of time. I do. Even when I'm not idle I think about them. I'll be scribbling down "no onions, mayonnaise on the side" at work and suddenly will find myself thinking things that I don't understand, that perhaps nobody understands. I just hate not knowing things. It makes me crazy. So me, I live for the day when someone can give me a logical explanation as to why I'm here, other than "Mommy and Daddy made a big mistake."

And don't you dare tell me I'm "not a mistake." I am. I'm not supposed to be here. They told me so, many times.

 

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