-and i can't stop thinking about the ex i saw tonight. how given 1-2 more glasses of wine and 2-3 more nostalgic stories and i would have been tempted to do the one thing you're never supposed to.
+ i played the king cat main stage on friday. raj did another epicjob on my makeup. my ass looked stellar in my new sequin pants. J even came to see me for the first time ever and i loved the feeling of singing to him. pirate was there. that guy was there. the bandmance was there, including a certain diva who i subconciously keep turning down even tho i dream about him constantly. everyone who's ever made me feel loved was in the crowd.
-and i can't stop obsessing over the guy who wasn't there. the guy who i fear may never be there again. the guy who shouldn't be there. but who keeps showing up in my dreams to make peace. and i wake up so happy only to be crushed when i realize none of it was real. the more i dream about him, the more he invades my waking thoughts and i don't know how to really fix that.
+I spent another wonderful weekend balancing alone time and connected fun time with someone i'm starting to really enjoy. someone who is scarily similar to me, it feels unreal. i keep making up mental abyss stories in my head to make him less like me only to realize we're still on the same page. it's really really weird. it's like too easy. i feel like there should be something in fighting for this kind of connection. like if it's too easy it must be wrong.
-and so i'm obsessing over that. and/or worried about how horribly this/everything ends.
+300 people came to see my friday night. 100ish people talked to me after the show. 80ish people complimented me. 30ish people hugged me at the afterparty. 15ish invited me to a punk show the next night. 11 people tagged pictures of me on facebook.
-0 people want to watch a movie and share a bottle of wine with me right now.
and that's what it's like. going through the motions. everything on paper. it feels like it should make up a life. a really good and happy life. and knowing that only makes the depression worse. guilt on top of that emptiness.
so i'm gonna go to sleep alone in a really nice apartment. and wake up and go to my well paying, culture-fitting, intellectually stimulating job. and i'm gonna go to my voice lesson, given to me for free by a fan of the band who happens to be a music teacher. and then cw is gonna come by and fix my preamp so i can listen to records. and then i'll make him leave and i'll be on the floor listening to zeppelin alone again.
all of this. and some stupid facebook picutre of a guy kissing his gf and proudly posting how adorable he thinks she is. and it breaks me. and none of it seems to mean anything.
how fucking stupid is that?
it's only human i suppose.
or maybe i'm just pissy because my record player is still broken...
if it were working, i'd definately play Queen first.
"caaaan...... anybody..... find me.... somebody too.....
love..."
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