i sat at the hurricane for a few hours after i worked out last night reading one of suzy's favorite books (the perks of being a wallflower) and writing bullshit and drinking shitty coffee and just feeling Altogether Too Sad.
earlier, i'd talked with beloved ex-roommate bitch sarah for an hour. the conversation ended on an esteem-reducing note: "you surround yourself with losers. sorry your friend killed herself."
i thought about that as i read chbosky's take on adolescence and innocence and came to the conclusion that she's right, but there's a reason for it: i'm used to having people in my life tell me what to do, people who care about me and "know" what's best for me. that's nice and all, but it doesn't mean shit if i don't really believe that what i'm doing is what's best for me. if my current friends are selfish bastards who don't give a fuck about me, then i'm forced to give a fuck about myself. i have to love myself and i have to make my own decisions and i have to be enough for me. i certainly love and appreciate my friends who give me their sometimes-unsolicited-but-mostly-needed advice, but what i don't need right now is a slap in the face. i know exactly what i'm doing. i'm sorry if my decisions don't fit in with your life philosophies, but god dammit, it's MY fucking life and i can do what i fucking want. it's gotten to the point that very rarely do i ask my friends for help. there's a reason for this: i don't want anyone to feel like i owe them something, i don't want them to be able to say, "we told you so, we told you so." i don't want to be anyone's burden. i know when i'm making a mistake, but i do it anyway because chances are, i'll learn more from fucking up than from doing everything right.
so there.
i dressed up cute today for suzy: black flats, black thigh highs, black-and-white-diagonal-striped-strapless dress, and a white sweater for that professional touch. yes, that's right: i am sex.