tired, reasonlessly. still the AM, which is something I've not enjoyed for a few days. woke this morning full of potential. the day's important. important to record that realization, even if it comes to nothing. but what's nothing? I conjured driving to another city, but that's not necessarily earthquaking. finishing a story, seeing a carter or a ben, finding the phd programs. the world's wide.

also. I don't think "boys or stupid" (fill in "boys" with x term - gay men, women, lesbians, men, whatever) does justice to anyone. no group is inherently stupid (this led to a rift with mum this summer when she was unilaterally bashing republicans). individuals inform trends, which in turn transform into the charts our current mathematical epistemology has filled our heads with. everything is a trend. plato writing socrates didn't believe this, but I argued that by today, he's not right anymore. maybe it shouldn't be, but it is. is it any wonder we spend millions trying to understand the weather?

approaching the middle of october, and I can see how my own 'ships have shifted or sailed. as recorded before, my friends are win incarnate. I miss lauren, though, most of all. strange, because I miss both melyssa and jenna, but I feel the loss of lauren most deeply. it manifests itself through not wanting to speak to her and acknowledge the loss (which I'm trying to overcome). but with kyle, lauren and melyssa form a triumvir that I want to want to succeed, if for no other reason than my own selfish desire to see it done.

I remember why living with alex is bad, and I want to record it here for my future eyes: it's abuse, plain and simple. not physical, but. example: yesterday, I go downstairs to have lunch and find my unopened box of crackers open and two of its sleeves missing. of course it's alex, so I head up to his room and knock on his door. no answer, but I know he's in there ("sick or depressed," according to chris. "bullshit," according to me.) so I knock again. a sleepy what? from inside, so I say wake up. he does, I walk in. doesn't even try to hide it: there on the floor are my empty cracker sleeves, with only the crumbs left. he's eaten something like six dozen crackers since I had breakfast three hours before. there's not much to be said but I still ask did you eat my crackers? or something like it. he says he did, throws (literally throws) two wadded-up dollars at me, and finishes the exchange with with no one ever takes me to the fucking grocery store which I follow with what am I, your parent? but this is the danger, see, because not only does he not claim any negative responsibility for this - in his mind, he's done nothing wrong - but he blames me for it. because I haven't taken him to the grocery store, he's perfectly reasonable in his eating of my food, because I'm the one who's erred. my dad used to be very, very good at this kind of psychic manipulation, and while I know alex does this all the time, he does it in various ways - getting rides out of me, having me proofread his documents - that leave me forgetting the last and falling for it again. no more. this abuse ends.

also. might skewer him. emergency thorocotomy gone wrong. be warned and stay tuned.