While working at home today, I started going through my random CD stack and came across several CDs that were once Adriana's. This made me sad for a myriad of reasons, some obvious, some not. I haven't seen most of these CDs since the last time I organized all my music, labelling blank CDs, categorizing in order of most cared for, genre, condition. I did this for the better part of that night, and yes, I was on drugs, (lots of them). Which made me sad to think of because it made me miss Alexis and all of the really kick ass times we had together. I always try to tell myself that those times were rough, too, and that I spent a lot of time feeling scared, out of control and generally insecure; but, all those things are gone now. All I can remember is awesomeness. That part of my life is forever stamped with that feeling. Which is why I have to constantly try to remember the suck, too, or I feel overwhelmed. Everyone got so angry with me for moving back up to College Station, but it was, really, so much better than San Antonio.
Which isn't to say I don't feel bad for the way I left. I just kind of disappeared, which was rude.
I guess I kind of felt like no one would miss me anyway. Adriana was so wrapped up in Conrad that it was all she could talk about, and I had grown bored in San Antonio so fast. I hated my apartment, I hated working 40 hours a week, I was bored with the same kinds of parties, I felt like no one talked about anything worthwhile, ever. I felt so aimless and depressed and apathetic.
Sad thing number two is not Alexis, but the drugs. Of course I miss you, drugs. You never stop missing the drugs, you just grow apart from them for the sake of yourself and everyone around you. But they are unpredictable and deviant, and it takes a long time for that to get old.
+The one thing I loved about addiction was that it took everything else away, all of the static, the white noise. One thing mattered. My mind is so constantly cluttered and I'm always worrying or planning or stressing or analyzing and it would all unravel and leave me with one objective: more, again. (paraphrasing wurtzel here)
But anyway, the CD. The third reason for feeling bad. The CD has all of the songs I used to listen to that fall directly before moving back to CS and the winter and spring following. I just never thought Modest Mouse would be one of those bands that made me so sad with nostalgia that I had to stop listening to them. I was mistaken. It makes me think of that entire era and all of the confusion, excitement and cold weather immediately bubbles to the surface. San Antonio had been so great right at first, with parties and drinking and Halloween and fall breezes. I remember the weather really well. And I also remember all the clothes Adriana and I stole from Old Navy, some which probably still have tags on them. Ben, the cornfield maze, the Bombay Company, feeling like a third wheel when I hung out with Colin and Tyler, Monkey Ball, peeing off my balcony, feeling pretty cute pretty much all the time, actually liking Conrad most of the time.
+All that immediately followed: Bryan and his fire spinning, and really liking him even after I discovered his never mentioned SO, but only until he talked my ear off one too many times during a binge. Annoying. Getting fucked up at Chris' house and all crowding around the shitty floor heating. Nights that streched into days that stretched back into nights.
Sometimes I just wish I could forget a lot of great things so I didn't have to miss them. I guess that's the point of this post. I know you can never go back, but I always want to, and sometimes it feels so crippling. It's crippling and it's frustrating, because I am absolutely aware that in two years or six months or whatever I'll look back on now as more than it is and better than it was.
IT'S JUST LIKE I CAN'T LIKE IT NOW BECAUSE I AM SO OBSESSED WITH WHAT IT WAS. And I'm pissed because I really like Modest Mouse, and I really don't want to have to stop listening to them. And I have to stop typing this, because it's not making it better.
Which isn't to say I don't feel bad for the way I left. I just kind of disappeared, which was rude.
I guess I kind of felt like no one would miss me anyway. Adriana was so wrapped up in Conrad that it was all she could talk about, and I had grown bored in San Antonio so fast. I hated my apartment, I hated working 40 hours a week, I was bored with the same kinds of parties, I felt like no one talked about anything worthwhile, ever. I felt so aimless and depressed and apathetic.
Sad thing number two is not Alexis, but the drugs. Of course I miss you, drugs. You never stop missing the drugs, you just grow apart from them for the sake of yourself and everyone around you. But they are unpredictable and deviant, and it takes a long time for that to get old.
+The one thing I loved about addiction was that it took everything else away, all of the static, the white noise. One thing mattered. My mind is so constantly cluttered and I'm always worrying or planning or stressing or analyzing and it would all unravel and leave me with one objective: more, again. (paraphrasing wurtzel here)
But anyway, the CD. The third reason for feeling bad. The CD has all of the songs I used to listen to that fall directly before moving back to CS and the winter and spring following. I just never thought Modest Mouse would be one of those bands that made me so sad with nostalgia that I had to stop listening to them. I was mistaken. It makes me think of that entire era and all of the confusion, excitement and cold weather immediately bubbles to the surface. San Antonio had been so great right at first, with parties and drinking and Halloween and fall breezes. I remember the weather really well. And I also remember all the clothes Adriana and I stole from Old Navy, some which probably still have tags on them. Ben, the cornfield maze, the Bombay Company, feeling like a third wheel when I hung out with Colin and Tyler, Monkey Ball, peeing off my balcony, feeling pretty cute pretty much all the time, actually liking Conrad most of the time.
+All that immediately followed: Bryan and his fire spinning, and really liking him even after I discovered his never mentioned SO, but only until he talked my ear off one too many times during a binge. Annoying. Getting fucked up at Chris' house and all crowding around the shitty floor heating. Nights that streched into days that stretched back into nights.
Sometimes I just wish I could forget a lot of great things so I didn't have to miss them. I guess that's the point of this post. I know you can never go back, but I always want to, and sometimes it feels so crippling. It's crippling and it's frustrating, because I am absolutely aware that in two years or six months or whatever I'll look back on now as more than it is and better than it was.
IT'S JUST LIKE I CAN'T LIKE IT NOW BECAUSE I AM SO OBSESSED WITH WHAT IT WAS. And I'm pissed because I really like Modest Mouse, and I really don't want to have to stop listening to them. And I have to stop typing this, because it's not making it better.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
simon:
Happy Birthday!!! 
arse:
your journal entry reminds me of on the road. i think the drugs exagerate the rose tinted spectacles effect on the past.