2004-11-08 - 6:00 p.m.
Three days without a hint of makeup - not even lip gloss. It feels good to feel my face again. No angry blackened eyes. I've replaced the hostility with vapidity. Blank stares instead of the glares that threaten to break through.
"I'd like to be good or great, or even any other way, but the best I can get is ok." - Teen Heroes, "Misery"
It's temporary happiness, or at least a sense of accomplishment, or worth, or something other than "pained". This feeling is good. It won't last forever and that's ok. It's the goodness of ALL's "Minute", without quite as much sappiness.
"One more thing...", says Uncle (Jackie Chan Adventures), and I say it, too. There is no reprieve. It's an odd question to deliberate on, but am I capable of loving? (Here's where the Dorothy Parker and Agatha Christie influences come into play) It's certain that I love family members. It's certain that, in some crazy mixed up way, I even love you, if you're my friend and not a stalker or stranger who stumbled upon this. The question is rather, am I capable of the whole Love Story, "love means never having to say you're sorry" thing? We'll leave it unanswered for now.
Give me a good punch in the face if I pull a Luke and start buying self-help books and tapes. "You deserve love!" That's just great.
ALL claims, "I know I can make everything just perfect" but they can't. Nobody can. We're a lot better off if we realize that nothing is ever going to be perfect, or at least we're not. I've given up on 100%. 99% is good enough.
I'm lacking in positive emotions, but I'm going through the motions.
"I'll follow through with all these claims I never cease to make. A promise to myself is one I promise to break." - Much the Same, "Wish"
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