there's no place like Oz
I bought a 1998 Toyota Camry yesterday for $6,200. It has a moonroof and a 6 CD changer. That's not enough but it'll do until I get my iPod, which will plug in nicely to the cassette. The car is gray, four-door, LE, 83K miles.
My head is pounding right now. Mike is so far away from me and now I'm mobile. I can move when I need to. I'm no longer hobbled in this position.
I bought car insurance. Renter's insurance. Total monthly bill comes to $69.69. an orgy of confidence
My head is throbbing. It ached so badly when I woke up today. It continues to pulse with pain. I'm so far out on my motherfucking limb that I don't know if I'm going to leap, fly, retreat, or fall, but I'm accelerating towards the edge.
SPEND MONEY TO MAKE MONEY
This is my life and I have to give up conrol to take control. I have to risk to feel secure. I have to spend through my nose to hope for a job.
Good thing it's winter time right now so there aren't a lot of colors in the world around me. Not a lot of life to distract me from my business. MY business. The business of ME. Now that I'm started I feel like I'm the first spot of Spring-time green. I feel like in the midst of all the gray and white of winter there exists me - in lovely spring-time color newness.
But don't let me fool you into thinking this is a joyful moment entirely. So much is revealed when work starts to be done. You clean one thing and it emphasizes the tarnish on the thing adjacent. There's so much I could do. I'm so lazy, though, I'm sure I'll pass out soon. I have to find work, though, and money, and make a move next fall.
I need a deep conversation. I need to hear something new. I've been feeling like the smartest person I know lately. Like the one with the answers. Sometimes even talking to Muriah makes me feel that way - with the events of her life as they are. My friends are younger, less educated, less attached, more doubtful.do I sound like a bitch? I feel like I've been a source for a lot of people and have been giving. But I need some honesty, and some advice, and some wisdom imparted to me on a confidential level from someone who knows better.
I need someone to open up their soul and speak freely to me from what they've seen.
I'm building something out of nothing with this Michaela Project - and I'm kind of liking it - but I could use a little empathy. Have you been here before?
My head still hurts.
Here's how I see myself: I'm like a fast-motion technicolor Dorothy moving through her black-and-white Kansas, offering, handing out, encouragement to a Scarecrow, a Lion, and a Tin Man, racing down her fucking brick road, trying to convince everyone that there's no place like Oz. I just wish someone normal would walk up to me and tell me their secrets about this journey.
Oh, the mania of being a ME.
