A Very Mad World
Previous - this entry written on October 17, 2006 at 4:31 am - Next


"Mad World" is playing right now. We have a copy of Donnie Darko here, dvd I believe. I...

Every time I watch that movie I cry. Every time. Just thinking about it is enough to get that tightness in the back of my throat, and this song... yeah. Same thing.

It's up there with Butterfly Effect and Foxfire for "movies that make Jax go a little bit wonkie and emo for a good week".

I was out running errands earlier; getting something to eat, getting soda for Caleb, nothing serious but I just felt like I had to get out of the house for a few minutes. Ended up being out for nearly two hours, and only came home because I realized it was come home or risk being near-catatonic in the middle of a cemetary for gods only know how long, which would be inconvenient. I almost wish I'd stayed out, though. Curled up beside one of the tombstones, head on the marble, watching the rain, waiting for the sun to rise... I'd feel safer there, I think. I mean, dead people, you can't really make anything worse for them. Live people? That, I can fuck up.

Called Puppy when I was about halfway home, just for a moment, needed - yes, needed - to hear someone's voice, and his is the only number I know off the top of my head these days. Asked him to poke me about this tomorrow, to get me talking, get this out of my head. Now, I know I won't be able to avoid it, so it's just spilling out.

I gave my first blowjob at age 12.

What the fuck does that make me? I don't know. I'm still me, the fact that it's only been in the last week that I've... remembered... faced up to what's in my head... meh. Nothing changes, everything changes. I want to scream.

In Donnie Darko at the end of the movie, you see everyone that he affected, everyone he touched, sitting there... aware, somehow, that things had changed, that he was gone, that they had both lived and not-lived several very important days. Butterfly effect, again. I know there are a lot of people whose lives would be signifigantly different if I hadn't been around, been involved in them, been who I am. I can't say their lives would be better or worse, just... different.

This isn't going anywhere, it's just me rambling at 4 in the morning again, tired but not at all sleepy, mindless meaningless hopeless quiet half-dream...

...yeah. It's that kind of night.

I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take

It really is a very mad world.

I'll be coming down late-ish evening, have to wait until Caleb is off of work, but we'll be there on the 18th, or I'll be there on the 18th, depending on whether or not he wants to come along for the ride. It'll be good to have you here. Honestly, I could use the reminder that my childhood had some GOOD things in it; I consider you one of them.

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