Well, I just got back from the Embassy coffee house dealie thing. It was ok for the first little while, but then I started to feel like an outsider… everyone was talking to everyone else.. yet there I was. Quiet, and just listening to the music, occasionally glancing at sports on the big screen. I wish I could say it was good, but I just stopped having fun. Oh well. Things like this happen. Perhaps I’ll go read that book now. Bye.

I don’t know why I’m writing this here. I don’t know why I’m writing this at all. Maybe to mark the day. Maybe I want the world to think “Oh Justin.. that poor, misguided soul…” I really don’t know.

It finally happened. I can’t believe it.. I’m still shocked. No, my bottle containing the deepest mysteries of my life did not shatter. No, all that is still with me. But I did lose a part of me not too long ago. A part of me that I depended on for years. A part of me that I thought would stand the test of time. A part of me that really made me into the person I am today, for better or for worse. A part of me went away today… lost… when I finally broke down.

Not too long ago, I considered what I should do. I decided to do three things: I wandered the college. I wandered until I happened upon that old crappy piano downstairs. And I played. I played Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. A beautiful piece, it is. But it sounded off and jangly on that forsaken instrument. So I retreated to the chapel, where I decided to pray. Oh how I implored Him. I asked Him for answers, for reasons. I petitioned Him for help, for support, for hope. But no answers came to me. No reasons. Nor did help, support, or hope appear. Instead, I was met with silence… an emptiness comparable to the deepest recesses of my heart. I waited, and waited. Alas, nothing. Then, with a sudden flood of emotion, I lied there at the front of the chapel.. fists clenched, heart pounding, and sobbing. It was uncontrollable. With my voice cracking, I murmured questions to Him: why this, why that. The tears burned as they ran down the side of my face. Do I feel any better after the whole ordeal? Do I feel as though a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders? Absolutely not. I’d be a fool to think weeping will bring about release. Instead, I feel ashamed; my stability, which has held firm for years, broke. It’s like losing a leg that I’ve used all my life.

It took time to collect myself, to prepare myself to leave the sanctuary I made inside the chapel. I sat there for long minutes, unsure as to how many passed while I contemplated what had just happened. Again, I begged God for something… anything. But the only thing that came to me then was the realization of my stuffy nose.

Oh how a person’s feelings can change in a matter of days… I was so happy about four posts down… I guess I could have seen it coming. The week was rough, as has been the last month or so. A lot of things haven’t been quite the same as before, and all I needed was a trigger. I thought I was in the clear when I started to read those books. But it took a mere matter of hours to bring me back down… possibly lower. I don’t know where I stand now, if at all. Maybe I’ll take refuge inside a shell like a turtle does when it feels threatened. But I suspect that I will be sullen for a little while longer. It was folly for me to think that books would have some sort of insta-heal effect on me. But now, I really am lost. The —- hit the proverbial fan (I’ll have the decency to censor, at least). Where do I go from here? To whom can I turn, other than God?

Ugh, I know I’m just asking for trouble. Excuse me, but I have a headache now.

I just read some more of Life of Pi… nothing particularly interesting happened. I was really looking forward to it, too. It was something I wish I could have been doing instead of being a loser at the coffee house. But, that, too, let me down. I can only hope that the remaining 150 pages or so will be more compelling. I really need to read something good. Silly me… my life is so boring.

About the whole coffee house business, I can’t blame anyone but myself for the mess. It was me, after all, that asked if Erica was still going. It was me who decided to stray away when my evening became unexpectedly vacant. It was me who thought that I would have a good time taking in good music with friends around me. Silly me… what was I thinking?

Would I like some cheese with my whine? Yeah, I do. People say I complain incessantly. If I weren’t me, I’d be pretty annoyed by me, too. Silly me… I disgust myself sometimes.

And what’s the deal with me wanting blue hair? This sudden impulse doesn’t make much sense to me. I get weird looks from anyone I tell, with the occasional “Oh.. cool.” Is that all I’m trying to be? Cool? Silly me… I can be so irrational.

Now I wonder what to do. Should I read? Should I pray? Should I play piano? Should I sit here aimlessly? Should I go for another figure-everything-out walk? Should I sleep? Should I wander the college? Should I do homework? Should I give up? Should I continue to write nonsense into this entry? No… Silly me… leave you poor readers alone.

God.. please.. save me from myself.