i thought of people who tried to be nice to me who i ignored or rejected, even in the tiniest ways. not writing thank you notes to my grandparents. being rude to my parents in emails. when gabe wanted to go to a bar with me that night and i convinced him i didn't want to, i was too tired. he was in such a good mood and laughed and hugged me while we walked, we went to the plaid and got beer instead, that i didn't drink. the times when i would have loved him to invite me somewhere and he never called. was that the first night-- ? why?

his vacant cheek, distracted gaze. i thought i was ok. i am. but when he left i felt like all the other times he left. when he broke up with me, 3 times. when he left for spain. when i left santander, and madrid. when i left for portland every time. when i left him in the train yard in NE. so desperately acheing with white blind longing. why. no consolation, just unceasing wind, neither warm nor cold. oh, please let me fall.

yesterday donna and i and dave did acid. this past week has been the biggest drug binge of any of our lives (and probably everyone else in our house too, and gabe and cory). it just didn't matter anymore. when we came up on it we started cleaning the apartment, but didn't get very far. my room was spotless though. we were going to go to the park, i went and sat on the porch with jared and waited, but dave started feeling sick. he wanted donna to stay with him, so i stayed too. i came back up and he was pacing around the bathroom holding an icecube, shirt buttoned crooked, flushed and skinny face. vivaldi's the four seasons was playing in the background. violins.

the apartment was trashed (except for my room). i sat at my desk and looked at the roses and became more and more depressed. donna lay on my bed. vivaldi was in the background. dave had it on repeat. staccato vioins. he wanted donna in the apartment, but not near him. we talked. she said something about her with gabe and i froze and started sinking. inward. i stared at the vase, the water illuminated from below and behind by a white light, the stem of the rose enlarged behind the glass. my vision blurred, i tried to disappear into the lights and flowers. should i not have said that? not. not. you should not have done that. my worst nightmare. broken hearts never heal. do i need a reason. violins racing, circling melody. gabe said when he was here that i am still a lot. i stand or sit very still, silently. i did that then. if i sit still enough i feel like i'm spinning, or floating. i forget what size i am.

i lay on the bed under the covers. if i put my face under i feel like crying, so i didn't. donna said, "now you know how i felt all this time, depression." i don't need to say anything anymore. i can be silent for hours. no need to talk. no need to think. staring at one blurry spot for so long it turns abstract. "i was ok before-- ". the music started again.

we went in donna's room with dave. he was lying on the bed. he realized that whenever he touched his head he heard crackling noises and got dizzy. he was so sick he almost had us call an ambulance. he lay very still. the music was louder now. violins. it started to seem surreal. it had been on for 4 hours, a 40 minute piece of music. repeating. we all felt like shit. everything started to seem really, really funny. dave said that being a death-fearing atheist is the worst fate ever. the phone rang, but the person hung up. we joked that it was our murderer, and that we would welcome him when he came. "hey, we were just hoping someone would come and kill us." but it was andy, he called back. then he came up and climbed in the window, drunk, and talked to us for a while. he didn't make any sense. i didn't look at him. i sat against the desk.

after he left the mood continued downhill, at least for me. the music started again, and again, and seemed to be getting faster, and reeling, like a dream. i thought we should leave it on forever. what does it matter, after the 15th time of hearing something? but donna turned it off.

i read soma magazine and tried to distract myself. reading on acid is interesting. there is value in reading something extremely closely, slowy, concentrating on every word. each sentence the absolute truth. i looked at the pictures. andy climbed up again when i was looking at the internet, and just looked at me through the window. he didn't want to come in.

after a while i went to sleep. don't think. in the morning, i felt better, and went to work at reed. maybe my moods will just fluxuate. i will feel better now.