friday nights

don't hold the same meaning they used to.
back when i was too young and stupid to care about anything but where and how we would get the beer, how our friends could get here, and what music we wanted to play as we danced, touched, laughed and shook heads in dizzy unison.
sometimes i really miss the days of broken guitars, breaking up fights and matching outfits to my best friend before really getting into the gritty nightlife that was my formidable years.
go back in time and see stephanie ages 18-20 and you'll know.
but you can only be that careless for so long.
eventually you wake up tired and don't know why. you wonder why the nights get so hard and why you really cant stand the old friends anymore.
[they just buzz and stammer with old jokes long forgotten and thoughts long ignorant]
you feel worn out and silly when you ask for colored drinks at a bar.
you start to think that the person your talking to isn't really listening.
things start coming into new light. [what happened?]
yes yes, i'm only 22 but fuck if i didn't burn out in the years following high school.
am i an old lady?
ive been called a prude. to my face. and its shocking.
ouch.
but im more for a dark beer and a patio than pulsing nothing.
ugh. i need something to occupy my mind. i should buy a puzzle.


shake it off.

lets roll on then.


saw a friend tonight that up until two weeks ago i thought was lost forever.
going to a bookstore and then jims seemed alien.
whats this?
you dont want to go drink or see a movie? you want to talk? did you read my last blog? how did you know. hah. theres funny energy in the air tonight. must just be me.

kids my age right now are getting married, getting pregnant and getting degrees. i think i may have fallen off the train and landed in lamesville. wonderful. but i see a lake ahead and maybe theres some shade and yea i think i could stay here a while. no used rushing the adult situations and the credit cards and the early mornings.
[such motivation]

the men i know are really pissing me off.

ryan bought me a book of dali prints. i now need 45 frames and pronto. i can already see the empty wall in my apartment waiting for them. i could fall asleep every night looking at the wall and aiming my dreams in the right direction.

why do i feel like such a tool for listening to coldplay? hmm.

ah well. its friday. people everywhere are sleepy eyed or in love or drunk or reaching with mental lust or bored at home.

i need to go be one of those people.