This has been the longest week that I can remember.

Work today was awful.

Trivia tonight, though.

I miss Mike.

Also, this is an amazing photograph. One of my friends from highschool uploaded it to her facebook. It's fucking amazing. I don't know why I think so, but I do.

I wonder how I come off to people.

This isn't something I worry about normally, but for some reason I started thinking about it. My roomate comes off as a very friendly, and knowledgable person. My friend Ian comes off as a strange twiggy outsider- but he softens after some conversation.

I wonder about me. Am I a brash, obnoxious, brightly-colored person? I know I'm obnoxious, but it's never something I like to admit about myself. I hope I'm not one of those people who is alright in "small doses."

Also, Lawl. Now I'm friends with my boss on Facebook.

The Fragile- Nine Inch Nails

Carry You- VNV Nation

Ground- Assemblage 23.

It is wrong to be hopeful?

If so, then I'm fucked.

However, I am continuing to keep myself occupied- to make plans with people, etc. I think it's funny that all of the sudden, men I haven't heard from in months are coming out of the woodwork now. I mean, it's flattering, but... I'm pretty much not interested.

Anyway.

I wonder if it's better to keep the feelings documented rather than just bottle them up and wait for them to pass. Of course, I don't mean to suggest that I want to stop feeling- it would just be nice until I get to be with him again. I hope it's not foolish that I hope that.

So, I apparently overreacted.

After a long conversation, apparently, I was mistaken about the ad. It's just really eerily similar to Mike's.

In this conversation I got a better, less robotic and careless feel for what is actually going on with him. We're more on a break than broken up, which I feel might be better for us in the long run if he

is able to figure things out. I feel much less wronged.

But one day at a time. Possibly easier to handle now.

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

Posted on Wednesday from Craigslist.com in the personals section. Men seeking women:

I'm not really sure how to write one of these things because I've never used Craigslist before. But here goes.

I'm a reasonably fit 21-year-old male with a good grasp of grammar and a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. I'm kind of shy. I'm an atheist and a rather aggressive, bitter liberal. I like to think of myself as inquisitive, usually open-minded, and reasonably mature. I'm well-read, although I couldn't make myself finish Gravity's Rainbow. I usually only read fiction in the summer. Obviously, I go to UGA, but I think I'm probably looking for a somewhat older woman. I don't have any arbitrarily specific age in mind, but I would like her to be reasonably fit and mature with a good grasp of grammar and a sense of humor, as well.

I'm not an alcoholic (but I do prefer white wine to red) or a creep or a hipster. I don't smoke. I'd just like to meet somebody interesting, maybe somebody not originally from Athens. I've only been here five years.

E-mail me if you'd like to talk.

P.S. I probably should include some of my interests and stuff, so I'm interested in architecture, books and literature generally, conversation, exercise, music (not really into any local scenes), pets, poker, travel. I like movies a lot, but I don't watch much television. I think I'm pretty open to new things

This is the personal ad of my ex boyfriend. Ex as in he left me two days ago. He left me and told me that he had no intention of being with anyone for a while. This was posted yesterday.

I want to kill myself. Was I so easy to leave and move on from?

Ahhh. Status update.

This is more for me than for anyone else. Actually, I'm remembering to blog for myself rather than because I want other people to read it.

I am glad I went to work today. My coworkers are amazing. The constant workflow was really distracting. And my bosses are wickedly funny- one of them swore to make me a mix tape of his favorite old breakup songs.

Lol.

Tomorrow is another day.

Oh god, the morning after.

I just want to die.

I put all of his things in a christmas bag, because it's the only thing large enough, and still, it's not large enough. Every thing that I put in the bag is just a stabbing reminder that someone who wrote "with all my love," on the inside of something doesn't mean it anymore. Maybe time heals all wounds, but if what I were feeling were a corporeal wound, I'd be dead right now.

It's just hard to comprehend, because he is such a large part of my lfe. Haa. I suppose I mean was. I know him. Now he'll take every route to avoid every coming into contact with me. I'll never see him again. I'll probably get my stuff back via Glen or someoone.

This can't be happenening. This can't be real. I just want to wake up from this horrible dream to him in my bed and snoring like this morning was supposed to happen.

I've dropped off of the project for various reasons. I would like to start up again, but I'm not exactly the most motivated I've ever been in my life. I'm refraining from being hurt and vocal on facebook and the like, but I felt that I needed to get it off of my chest somewhere. And since the only person who reads this ever isn't ever going to read this again, I think I might be safe.

My boyfriend of one and a half years just broke up with me. I have never been this deeply heartbroken in my entire life. I honestly do not know what to do with myself. I didn't see this coming, and there wasn't anything I could say to dissuade him from his decision. His answer to my asking him if he loved me was to rephrase it and answer "I care about you." The fact that he can be so cold whenever we had relationship discussions always unnerved me, but never more than this time. I essentially just got it's not you- it's me'd. It was as though it was easy for him to throw away our relationship. Though I know that's not really fair.

And though I'm heartbroken and upset, and angry a little bit on top of it all, there is nothing I wouldn't do to have him back in my life. This was a love I'd never felt before, and I am so sad to see it slip away from me. I just love him so much. It's hard to understand that the feeling isn't mutual anymore. I wonder how long it's been like this.

I hate myself for being able to say I'd wait for him. Wait for him to change his mind, realize how important I am. Especially since it's all so purile and meaningless. I feel like the carpet was yanked out from under my feet. I don't feel whole.

Tomorrow morning is going to be horrible.

59.365

I thought that this image actually looked really neat. I kept my camera in the breakroom at the bookstore all day. The bookstore is colder than outside. Also, when I got out of work, it was raining. So, when I decapped my lens, it immediately began to fog up. This image was taken through a partially wiped-off lens during a rainy wait in a bus stop.

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I got my Watchmen tattoo touched up today. Then went to play Magic at Starbucks with Micheal. Fun times.

57.365

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Final Fantasy 8. It's what I did this week.

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Two parter. I have heinous bruises, at the moment. One of them is almost gone now, but it was much more pronounced in the photograph. In my experience, cameras cannot accurately capture the depth of color in a bruise without the proper filters.

Anyway. The one on my outer calf is a mystery. I have no idea where it came from.

The one on my thigh was the shelf at Grand Slam being an asshole. Sideswiped.

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Sorry about the mass dumping. This is at least a week's worth of photos.

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Headed home from a weekend at Ian's. 

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During late-night, multiplayer magic game. (I won.)

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At Mike's apartment.

Summer.

I really hate the summer. I can't ever remember liking it, even when I was young enough to not feel lazy for not having a job to go to. It's just endless hot days stretched out as far as the eye can see.

All of the things people usually do during the summer don't especially appeal to me.

I'd like to go to the beach, but I don't know anyone else who wants to/ has a car.

I'm torn on going to a swimming pool. My apartment complex has one, but I haven't owned a bathing suit in four years. I maintain that I'd rather be naked in front of people than in a bathing suit. I'm not sure why. I just hate myself in them.

I can only sit and read so many books/ play so many videogames/ surf the internet for so long. 

Haband is getting tired of me. I can't get them to talk to me anymore. I need a job so badly that I've even asked my mother to see if they would take me back at the dining hall for the summer. 

I was so excited that they gave me hours at the bookstore later this week that I did a sort of jig. No really.  It's only two shifts, but I feel sort of special- only me and one other person were called in for hours. I get to work Thursday, noon to close. Then I work Friday from ten am to five. I was so sure that they were just fucking me with hours, but it seems the god of scheduling has taken pity.

My boyfriend gets to start class this week. I wish so badly that I could, too. I hate being poor like this. Being the kind of poor that stops me from doing something that I fucking need to do. I swear it won't always be like this. I don't care what I have to do, but I will be able to go to the grocery store and buy everything I need one day. 

Ugh, I should stop self-pity blogging and do something. I've been cleaning all day, to make me feel like I was doing something.