All I can do is watch it happen.

Sheila Heti wrote in a journal for over a decade, uploaded it into Excel, sorted the sentences alphabetically, and released Alphabetical Diaries. I’m reading it right now and loving how you can get to know someone even when there is a complete lack of order. (Speaking of lack of order, do we need to talk about all the shit that’s happening in the world?! (We don’t. Not today.))

I’ve been writing in a journal since I was 11, but the only notebook that still exists (because I had a book burning!) is the one that goes from February 16, 1990 to March 17, 1991. The journal is absolutely horrible. I was absolutely horrible. (I used the word Whore a lot.)

Earlier this week I went through the first 52 pages of that journal, typed the sentences that couldn’t be used to identify anyone(!!!), and alphabetized them. AND that’s what falls below the horizontal line (along with some photos from the past several months, because photos add color, especially if they aren’t black and white). Enjoy hanging out with 19-year-old me.

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Afterwards we went back to our hotel room. All I can do is watch it happen. Although I never did the duty, I’m honored to have been chosen. At one point we got out the Ouija board. At one point, it got really quiet.

But there was no way I was going to go with these feelings, so I got comfortable and slept. But, instead of stopping, I kept going. But there’s a problem.

Does it sound like I’m trying to talk myself into something?!

Especially since I am almost 20 years old.

He said, “I think people feel uncomfortable around me because I was in a psych ward.” Help. His cheeks get really red when he’s cold.

I better stop now. I can deal with him, but not for very long periods of time. I fell asleep on the chair. I find it hard to look at him because he always seems to have crusty things on his mouth. I found this out the hard way. I got my highest score ever! I have no goals. I shaved my head. I tried again right away and got through. I watched a movie today called When Harry Met Sally.

I’ll never forget Fred and Ginger. I’m home for spring break until next Sunday. I’m tired.  If love has got you down, then love can get you right back up! It’s a formal party.

Kodo is a Japanese percussion ensemble.

Last night I got drunk at the doghouse. Last night I saw Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Let’s go to the hospital and look at the babies.

Nothing looks right, and I feel really stupid.

Please burn my pictures and any other things that remind you of me. Pretty soon, I acted like I had fallen asleep.

She tells me that it’s for me, and that it’s a man. She was high, and he was drunk. So, we’re supposed to get together and talk sometime today. Sort of strange, but in a good way.

Thank you for the purple cow. The line was busy. The whole drug dealing thing turns me off. Then we all laid around on the floor. They were all sleeping on the floor, so we had two beds for the four of us.

We all started talking, and I mentioned that I need a bed. We go to the park by the zoo and sit on a big blanket. We must have gotten a bad batch, so we didn’t have a very good time. We were drinking Kool-Aid and Everclear. We’re not going to do anything that costs money, because neither of us has any. Well, that’s bullshit.

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Next up, pages 53-112.
Maybe with more Whore!