sicknick

06.03.04 - 4:06 p.m.
counting sheep

i'm sleeping like shit again...didn't fall asleep until after 8 in the morning. what the fuck?

millions of things go running through my mind when i can't sleep, and i suppose that doesn't help the situation.

like this morning for example...for some reason i started thinking about all of my friends that have died and what it would be like if they were still around. i tried desperately to make these thoughts go away, but they stayed...ugh.

paul. he was the first loss i ever experienced (besides my great-grandparents when i was a little kid), and by far the most difficult for me. we met when i was 15 through mutual friends at a hardcore show (i think)...by the time i was 16 i had started dating one of our mutual friends and subsequently hung out with paul more often. i hated him but loved him at the same time. he was difficult and stubborn yet lovable and sweet...i think he thought the same of me, and that's why we stayed in each other's lives. after a few years of seeing one another "around" at shows and whatever, we actually wound up dating for a brief time when we were 19. i had just gotten out of a 2 1/2 year relationship and started to hang out with some of the guys he hung out with. it just happened...like that love/hate relationship we had was just a bunch of sexual tension that needed releasing. it was weird and didn't last long because, from what i heard, i wouldn't have sex with him. well, needless to say, i was a little pissed for awhile...but eventually we got to be friends again. we developed a purely "phone" friendship...we didn't hang out much but talked on the phone quite frequently. in fact, he almost moved into the flat above mine when i was 21. then all of the sudden october 1997 rolls around and he's dead. the one thing that i never understood about him was ultimately his demise...graffitti. he fell through the roof of an abandoned warehouse. and all i can ever think about is the fact that the last couple of times we actually saw each other we didn't talk...he was always different around his friends, and it made me uncomfortable. so that's that. 6 1/2 years later...would we still be friends? i'm not sure. we'd probably see each other around and say what's up and all that crap...but at least he wouldn't be dead. i have dreams about him sometimes, and i always ask him what he's doing there. the dreams are always as if he's still alive...but i know better. he had beautiful blue eyes, loved vegan peanut butter pie, and did a very disturbingly accurate impression of john travolta from welcome back kotter.

::sigh::

well, i got off to a late start today so i better get in the shower. a long evening at the bar awaits...

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