I Don't Believe in Filler, Baby - If I Could, I'd Sit This Out

It's already August. I can't believe that it's already August.
Where have the past 9 months gone? It's all a blur.
Because you might as well have climbed into that coffin with her, with as much as you've contributed to society since then.

It's Friday already, too. I don't know where this week went, much less where the last month went.
Time has almost entirely lost it's meaning, and surprisingly, I'm okay with that. I'm obviously fond of my current lifestyle, as it's the one I'm choosing to live. Right? The people that give me shit for it are just jealous that they can't live like I do. Who wouldn't want to be able to live like this?
Who are you trying to convince?

I'm nervous about Sunday. Last Sunday went well- better than the Sunday before, anyway- but it was brief, and still a little awkward. We cut the players down from 6 to 3. That's half the game, gone, in a poof of temper and childishness. I'm still feeling remarkably unsettled about that day. I've never fought with any of my guy friends like that before- I've only ever seen that level of bitchy cattiness from girls.

But Randy doesn't have to work on Sunday, and that means we'll be able to play at least a little!
I'm... too afraid to really get my hopes up about it, though... in case it falls apart again.
You're still fidgeting.

Being the overwhelming escapist that I am, the opportunity to "become" a different person is one I can't let pass by. Any chance I have to dive, headfirst, into another world- to lose myself in a beautiful story... I'm going to take it. And be ever-excited about doing it again.
It doesn't hurt that you're playing a character that is merely an exaggerated, idealized version of what you wish you could be. She has and does everything you only wish you could.

I've also found that it's easier for me to leave the house and talk to someone, if I imagine that I'm Zen, and not Rina. They're talking to Zen. The world is really seeing Zen.
You realize how unhealthy that is for your already seriously damaged self-image?

I remember, years ago (2003), when I lived with Josh and David... we played the Original: Zen and Eric Game. Constantly. We were poor college kids, stuck in a 2 bedroom apartment together without cable or internet. We did what any self-respecting gamers would do: we gamed. A lot. Josh was an amazing DM, with an infinite imagination, and David and I were both really into it. We played all. the. time.
It got to the point that they called me Zen, even when we weren't gaming.
I remember the first time David did it, while he was washing dishes in the kitchen and I was sitting in My Chair (MINE, bitches) in the living room. He called out to ask me, "Hey Zen, are there any dishes in there?"
I couldn't have been happier.
And the time we were in Buy For Less, and they kept calling 'Rina' to get my attention, but I didn't hear them... Josh called out, "Zen!" and I turned without thinking.
That summer was one of the happiest of my entire life.
Do you have any idea how lame that sounds? I mean... really? Do you hear yourself? Your happiest summer was the summer you spent completely ignoring the rest of the world, and YOURSELF?

On an unrelated note, I woke up at 8am with -serious- lung pains... I mean, I've taken a deep breath and felt discomfort often early in the morning.. It comes from being a smoker.
But this morning was different. It hurt bad. For about 20 minutes, I couldn't breathe without coughing, and I could barely cough/breathe without crying. That shit hurt.

I just kept laying there, analyzing the pain.
I imagined my lungs filling up with black, tarry, sludgey cancer.
I also imagined Grandmama's body, and how she must have felt, with lungs and bones full of cancer...
I wondered if my lungs were going to collapse and if that would just be the end of it.
I silently wished they would.

It finally faded, and I was able to fall back asleep, but it was really freaky. I wonder what happened?
Oh, I don't know. It was probably because you smoked twice as many cigarettes as you normally do yesterday. At least five of them were smoked in the 2 hours before bed. Why are you fucking surprised?

I'm going to spend the afternoon at my grandfather's tomorrow, if I can manage to get the computer away from my cousin, because I want to use the internet to re-acquaint myself with the piano.
That's the best idea you've had in months. But do you really think you'll stick with it?

I've been awake for almost 3 hours. It's 4:20 somewhere. Fuck this, less writing, more smoking.