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Saturday, July 9th, 2005
5:09 am - There is no such thing as a safe cigarette.



I love reading random flists. Those of people I find in communities, people I find via friendsfriends. It feels voyeuristic. It feels good. It's good to know what other people are doing.

I've become strangely fascinated by everyone lately. I had a breakthrough the other day about someone I've known for four years that was mind-blowingly refreshing, and now I can't help but look at everyone a little differently. So much has to be taken into context when you evaluate someone's behavior. It's so easy to become offended or hurt by someone's actions if you aren't looking at them in perspective. I keep eyeballing people in supermarkets and wondering who they really are.

Ever since I was around fifteen, I've been struggling with the fact that I don't feel my age. I certainly don't feel pulled together in the way I assumed teenage girls did, before. You know - the make-up and jewellery and good posture don't come naturally, and somehow I thought they did. I have a new theory that everyone feels this way, and I like it. During a discussion the other day, John said that his dad has said repeatedly that, "Adults are just teenagers who wonder what happened." "YES!" I said. He also said that he still starts to say, "sixteen," when people ask how old he is. Me too, me too. And he's thirty.

This is all good, because lately I've been feeling like everyone is younger than me. It's graduation that brings it on; in my mind I'm still an eighth grader, and yet the kids a year younger than me just graduated high school. It makes no sense.

I miss the Oregon coast. I'm glad I don't live here.

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