falling short

i think i lack certain traits. i don't know what exactly, but i feel as if i'm inept in almost every aspect; something's absent, or perhaps it was never there... a vacant space to fill leaves me empty, barren, dry. it makes me feel weightless, as if a single flick will deplete the force of gravity and cause me to take flight, not in a good way where i am boundless, but rather frightened and uncontrollable. then, at the same time, i feel heavy. heavy in my words, heavy in my pace. so heavy, pressure is exerted from every direction, holding me tight and maybe one day, i will simultaneously combust. grand. it's a battle i've ragged against myself and i will fight it alone. i've got will power.

but sometimes i think independence will only take you so far. maybe i should trust people more often. or... not more often, but trust the people close to me. i don't like to ask for help, unless under dire situations, and that makes me feel weak. should i set my stubbornness aside and allow the aid of friends/family/strangers to alleviate the problems i etch out? the pen's wrapped around my fingers and i still find something mundane to blame.

isabel is asleep next to me, snoring like a baby, and i have a cold and i can't stop sneezing. we're going to the brooklyn museum on saturday. that's if we wake up early. what is early? let's hope we wake up 2.5 hours before noon. i miss my mom. i miss my sister. my dad's still a shithead/asshole. also, i quit smoking. well i was actually only 8 days strong until we threw a party last weekend and i had like 4 cigarettes that night which is nothing compared to how much i used to smoke. i felt terrible the next day, but still decided to have another one because i gave in to temptation and i am a dumbfuck. so i did. it was nasty and i never want to smoke every again.

so... a storm finally hits nyc. it's the first nor'easter of the season. also, i have a weather map on my macbook dashboard so i knew this storm was coming. i love weather maps. i should also go back to reading about how america forged a national republic in the late 1700s. ugh, history. that class is full of annoying freshmen from long island who think they are so smart. obviously, i'm antisocial. (actually a friend in high school took a psychology class and then informed me that the term antisocial is politically incorrect, but who cares... we live in america. either hate it or embrace it)

peace and love,
tracy tranny