If You Hate Your Friends, You're Not Alone- Pretty Girls Make Graves

I felt a funeral in my brain,
And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
That sense was breaking through.
And when they all were seated,
A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till I thought
My mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,
And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead,
Then space began to toll

As all the heavens were a bell,
And Being but an ear,
And I and silence some strange race,
Wrecked, solitary, here.

And then a plank in reason, broke,
And I dropped down and down--
And hit a world at every plunge,
And finished knowing--then--

-Emily Dickinson


We're studying Dickinson's poetry in my American Romantics class and I have to say, I really do enjoy her poetry and envy how easy her genius came to her. I wrote a poem too, but it's nothing compared to hers...

i'm tired of letting it roll off
my shoulders wearings away/
i'm tired of turning a blind eye
pretending I've nothing to say/
it's building up inside of me
this cork is bound to burst/
these gloves are about to come off
wait and see who swings first-

That's written about my roommate because she's been annoying the shit out of me lately. Her boyfriend got his second DUI a while back. His dad works at the school and gives him rides to class every day, but he doesn't leave until his dad does. That's usually around 6, 6:30. So guess what I get to do all day? Walk on eggshells, not relax, listen to their cooing whispers, her "playfully" punch him, and their gross wet sloppy making out. It's like I don't even exist in my own room.

And what's more fucked up is that I have asked her time and time again to tell me when he is coming over, and she never has. I just stopped asking her to tell me because A) she doesn't do it and B) I just assume he'll be here anyway.

Kristen says her biggest fear is being alone, but I got some news for her: She is alone. Yeah, she has a boyfriend, whoopty fucking doo. But she's pushing away all of her friends. When she would cry about her ex, Kevin or ask us what she should do about a bad relationship, we were all there for her BECAUSE SHE WANTED US TO BE THERE FOR HER. SHE NEEDED US. And of course, being the good friends we are, we we're more than happy to listen to her sob stories. They were immature and futile, but we never said that. We understood that what may seem immature to us, was a big deal to her. But now that she has her "dream guy" and isn't "alone" because she has a boyfriend, she's pulling away from all of us.

The girls who live off campus never see her anymore. I make it a point to go visit them at least once a week. Yes, Kristen is a dancer and usually has rehearsal, but she doesn't have that every day. And if she REALLY wanted to see Colleen and Courtney, she would make the effort to call them and maybe plan to do something during the day. But of course, she doesn't do this. She would rather lay in bed with her boyfriend and coddle and coo.

Another thing that bothers me about Kristen is that everything that happens to her is the worst thing ever. If you have a headache, she has a migraine. If your stomach hurts, she just threw up. If you have a soar throat, she has an ulcer on her tonsil.

She doesn't realize how lucky she is. Her family is healthy, they don't have to worry about cutting back for Christmas, her parents have stable jobs. Whatever...



So anyway, I was in bed watching cash cab listening to a sloppy make out session and I just snapped. And it felt so good. And she didn't say shit back to me. But I'm sure when I turned around, she gave me the finger. That's how she can get sometimes. So now I'm writing all of this down just to get it out, and I can feel her judgy eyes barrelling into the nape of my neck. And when I leave, I wouldn't be surprised if she goes on my computer to try and look up this blog and read what I wrote about her.

Good Luck.

Ahhhhhhhhh, anyway. I need to get some dinner and read Sula.

Have a good one. Hope you have wonderful roommates.