The Laden Camel or The Imagined Catharsis That Never Comes To Those Who Need It Most

When i got home from a designer meeting tonight i went online. I went to the Reader (local free weekly paper) Matches site. I was looking up live music info at the Reader's main site a few days ago, and for those who don't know (or notice) there's a section of the page that randomly displays a picture of one of the registered users of their Matches section - a "meet me" kind of thing. I saw a girl. I signed up. It's also a bit of an experiment in meeting people and making new friends. I still haven't sent her a message - she's significantly older than i am. Probably not interested in a 24 year old. I feel like a child. Everyone tells me, "You're only 24. You've got so much time." That only makes me feel younger. Because if i were to feel any older it would require me to have accomplished much more in my life... to have accomplished anything in my life. Yeah, yeah, yeah, i've had cool experiences and i've been really lucky but after spending time on Facebook tonight and discovering people my age who have started families or have become amazing photographers or have become e.r. nurses and are saving people's lives, i don't feel like i've so much "made my mark." But that's ok. It really is. But it means i'm still really young. And maybe it's a hang-up because i look like i'm 20 or younger (which people are always cheerfully pointing out to me. Thanks!), some sort of subconscious blah blah blah fuck that. The point is: i feel like a child. It's like i told Andrea in Paris: "Being around you makes me feel like a little kid." She told me i was being ridiculous. But i did. I do. Sometimes i still think i'm that little kid sitting in his room playing with his legos, and it feels like everything i do is in some way an attempt to combat that. I went to a protest march last week and i wanted so badly for something to happen. Something drastic. A brick thrown. A window broken. So much pent up angerenergyfrustrationrage i just want to fucking scream. FUCKING SCREAM GODDAMNIT... but i don't. I won't. I want to fight, to sing, to cry, to dance, to break a bottle on a bar, to kiss a beautiful woman in the street and declare my love, and... but... i... it probably won't accomplish anything.

I got curious on Facebook. I found my nieces

a straw

*snap*

there went my fucking back

Maybe i'll send her a message - what can it hurt?