And I'm not so strong,

to be satisfied by all the things I've done,
Or the things I threw away.

You know what's silly? I've been home for almost an hour and have done nothing except change into comfortable clothes, drink a cup of coffee and get myself a bowl of chips. We had an exam in history tonight, and Amelia and I both finished in about 20 minutes, so I drove us around for awhile (since it was the prettiest time of the evening to be up in the hills), dropped her off at about 8:30, and was home by 9. I should be finishing up biology lab homework (due tomorrow), and if I were a really good student, I'd get a head-start on tomorrow's lab so that I'm not stressed and confused all morning. I might also get to work now so that I can actually get a good amount of sleep tonight. But at the present moment I feel rather incapable of doing anything but sitting here and listening to music and writing and eating tortilla chips.

I don't know exactly why today was so particularly crushing, but it was. Last night, in fact, I told Amelia that I've been feeling a breakdown coming for a few days now... well, I didn't breakdown today, at least not in tears or anything. I just kind of feel... depleted. I've got an insane month ahead and nothing left to give. I'm running off of steam. Today when I was home for an hour between work and school, Mom walked into the room and I told her something to that effect... she had just accepted an invitation to have lunch with someone from church and she told me, "If I'd known you were in the mood to talk, I wouldn't have just agreed to lunch." I told her that I wasn't really in the mood to talk - I haven't been for weeks. I didn't realize that until I said it. Even when I've been hanging out with Amelia lately - either she's been doing all the talking or else we just sit there together in silence and think. I was trying to think of why that is, and the only thing I kept coming up with was Thumper from Bambi saying, "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all." Nobody likes to hear people complain. Light things, small-talk, that's different; people can deal with that. But sometimes I say things and nobody, not even the people who know me best, knows what to tell me. I guess that's why people blog, isn't it? You just write things, and you don't have to expect a response. It's nice.

There was a dance on Saturday, one of those 50's themed ones, which means the girls get to wear poodle-skirts made of yards and yards and yards of fabric that twirls out fantastically when they spin. I always love those dances - especially now that I know lindy-hop well enough to look good doing it (generally-speaking...). Saturday's dance was nice - there were actually a few really lovely moments. (Tossed in with some awkward ones, of course... but it wouldn't be a home-school dance without those.) Without a doubt, though, the loveliest part of the night was when I got back into my car to go home, and I realized that I didn't have to drive anyone home. I've gotten so used to doing that that it felt strange to be alone - then I realized that I wasn't tired, and I didn't want to go home, but it was the middle of the night and there was nobody that I could hang out with... so I went driving. I followed the same road out and coasted through the empty roads of the higher foothills, the ones that look over all of the city and the ocean and the oil-rigs on the horizon that are lit up with shimmery yellow lights. The lights of houses and stores, and even the headlights and taillights on the roads, all sort of wax and wane together, so that when viewed from a height, the city seems to pulse. I drove down the road for almost an hour that night.

I wish I could have just kept driving. I don't mean that in a cheesy, cliche, no-one-understands-me-here-and-I-hate-my-life way. Not at all. But the older I get, the more I realize that it is just a truth of life that there are some types of people that simply have to leave. It doesn't matter where they are; they just have to go. I think that's an important thing to realize - I didn't for a long time, so I'd get offended when people would leave and not think about home until they had to come back. I assumed it meant that they didn't love me. Then I started going places on my own and then I understood. It's nothing personal - well, sometimes it can be, but essentially it's not about that. I can't say just yet exactly what it is about... I only know that it's a part of people like me.

Well shucks. I'd better work on homework before I fall asleep. If it's night-time where you are, and you're feeling restless and awake, you ought to go for a drive. Find a hill somewhere and park on it and look at the city where you live. Things look beautiful when they're away from you.