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2002-02-21 - 12:28 a.m.|Introspeculsputumaginifinsight? Today I have a feeling I haven't had in ages. Its a bad feeling. I've often described it as "a feeling of unnamable dread". It feels like something really bad has happened, and I can't quite remember what it is. But when I take stock of recent events, nothing at all bad has happened. To be honest, nothing really bad has ever happened in my life that wasn't a direct result of my own actions. I don't know why I feel this way. Except that I have my period. Or as F. at work says, my friend is in town. And as B. at work says, oh him. I hate that guy. That just strikes me as funny, as few things B says do. My life the past 18 months has been entirely about coming to terms with my past. I never know who's going to make a guest appearance. I had drinks with one of my most notorious high school classmates last night. The girl everyone's mother warned them about. I hadn't seen her in nearly ten years, or even thought of her. At all. I didn't recognize her; the last time I saw her she had thick black eye makeup, black clothes, and spiky hair of an unnatural color. This was back when a punk still rated a passing glance; no, you kids today didn't invent disaffected fashion. Neither did we, I suppose. Now she's got long blond hair with no products, no makeup, jeans and a shirt, flip flops. Beautiful. She's also a massage therapist. We went to the same massage school, different years of course. Anyway, and this is my epiphany of the week, she made reference twice to how people used to be frightened of her or shun her for being weird. And I really had no idea that it had bothered her. E.L. said the night before last how he'd been tortured in school and I had no idea cause I'd been too busy being tortured myself. I realized that everyone had a rough time of it in school, more or less. And what I've spent the last ten years trying to get over was just life. Its always seemed like my friends who are my age and I have existed in a hundred acre wood, a never land. We aren't the grownups, our parents are. And I figured out that its always gonna seem that way, people who you have a common though sometimes parallel history with seem like the young person you always will see yourself as. That's why old ladies always have that same permed hair; it was the style when they were young. And as crazy (in a bad way) L. from my traditional college days said, we're gonna be old people in our rocking chairs wearing rock concert t-shirts and torn up jeans. And I say now, yeah, if we're lucky.
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