||[Nov. 10th, 2009|12:41 am]
|||||New York City Cops: The Strokes||]|
So Lt Evans asked me to do this, in fact to keep two journals. One with typical thoughts about the day, the other with more intimate ideas. This may include anything from sexual, to deeply emotional, to thoughts of self-hurt or hurting others. So this one will be essentially a manifest of daily events, at least for now.
I'm not quite sure what is happening with Pollock. I never thought he hated me this much, but he seems to be very intent with fucking me over. Then there is the question of whether my chit will ever make it through to chief. I've decided at this point that if this adjudication is close to coming through, that I will request to leave this unit. It's the only possible remedy that would either remove me from this ambience, or that would scare them into leaving me alone. Tomorrow however will mostly depend upon chief. If he says that Pollock never spoke to him, then Pollock is fucked, and that would be awesome. I'm 99% sure that will be the result.
Other than that, nothing is going. Soccer went well. 3-1 win in the playoffs to the next round. Happy I've one less class. Thanksgiving is fucked and if they adjudicate me for this offense, I wont have Christmas break either. Fuck. Well I think I'll come out alright in the end.
Alex finally admitted to me that me leaving is for the best. I suggested it a week ago and he thought I was stupid for even thinking it, but finally he said it'd be a good idea, after all that has happened tonight.
There are many times when I'm happy I have Alex. He's not loud and intense like Torre, but then he doesn't have the same intellectuality that I'd expect. He makes up however by possesing a great use of common sense and willpower. I remember the weekend before my birthday, sitting in Creevy's van, over a bottle of Captain, him and I just talking about how much we dislike American youth and how we're the only ones that understand each other. It was just funny. Too many drunk words. It sucks only because there are parts I don't remember, but it all felt sincere. And it all felt so safe. I would never have thought then that I'd be in this mess. Everything except her felt secure. There was only one hole at that time. But now, there are way too many to count.
I wondered about ;lansdf;jbvboewibvas today. I was in ethics class and my mind went haywire, listening to people trying to reason things we shouldnt or cant. It was horrible so I started thinking about things I can't even recall, but it felt wonderful to lose cognitive thought for a few minutes.
I'm bored of this. The only thing that's keeping me going at this point is the idea of showing them that they're all wrong. Then I'll be truly happy.
Buddha makes a lot of sense. I like him. I'm going to keep reading Buddha.
Life is nothing but suffering, and if we accept this, then we can either successfully detach ourselves permanently from these things which make us suffer and live a life of singularity, or we can manage our suffering to continue pushing through. I like it. Sounds like the old me.