Delusions of London

*From May 11, 2011, something is wrong with this post and I don't understand why it moved*

"She didn't know what good it would do, or even what she expected to hear. She just wanted more of something."
- Maureen Johnson, The Last Little Blue Envelope

For the record, this is the first blog post I've done while crying. I haven't posted anything in a while because I don't want to keep writing about things that have really happened. I want to record my thoughts. I feel like a really unintelligent person, and no one I've mentioned this to has managed to convince me otherwise simply because I can't remember the last time I just thought about something. I'm always thinking about the moment - what I'm seeing, hearing, feeling. I never think outside myself. So I don't want to write those things down.

I bought that sequel to Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes tonight, using a gift card from my birthday - I figured I should get that out of my wallet, and also I really wanted to read this book. I had a lot of expectations. The ending to the first book was awful, and this book was supposed to fix that. It was supposed to make everything OK for the main character and I already knew how that was going to happen.

But it didn't. Things went wrong in chapter two and for me, that damage was irreparable. I read the whole book, but with about a hundred pages to go I started crying and have barely stopped. I calmed down and then I thought about how betrayed I feel by the turns of events in this book and I just kept going.

Like the first time I read the first book, I have been listening to the acoustic version of Fall Out Boy's Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner on repeat the whole time I've been reading. But this version that I've downloaded has a faint ticking in one spot that wasn't there the first time I downloaded the song, or maybe I never noticed (in the 300+ times I listened to it... unlikely), and it sounds wrong and that upsets me too. And then I remember that Fall Out Boy broke up.

Now that I've been crying for an hour, I have to wonder if there is a point at which I should begin to be worried by how upset I am, and what I'm supposed to do when I get to that point. I don't think this qualifies as hysterical or anything, it's just a constant. I guess I should just try to sleep.