I am the pirate who does nothing. In my face, I can see reflected the weeks upon weeks upon weeks of the layers of grey that have slowly settled over me, and I'm struck by the meaninglessness of it all. Sarah, my acting, my schoolwork, my home, my town--all voids, all void, all meaning void. They don't exist. And while on the outside I weep for them, underneath it all D.H. Lawrence is right; it's like a tranquil pond because I have ceased to acknowledge their existence. I live in a dreamlike detachment from the rest of the world, it seems like Here In Paradise nothing ever goes wrong. So why am I so upset? I want to be out there, I want to live it all and I want to be like Siddharta: I want to glow with my own radiance of being clean and having accepted that Lili can be no more than what Lili makes herself out to be. Lili can only learn what Lili would learn--but I'm jealous of all those other people, different from me, learning stuff that I'm not. I want to know it too! I want to be rich, poor, black, white, perfect, flawed, a prostitute, a lady, I want to be a man, a woman, a child and an adult, I want to be everything and when I'm done, I want to have gained the knowledge of all these thing and I want to have become a better person for it. When I told these things to you, you laughed at me. It made me feel...

bad,

even though I know you were just reacting to the fear you get when you hear me talk crazy about life like that. I felt stupid. And now I feel even worse, because the longer I stare at the phone, the more the realization that you're not going to call me today builds up, and I can feel the tears clawing at the backs of my eyes like rabid dogs. I can already feel the sweet, bile-like taste of an apology that I needn't even give creeping up my throat, I am burned by the scorn I know both of us have for my weakness--but I hate fighting! It's so stupid, bluebird, why do we do it? Why did you have to tell me mean things? Why, in your heart, do you think I'm a fool? I know, I know and know and know until I know no more, because I can see it in your eyes, bluebird. You think I'm a worthless dreamer, a fool a fool a fool! But aren't you one too? So I guess I'll wait for you some more, because, as everyone knows, you and I are the pirates who don't do anything. Not ever.