"He was lying a hundred and fifty feet below the earth, inside the loneliest mountain in France- as if in his own grave. Never in his life had he felt so secure, certainly not in his mother's belly. The world could go up in flames out there, but he would not even notice it here. He began to cry softly. He did not know whom to thank for his good fortune... We are familiar with people who seek out solitude: penitents, failures, saints or prophets. They retreat to deserts, preferably, where they live on locusts and honey. Others, more spectacularly- squat in cages mounted high atop poles swaying in the breeze. They do this to be closer to god. Their solitude is a self-mortification by which they do penance. They act in the belief that they are living a life pleasing to god... Grenouille's case was nothing of the sort. There was not the least notion of god in his head. He was not doing penance or waiting for some supernatural inspiration. He had withdrawn solely for his own personal pleasure, only to be near himself. No longer distracted by anything external, he basked in his own existence and found it splendid."

-perfume, by suskind

ok so there is a lot to do this week. I'm preparing myself for a great big loss, and I'm trying to do it with style. unfortunately I'm not feeling very stylish. Though I hardly ever am.

It's so hot. Its a good thing I can't afford the luxury of sleep, because I don't think I'd be able to anyway. I feel like I'm going to burst. The splinter may be out of my hand, but it still aches. There is so much italian to translate, and every time i use my right index finger I feel the eerie sensation from my blister. I can't afford a blister right now. Not with all the typing I've yet to do.

Camping was a lot of fun. I went with the most positive upbeat people I could have found. Lots of high fives and marshmallows. A little bit of throwing up from dehydration, due to a "good" dose of sunshine followed by the reddening of previously alabaster skin, oh and a ridiculous amount of sneezing. Oh and we went up 206 to get to Jenny Jump State park, so I went through flanders, which made everything all the more odd.

I didnt really feel like I belonged. I really like maggie, and jay is great. Ray and Matt were really kool too, but I just didn't see where my place was. I kinda felt like a mom sometimes and at other times like one of the boys. These are two ways that I act when I'm not sure how to be myself. I like to hide in my clothes, especially my black hoodie from asylum. There is just enough room for me to feel safe, hidden. I think its psychologically imprinted on me from all the times i had to shed it on stage and bear my characters inner phantoms.

I think I'm too sensitive. Everything bothers me, even things that shouldnt bother me, but I just have such high anxiety all the time. I would like to disappear for a while.

There is a game, and just by mentioning it, no, just by thinking about it makes me lose this game. You've all just lost the game. The game is very simple. When you think about the game, you have lost it. Then you start over. If you say "i lost the game" those around you have not lost the game, even though they are now thinking of it. Its simple really. There is no prize, no penalty. The object of the game, is to not think about the game. This game bothers me. i do not play the game. Though I am told that by knowing about the game I am already playing it, or maybe I was playing the game all along, even before I knew about it.. only then I was winning. I'm not sure. Simple. Anyway, my point is that I do not like the game because of its very premise. It bothers me that my own awareness and thinking is destructive in this game. My ignorance, my blindness in acting within the game is what makes me a winner, and my sudden awareness is my downfall. This seems like a game I don't want to win. I don't like games like that. Something about it seems wrong. However I am told that I cannot not play the game. I shouldnt take these things so seriously, but when everything every light hurts your eyes, every touch burns your skin, every word penetrates and destroys your sense of self and direction, its hard not to want to shut it all out, climb beneath an isolated mountain into the caverns where nothing has ever lived and to lie there, completely free, completely alone, as if already in the grave. And yet, completely vulnerable.