Emptiness.

There isn't anything there.

It's an emptiness, and I can feel it.

A nothingness, and I haven't got a clue how to fill it.

I suppose there's a reason I've always hated summer the most, because it all seems so pointless, now it's brought to my attention.

And if it's pointless, what am I to do?

Too much is starting to feel out of my control. There isn't anything behind it all, and that's what drives me to this.

I'm starving, but I'm not hungry. I'm tired, exhausted, worn out, but I can't fall asleep. I'm thirsty, but I refuse to drink anything.

But really, I'm just frustrated. I'm so lost, right now, and I haven't a clue why. Worst of all, I have no idea how to find my way back.

I'm afraid this will persist even when school starts at the end of August.

Even more, though, I'm absolutely terrified that, instead of finding my way out of this, I'll just give up.

And (what I don't want to think about) what actually happens when I do?

All I know is, it's making me angry, this nothingness. All I know is, it's killing me inside, this emptiness. Hollowed out. Eaten from within.

Self-pity, I loathe it. What if that's what I'm feeling? Am I a hypocrite then? Or maybe that isn't it. I don't know. I just feel pathetic, and boneless, and pointless, and infuriated at myself and everything around me.

I'm killing myself slowly and I don't even know why.

And at this very moment, no matter what anyone says to me, all I want to do is tell them to just 'fuck off.' I know I can't, but I want to.

And the worst part is, I can't even write. And that, that kills me more than anything else combined.

Quiet.

I feel strangely alone today. Alone, and I suppose, lonely.

I've been trying to read, trying to not be an emotional eater, and listening to a bunch of Mozart and Bach, as well as Ingrid Michaelson. Nothing seems to sound good to me today.

I want silence, but I can't stand the sound.

This is all rather silly.

- - -

I'm Not Alright - Sanctus Real



I don't feel like typing up a post. But I thought it would be nice to let some of the world know that I'm still here.

I'm gonna go take a walk now.

Oh, and don't read too much into the song. It was just the first one I could find to listen to this morning. And if it works because it says what I feel, when I don't know what I feel right now, then yay, I guess I'm that good.

Ta, now.

Update, if anything.

I don't really have anything to say.

I got a new phone, an actual real one, instead of that old tracphone I had.

And now, apparently, U. feels free as a bird to text me for hours. We talk through texting, which isn't so bad. But he told me that apparently he and his girlfriend have already told each other they love each other. . . friends or not, I don't want to hear it. (sigh)

Ah well. I'll live.

Anyway, I had a dream about my dad last night. And so far we've exchanged some emails, which is way more than has been in a long while.

Anyway, that's all. I'm going to go nurse my knee, which has a cut on it thanks to my cats. I just know it'll leave a scar. (sigh) I hate it when they gang up on me and I walk into the corner of my desk, lol.

Such is life.

Ta!

Happy Birthday to me . . .

Is it wrong to feel jealous?

I hate being the third wheel out. Or was it fifth wheel? Either way, it was me and other couples.

The night sky just isn't as beautiful that way.

And in the end, I'm still cold, aren't I? When the breeze rustles through the trees overhead, and caresses my face as though it knows why I have my back to them, when it wraps itself around me as I walk away to the hammock twenty feet away, I'm still cold, am I not?

And at the end of the night, when U. drops me off last and gives me a hug, it doesn't seem so bad, and I feel lighter, and then I get back into my room, and realize - it still isn't the same.

One day, I will get this right before it's too late. One day, I won't be afraid to get it right the first time. And, one day, I won't have an excuse.

That day seems far off, though.

And I'm still cold, and I'm still alone.

I feel like I'm whining, now.

So goodnight.

My Sweet Song - Toby Lightman

I'm pretty sure now -

M. is gay.

Is it harsh to say it that way?

But I guess, it's partly true.

I just finished reading "A Clock Without Hands" by Guy Burt. It is amazing. And it had me crying towards the end. It took a while to get adjusted to the way it was written, how it seems to jump between four different times in the main character's life, but it's really good. I think it was the perfect thing for me to have read at just this moment in my life. It deals with a lot of stuff I've been thinking about lately, especially how a lot of us only seem to live in the past. What I mean is, I only ever understand things after I have no way to change them, to fix them. So, we get lost in the past, finally piecing things together, while we continue to struggle to wade through the present, while life before us continues to puzzle us completely. It also deals with a lot of other things, some that were just so heartbreaking to read. But it was perfect for right now.

Anyway.

It's my birthday today.

It should be a good thing, but instead, it feels just like all the others. Everyone's life continues on the way they're going, and this day doesn't change a thing. My birthday has never been this great big special thing, so, I suppose, that's how I have come to see it. But that doesn't stop the anticipation, as if I'm still hoping that something might happen. That isn't likely though. And I don't really expect it anymore. Everyone is always busy with work and life, I'm just a second thought anymore, if that.

Oh, and I got an email from my dad last night. I read it today, and he wished me a happy birthday, as well as spouting a bunch of other stuff about how he prays for me everyday. He's an ordained minister, now. He took two months to reply to my letter, and the one I sent before that didn't even get a response. But he "loves" me. I'll tell you what, I feel the love.

I feel the love.

Ta.

Better, isn't it?

I feel light, right now. So . . . free. Lol.

My mind is focused on "PS I Love You." You know the movie? (It makes me a little bit melancholy, but that's okay.)

Well, I'm listening to the soundtrack (which is all fabulous music).

And the song 'More Time' by Needtobreathe is what I've been listening to with a lot of favoritism. Lol. Odd way to say that. In other words, I really like this song. As well as 'If I ever leave this world alive' by Flogging Molly. Great song as well.

Anyway. Starting the lengthy research on my book, now. Rented a huge, heavy stack of books from the library earlier today. Now, time to sift through it all. Fun stuff (no, not really sarcastic, kind of serious actually). And it would be even more fun if I didn't have to take such a long time to read it. I wish I read faster. *sighs* Oh well.

Alright. Now, I'm going to get off the computer and either a) sleep, or b) read and then fall asleep on my bed. Lol. I'm thinking probably the former, but who knows in life?

Like, did I expect U. to come out and start dating one of my friends (who I'm going to college with in the fall)? Or, did I expect M. to post a note on facebook saying he has (and I quote exactly) "fallen too hard and too fast for someone" that he has known only "for a very short time, weeks in fact." I mean, I knew he didn't really like me, but wow. Plus, there goes Mr. Inarticulate spouting what could morph into agonized, unrequited love poetry quite easily. Makes me feel rather, well, put out. I guess. I mean, I don't like him, but I can't help feeling like a two-year old, throwing a little temper tantrum, stamping my foot and shouting "Why couldn't I have made him do that?!" Lol. Sad.

But, things are resolved this way, which is what I wanted. And I'm happy for it.

Now, I can get on with focusing on my life, and getting things done.

YES!

Lol. Ta!

Drunken Lullabies - Flogging Molly (don't ya just love them?) ;)

What I wrote somewhere else a couple days ago.

My poor, poor notebook. Its pages get more traffic than it can ever hope to withstand. I suppose the same could be said of my mind: when it starts, it never wants to stop. So, here below are some of last night's thoughts for you to peruse.

6/16/09
Ahh, what is wrong with us? We set up this illusion of elegance, of Hollywood-perfect blissfulness. We create this image to soothe our anxieties and low self-esteems, our doubts, while provoking a bone-deep jealousy and yearning for what we know can’t be just around the corner, or down the block. Life isn’t this way, and it ruins us.

I just watched The Truth about Cats & Dogs and if you’ve ever seen it, you’d just know. This thing that we do, out of books, and movies, and so on, creates this great big fallacy out of life. They make it seem easy, even when they don’t. Because the beauty of books and movies is that they have a definitive beginning, an agonizing middle, and a typical end. It’s all mapped out with a surety, through difficulties, through heartbreak. We can easily define when things are going to get better and end happily ever after. If you’ve read The Thirteenth Tale, you’ll understand what I mean. Life doesn’t go on without these things, this trifecta.

Yet life is nothing like this. It takes a huge slap in the face for realization to set in that The Truth about Cats & Dogs doesn’t set the typical pattern. Those kinds of movies aren’t exactly the truth. The guy doesn’t always fall in love with the complete, physical opposite of the tall blonde and beautiful, whether or not the blonde is a complete and utter idiot. And it’s movies just like that that make us want to believe it does happen.

Stories like that which make me want to believe it. Life is the reality I have to wake up to in the morning, however. A reality which fairly pulls my heart out of my chest with a desperate yearning for the very illusions that surround us every day. It makes the things I do seem hollow, like fillers, meaningless babble in the middle of a story as I wait for the real stuff to begin. This ache in my chest makes me feel smaller in the midst of galaxies. I feel like an ant among giants, seeing things from a wholly different perspective, and completely incapable of reconciling the two points of view. Sometimes, I get a sense that overpowers other thoughts, the impression that there is an entire lifetime full of things that I am missing out on. I even feel like I’m doing something wrong, that my actions prevent the cessation of this terrible, throbbing pain inside my chest. And I can feel it, too, it isn’t just a vague idea in my mind. It’s there, pulsing with its own life, every time I breathe.

I have tried to be patient, tried to talk reason to myself in the darkest hours. Hell, I’ve even written stories and poems to calm the protests, and lay to rest the images and ideas, hopes and wistful, wishful scenes within my heart. And it works, too, for a while. But the wrong thing, the precise placement of key events and phrases, the – how do you say? – celestial alignment of specific words, which trigger memories, work against me. Unfortunately for my peace of mind, too many things seem to spark volatile, significant memories in my mind’s eye. My imagination quickly takes over.

Quite simply, I can’t find the words to describe how I feel anymore, except maybe blank, vague, restless, distant, or apathetic. But that isn’t it either. It’s a distinct perspective I’m looking from, a peculiar side of things from which I observe the world. Perhaps I am too cognizant of the lack of what I see. I know there’s something missing, and the realization almost kills me with the knowledge. It’s all bound up within me, bursting with frankness, too much of the truth for blind acceptance, because I can see it nearly everywhere I look.

There is something vital, something elemental, that is quite simply missing from my life, missing from the world around me, something that starves my words and hollows my meanings and makes everything I do utterly pointless.

I wrote the phrase down an hour ago, before I even understood it, I think. It was all by itself, in that sort of stark honesty we all seem to shy away from, but that the stories we see and read seem to want to force back upon our consciousness. I wrote this sentence before I actually knew how far down it spreads its roots, before I could see how right it really is. I don’t want to accept that this is the reason things appear empty or unimportant, but when I truly sort through it all, it becomes undeniable. When I look back on all I’ve written, I know that it’s true.

Essentially: I want to fall in love.

And until I do, I am quite sure I will continue to wonder just what it is in life that I don’t see. Until I do, all my stories of love will continue to fall flat on themselves, too heavy with uncertainty, too structurally flawed, to support the ideas they stand for.

In this instance, it simply isn’t sustaining enough to imagine.


As you get to the end, this may seem like the answer, the bulk of my words a worthy enough explanation, but it’s not. For me, it is incomplete, still. Perhaps because, if I want to be especially cruel to myself and my memory, I know that I already missed out on my chance. I missed out on my chance two years ago when I fucked everything up. But like all things, I only realized it too late. Much too late, because, you see, he’s dead. How bittersweet can life get, when you see a picture, or remember? Countless times, I remember. I did tonight. I even wrote a poem about it. But, that wasn’t enough to stop me thinking. Damnation, why must I think so much?! All I want to do is sink into oblivion, sink into the nothingness and sleep. But my mind doesn’t listen to my heart. It never really has.

And that, my friends, is the actual answer.

If I had listened closely, if I hadn’t followed through on the wrong train of thought, if I hadn’t jumped to conclusions and just listened to the common sense my heart was hinting at, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Love was never about impulsive thoughts which inevitably lead to impulsive, foolish actions. It’s about impulsive emotions that inevitably lead you to the right person. It was never about what you didn’t want to do, didn’t want to happen, didn’t want to feel, but instead, all the things you never thought you could do or feel. Love is about uncovering that hidden part of yourself which you always wondered about. Love is finding the right kind of reality, and reconciling those two, separate points of perspective.

And if it isn’t, then what is the need to find it even about? Because clearly, I don’t understand anymore.

- - -

Ah, my heart grieves me tonight.

Such a yearning, such hopelessness at this pull from within.

I want to fall in love.

Is that so much to ask for?

Maybe it's just me.

Writers have the highest hopes of all.

Why?

Our imagination is indulged in ways other people's are not.

And because of this, it produces devastating results.

A poem . . . I think.

WITH ME

This is ridiculous, but

everytime he posts a song, just the lyrics,

he always gets my hopes up that, just this once,

he was able to dig deep enough, search long enough,

to find the words to tell me how he feels,

to be like the guy he needs to be, the guy I need him to be,

to write something just for me,

and make me fall in love with him.

And when it turns out I'm wrong, every time, just a song

it hurts, and it stings, and I wonder again:

Can he meet me halfway? Will he ever be here?

Will he care half-enough just to be?

I would like you to meet: Short Attention Span. The one, the - OH! Look at that . . . .

Favorite song for the briefest of moments?

I Wanna - The All-American Rejects

Why? I don't know. Maybe the fact that the lead singer's voice is so incredibly different from what it usually sounds like, lol. Ah, well. But his voice sounds so nice in this song. And the lyrics are pretty good, as well. He, however, doesn't look nearly so cool. *snorts inelegantly*

Anyway. Just got my final report card in the mail today, after over a week since graduation. Which isn't so long, but still - the waiting, the agonizing, the suspense, lol. And guess what?!! Yeah, I pulled off a 4.0 even in my last semester. *grins, coolly flares out collar* Even in math, which I was absolutely convinced was a hopeless case. Here I was, contentedly believing that I would have a, maybe, B, with something like an 81% in the works. But, nope, I had an A. What a freaking idiot that teacher must be, to give me such a grade. *winks*

Yes, I know, I'm being obnoxious. *chuckles to self* Still, you must give me some slack, for it is (checks clock) about ten after one in the morning. *sighs dejectedly* I really ought to get to bed.

Shit. I was also supposed to call L. tonight. *looks innocently around bedroom* Um, huh. *clicks tongue obnoxiously* I could call her now (at *checks clock again* about a quarter after 1 [midnight where she's at]), which isn't nearly so bad as her calling me at 1:30 last week, lol. Or, I could wait and call her tomorrow night. That is, if I remember. Or . . . not. *purses lips thoughtfully*

You know, I really am tired, and - *yawns loudly* - maybe she'll already be sleeping, or - shit, I should just admit it now, I only want to finish the short story I started earlier, before I got distracted by - OH!

I remember now. *sits up straight* I finally got the hypnotism in the mail, from the party graduation night. It was absolutely hilarious, I was laughing so hard in the beginning I was actually crying. The things that hypnotist made them do were just priceless. I was so excited, I had to show my mom all I could before she went and left to go see her boyfriend. *slumps*

Anyway. *winks*

I was a little disappointed at the recording of the hypnotism. The guy who did it didn't spare much money over it, I'll tell you what. Very poor quality. But oh well. It's better than nothing, in any case.

And . . . because it's getting late, I'm starting to feel like an odd little child with all of my ramblings, and mostly, because I am quite eager to finish my short story (if I can) I believe I will end this post.

A little humor, I hope it contained. *grins*

Night y'all.

. . . Though on second thought, this post was probably more on the side of incoherence. Lol. My apologies.

Randomosity in a nutshell, if that's even a word. ;)

This post will, I hope, be considerably shorter than the last few have been.

I suppose I just wanted to update.

I'm finally, actually, working on my book right now. I can't vouch for actual additions (in any supreme length) or extensive editing, but I've been doing little minor touches here and there. Not to mention the fact that I have got the next chapter (chapter 28, unbelievable as it is) all mapped out, I just need to figure out the logistics of it so I can write it out in full. I reached my 240 page marker today, which is thoroughly exciting.

I've also hit a bit of a dilemma. My antagonist comes down with some sort of fatal illness, one which I haven't quite figured out. It's very complicated to the plot-line, and exhausting doing the research on it to match things up, because it can't be highly contagious, or my protagonists will die as well. I've been doing some more research tonight, as I did some months ago when I hit this roadblock, but I still haven't really uncovered just the perfect disease. The time period (which the book is in) is appropriate enough for the Black Death, but - the symptoms for the least fatal version (ie. the only version of it not able to be passed human to human) doesn't have the symptoms I'm really looking for. I've almost decided it should just be some sort of pneumonia, but I can't really be satisfied with the fatality rate of it, or the rapidness of the illness itself.

Hm. Yeah, odd thing to be thinking of, no doubt. (grins)

I'm still debating what to do with my father. I've been talking to L. (my best friend) who's gone down to visit her mom for a week and half, and to see her new little half-brother. She's partly the reason I haven't gotten to bed before three in the morning for about a week. But, a lot of that is me, too. Lol.

Anyway, I haven't really got anything of substance to impart.

I finally picked up the book I need to study to get my driver's license. So, I should be able to get that out of the way by at least the end of the month. (winks) I honestly will get it done though, finally, I have full confidence in myself. (sticks tongue out at incredulous looks from imaginary audience) . . . .

Um. Yeah.

I'm rather enamored of peace sign necklaces. I've only just (finally - which seems to be my favorite word at the moment) bought my first one. I don't buy necklaces often, and I never seem to find any peace sign necklaces that I like. But, the above necklace is just something I found online. Isn't it awesome? (grins)

And this one, you have to look a little closer to see the charms on it, but, I think it's quite charming (if you'll excuse the pun). Lol.

And lastly:

Though mine is only on a little silver chain. Oh well. Life goes on. (winks)

Ta, then.

I'm not cruel - just lost in my own world. Judge accordingly.

I feel like I have been very neglectful and careless of this blog lately. I think it is because I am having a hard enough time sorting through things on my own to want to concentrate long enough to organize it all into a post. It's too much for twenty minutes of my time. Far too much.

My stepdad has finally left today. I applied for a job, scheduled an interview for today, but I didn't go. Also, M. finally asked me out (I don't remember whether I said that or not), and we went to lunch today, and though he did better than the first date we had two and half years ago, he still wasn't nearly the best sort of lunch companion. He talked all throughout the affair, and I didn't really get to say anything. He didn't talk about anything important whatsoever, or interesting. All I could think was that U. actually talks to me. He actually asks how I am, and seems interested, and listens. U. actually invites conversation, a back and forth sort of thing, with two participants. And then I go and think, well, that doesn't make much difference if I'm not attracted to either of them. And then, U. goes to boot camp in mid-July. And, a lot of people thought M. was gay. And sometimes, he kind of acts like he is. My mind is a little maze of pretzels and false lights and, what are those called, those illusions you see in the middle of a desert that aren't really there? I don't know. I don't understand myself. At all. I hate it, but that's it.

And then I think, this is my fault. I started this. I wouldn't be in this situation at all if I had never told M. that I like him. This would have never happened if I had remembered why I never continued trying to 'date' him two years ago. This would all be so much easier if I simply thought these things through, thoroughly, before I went and jumped off the deep end and assumed that I was head over heels for a guy that used to always annoy me, a guy who I feel a vague sense of pity for because he can't seem to understand the things he does wrong. A guy I never actually liked. Is that it?

Another case of "I like because I'm afraid I can't have." I only started to slowly 'like' him when I thought he didn't like me, right? I think that's what this is. A stupid, silly, jealous sort of possessiveness. It's ridiculous, it's selfish, it's horribly rude and cruel and mean. I don't like people who do this, I hate people who do this. And I went and did it myself. But we only see these things in retrospect, don't we?

What did I write in my notebook the day I "realized" he wouldn't make a move and ask me out? I think it was the last day of school, the day I decided "what the hell?" and went out with U. and some other friends. I took a bloody chance, and gave U. the impression that I like him. And maybe I did that night, under the damn stars. Maybe I did. I don't know. But I do know that intimacy scares me, makes me awkward, I tend to avoid it. And on a regular day, it's really bloody rare if I ever touch someone, on the hand, shoulder, hug, whatever. I never have actual human contact. Is that sad? Perhaps I shy away from it. I've often thought (and wondered), babies can't live without physical contact, so how do we, in this world? How do we?

I don't know. I like hugs, though. And when I hug a guy, I usually, really want a damn hug. But whenever I hugged M, he didn't have the right sense to it. Sure, it was long enough, but it wasn't the kind that gave me a sense of being held like I often want out of a hug. And U. He gives just the right kind of hug, but his, so far, have never, ever been long enough. He doesn't hold on long enough, not enough to make me feel better.

Anyway, in my notebook (and this will be long, I'm sorry), I wrote: (and here's me trying to work things out, all in this itty bitty, teeny tiny post (ironic, I know). So, sorry if it isn't organized, or if it's repetitive, I guess I'm trying to utilize what I've got to sort of understand what the hell is going on in my shadowed, complicated fucking head.)

-------
(5/29/09)
It's happened before, and everyone knows of it. Therefore, it would be irrelevant for me to ask you: Is it possible to fall for the wrong guy? Unrequited anything, yes it does exist. And it seems that is what I have done. Or, in a way, fallen too late. I've crashed to the ground. I forgot to check behind me first.

Oh well.

At least, with today being the last day of school (ever), I can hide. I can practice my expression of happiness, carefree and unaffected.

All I wanted was a hug, all I was was avoided. A single word, even if in the negative, would have been far better than this limbo, this wondering if he even read the letter or not.

Either way, he's too passive. So perhaps it's a good thing that nothing happened. I won't have to worry about being in a relationship where I might (potentially) be the only one who makes a move, the one who puts myself (my heart) on the line, and has to wait for him, wait and see - will he, or will he not? It would not be a very satisfactory relationship, that is for sure.

Nevertheless, it still hurts a little. He wanted a hug from one of my friends (while we were in the last period of our last day of school), all he wanted from me was a picture. But at least I feel numb, and not devastated. I decided to walk home rather than impose on anyone else's time today. I already felt like I was intruding everywhere. In the end, all I wanted to do, all I still want to do, is isolate myself. Go in the corner, and abandon them before they abandon me, before I can have the chance to feel resentful of their lack of attention.

-------
And just an ending note, I never got the time to hide. My stepdad lingered, and I never got any rest, and I never got a break from everyone else. My walk home was relaxing (if hot) and I got to feel a small sense of peace within myself. But - I never got the chance to hide. And I still have the guilty feeling that I've abandoned my health, I haven't exercised in at least a week or more, and that makes me feel even more awful and terrible. That last week of May feels a year ago, it seems like a whole other section of my life. And, though M. wrote to me (when he told me he still liked me) he said "I have never stopped falling for you. I have always cared for you" well, he doesn't convince me in the way he acts.

Sadly enough, the old saying is true, 'the actions make the man.' They also convince, and persuade, and reveal the actual truth. Shy or not, he honestly doesn't seem to act (in my eyes) like he likes me. He doesn't persuade me to believe it. He never shows any actual interest in me, in how I'm doing. A little bit over an email (that he likes me, not concern or interest in me as a person), maybe, but I'm just an idea to him, I think. And if he's gay (and I don't go around - ever - saying a guy is gay, this would be the first and only time I've ever actually done this), well, if he is gay, then I'm just the 'crush' he's hanging onto to convince himself he's straight, I'm the age-old idea, the one-time "I like you so much", that he can't let go of, for his own safety and peace of mind. And he simply doesn't want to be persecuted in his own mind, to believe he might have to restructure his entire process of thinking. IF that were true, would it explain why he's so uncomfortable around one of our friends (who is gay), would it explain his vague homophobia? Now I'm going overboard. I'm just saying, I don't think he likes me, I just think he thinks he likes me, if that makes any sense.

So I'll repeat my title. I'm not cruel, just lost in my own mind, my own world, and trying to make sense of it so I can get out alive. So, please, judge accordingly. I never mean to be mean, or selfish, or ambiguous, or confusing, or wavery and indecisive and so typically "woman" (as men seem to see it). I don't mean to be downright unintelligible or indescribably impossible to understand. I just can't figure anything out, I'm so goddamn lost. This shit is too confusing for me, and I don't exactly know anyone well enough, close enough, to spill this all onto. To get advice, to ask for help, to see if someone else can understand me (when I honestly can't). If I ever did, I'd be worried about their reaction, and absolutely guilty for performing what I like to call "word vomit" on an innocent passerby. If you've read all of this, an astounding feat I cannot begin to comprehend, then I'm, well, astounded, curious at your taste in reading, and slightly comforted that someone might read this (though entirely clueless as to your comprehension of what I've written, or your ending interest, or your opinion of me now). Wow, I write a lot. But, even though I have no clue who you are, or where you are, or what you're thinking, I'm still afraid that you might judge me unfavorably. That I might come out of this dissection in a harsh light, in a worse way. I don't want your bad opinion, and I don't even know who you are. That, too, is sad.

(sighs)

Another note, in my notebook, I wrote a while ago in response to some guy's statement of girls, and how they don't want to be figured out. Well, I wrote:

Correction - They don't like to feel vulnerable, and when their emotions are on display, they do. Men are pre-programmed, it seems, to not know (entirely) what to do in the face of emotion - real, devastating, heart-stopping, can't-go-on emotion. Men have that reputation of feeling lost or awkward, they fumble their way through anything. And the less careful they are, the more we're bound to get hurt. So for the sake of safety, usually where our hearts are concerned, we hide our emotions. We hide them, and hope some guy is sensitive enough to see them himself, for what they are, and handle with care, appropriately.

(deep sigh)

Any girl worth a guy's time simply wants to be understood. And usually, they don't even know what they're feeling themselves. Right? Or have I only generalized my gender based on my opinion? Who knows. Whatever.

Anyway. I think I've had enough thinking for the night. My head is hurting, looks like a headache. Time for what many like to call "responsibility." I think. Or maybe it's simply time to go to bed. To try to sleep. To try to stop thinking, and stop analyzing, and stop worrying and sinking myself in anxiety. The future is ambiguous, and completely indefinite. I cannot divine it, I know I should stop trying. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if I can. Well, instead of finishing this post, then, here's a poem I wrote yesterday, a poem that lay nebulously within my mind for about a week, ever since graduation. An action I truly performed is its subject . . . or actions. Nevertheless, I should get on with it, oughtn't I?

AN INTERVIEW
I compromised, in all the nagging,
(License, job, responsibility,
And that aching need to leave)
Got me a job, went to the DMV
Planned an interview with life.
What a rotten way to waste the sun
Summer's freedom spent in chains.
Compromise - such an evil thing
For a moment's peace of mind.
I just wanted to get away from here
I looked up tickets, ways to go
It was pricey, though, no matter what I did
Life abroad seemed a distant dream.
Responsibility is too harsh a fate
For dreamers just like me.
But without a job, how am I to pay
For the freedom to be free?

Anyway, I don't remember the day, it may have only been a couple of days ago, but I got online, determinedly, and looked up ways I might get out of this country (at least for the summer). I looked up internships, study abroad opportunities, ticket prices, trip prices, ways to get a passport, where to go, what would be best, how I might get into the Peace Corps (and where I might go). Who I might stay with, what countries looked most appealing, or were cheaper, to get to and stay at for a while. Some of the time, I was too young to even think about doing what I wanted to. It went on and on, for over an hour, two maybe. I looked up everything I could think of, and even just random search words. I think I even looked at the navy, at joining the military and getting shipped off to boot camp. What I could do there, how I might escape this disgusting situation I've created for myself. I couldn't see anything feasible at such short notice. I didn't have the money, I didn't have a passport, I didn't have the goddamn time. Everything is too far away, and too impossible to bring about for a person in my situation. I don't have any money, I'm too young, I'm too . . . female, I suppose you could say. It isn't safe for me to just set off cross country with less than a hundred dollars in my pocket, and no destination in mind. It just isn't feasible. I don't have connections, I don't know anyone, I can't do it. It makes me feel helpless, and makes me a little angry at myself, a useless sort of anger, that frustrated, can't do anything about, futile kind of anger.

So, instead, I'm stuck here. I'm stuck in this life, and this world, and this place. And I can't get out of it. At least, not responsibly. Ugh. I hate that, I hate that word and every single thing that it implies. It's rotten and ugly and disgusting and kills people's ambition countless times every day. Am I simply complaining? I don't know anymore. I don't know. I never did. I pretended, but I honestly don't. I wonder if I ever will?

And then I wonder, will I ever have the chance to meet the guy I've been pining for since before I even knew I wasn't complete without him? Will I meet someone in college that will make me wonder how I ever functioned without him? Will life provide the opportunity? Or will I walk around, still wondering, still confused, still looking for that perfect hug, that perfect lunch date, the right sort of concern and attention and conversation coupled with a face (vain and shallow as that sounds, life is that way) I can live with? Will I have to wonder forever?

Again, unanswerable. Only the future will know, and no one can interpret it's movements. Ambiguous and full of nothing but questions, opportunity, and even, well, hope. I'll have to wait for any of my questions to be answered. I can't learn without time, experience, and whatever else goes in the mixture.

In the meantime, I have to figure if I will go out with M. again, if I even want to. I have to see if maybe he needs time to familiarize. I have to see if time will make him something I might have patience with and (awful enough as it is) respect for. Time enough, and we'll see if I ever want to give him a chance. There is also the issue of U. But, again, I'm chin deep in shit, and still lying through my teeth, if I think I won't fuck that up too. Oh well.

So, I guess I'm done for the night. I think. (scoffs) Yes, I think. I fucking think too much, and will continue to think, right on into the whole phase of my "not thinking" while I try to sleep, while I try to function well enough to get on with things as they stand. (rolls eyes) And I will continue thinking right on until I go and make another impulsive, unwise move that serves for, and pretends to be, thinking.

This is seriously way too long of a post. I think that it probably contains about a month's thinking. Or is that just a week? I get confused so often . . . (winks) It also probably took you forever to read, or will, if you never read it, but skipped forward, which I wouldn't blame you for. (deep, long sigh) I'm amazed that my hands don't hurt. My wrist isn't aching at all. My knee hurts though. Well. Yeah.

If there is anything I haven't covered, or finished, or resolved the story of, I apologize. But, I'm too tired and annoyed with my excess rambling to want to read back over this whole post and fix anything. Verbose. Ha. Excessive.

Oh, one last thing, my father wrote to me, right? Two months to respond to my letter. I still haven't responded to his. I don't know how. I keep saying that I've completely forgot about it, but what if I'm avoiding it? I don't know how to deal with him. Conflicted. Yeah. Me? All the time.

So - Peace. Love. Contentment. Understanding.

Or rather: LIFE - and everything I seek. (rueful smile)

Ta. . . . oh, and rest your eyes. I know I need to. It's that pointy, needle-like feeling that is stabbing at my temple again. The one I try to duck and dodge from for no reason other than instinct. Obviously, you can't move away from something that is inside of you. I seem to forget that time and again. (deep sigh) Okay. Good night. And thank you, for whatever you may have thought. If I could have heard it at the time that you thought it, I'm sure it would have helped in some way. If I could simply work up the effort to tell my best friend these things, perhaps at the end of it, I might have a hug, and not a headache.

But, all I have is the stabbing, the wondering, the ceaseless questions, and another night alone ahead of me. No pity. Maybe sympathy.

Reality has never been my favorite story.

Spin Control?

I feel like I'm losing control of my own life.

Graduation went great. I said my speech without a hitch, except for the very end (last 10 seconds or so), when I got a little hard to hear. I didn't trip, I didn't do anything stupid. But, all of my family left before the end of graduation, so I didn't get to see anyone except for my mom and sister, who were my ride home as it was.

M. and I, well, everything is relatively in the open, I guess. He likes me, I like him, but I'm afraid in this 'relationship' I'll be the only one who makes the first move. I haven't talked to him since the night of graduation. Oh well. Everyone in my family assumes he's my boyfriend, but I'm not entirely sure yet. I don't know.

The party the school held for graduation night was fun. I won some money, played some games, saw a hypnotism (which was hilarious). But I played some weird game and it game me a little whiplash. Thankfully, it isn't too serious a form of it, I didn't go to the doctor for it, and I'm hoping my neck will feel better soon enough (and not take six months to heal, like my sister's did).

I got sick on the night of my last day of school, last friday. So, I almost lost my voice for graduation. Thankfully, it came back in time. But, the next day, it was pretty much gone. I'm hoping I'll get over this cold soon. It's been almost a week, after all.

But, the main topic of concern for this post, is the fact that with my stepdad here, I'm not getting any exercise whatsoever. And I mean none. Not to mention, we keep eating out, and eating ice cream, and none of it is good for me. I've probably gained weight this week. It really pisses me off. Nobody in my family understands that I need to lose weight, and I can't if I don't eat healthy. Greasy pizza, ice cream, candy bars, steak, onion rings, bacon, etc. Not fucking good for me. I hate it.

My stepdad did fix my computer for me, though. So, now I have two computers. My big one, and my little one.

I'm supposed to do a bunch of stuff for college today. I hate it. I wish I could forget about it all. My mother never talked to me about this stuff, she never taught me this stuff. This is the first time I have ever seen this shit before. I don't feel like I'm getting any help, I simply feel like they're telling me to do this, and that's it. Do it. Don't learn, don't know, just do. It fucking pisses me off.

I feel like I haven't gotten a break since the last day of school. I've been sick, I'm tired, I'm sore, and I haven't gotten any rest whatsoever. It's aggravating. It's frustrating. I feel lost, and nothing more. I don't feel like I can do this, I don't feel confident, I don't feel competent. I feel like a child.

And M. is pissing me off because he isn't doing anything. And U. is trying to hover over my shoulder throughout this all. He keeps texting me in the morning, and texting me at night, and I'm getting annoyed with it. And M. isn't talking to me. Oh, he's happy, on Facebook this is simply "complicated," and in person, NO FUCKING CONVERSATION. No feedback. Nothing. I mean, I can understand if he's shy, if he doesn't know what to do. But this is getting ridiculous. No, correction, this is ridiculous. He doesn't talk to me about what's going on. I can't have a relationship, if it isn't even defined in the first place. We aren't officially dating, and I don't even know if we ever will be.

I just want to give up. I really do. I got through graduation. I gave my speech. I got my diploma. I did everything I was expected to do. Now can I give up? Can I just stop? It's obvious that I'm not ready. It's obvious I don't know what to do, and that I probably never will. I'm not ready. I'm not. I'm petrified, and I'm angry. I'm sick and I'm tired.

I want to forget about college, I can't even see it happening. I want to forget about this pseudo-relationship, it isn't likely to go anywhere. I want to stay at home, and write. I want to forget it all.

Oh, and did I mention? On the last day of May, I got a letter from my father. That would be, what, two months that it took him to respond to my letter? Wow, I feel special.

And if the only thing life is going to do is shove things at me and expect me to untangle them, then I don't want to try. I would rather be a failure, then collapse under the strain, under the weight of everything I've never learned. I've been here before, I didn't like it. Where's my vacation? Where's my new beginning? I just feel like I'm being tossed in a tidal wave.

This isn't working out. It really isn't, anymore.