Despite my innate need to analyze and hypothesize, what I really need is something I can't articulate. Its nonverbal: I need love. The sort of thing where my mind will shut off and my heart will take over, if you will. Something that I can feel, not describe.
What I do feel is the scariness of my potential. I feel the warmth of my friends, but I don't deserve it. I feel the sincerity of my anonymous formspring posts, telling me that I'm genuinely a good person, but I fear that those people are misled. I feel wasted. I know that I got a 4.0 last semester, and that I have a high vocabulary, and I can write well, but I don't feel smart. Here I am, not at school but alternatively reading while drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. It's not that I'm not sick, I'm just tired and don't feel like it. Like so many other days.
It scares me. I look around my room- and see tons of books, and trash, and dirty dishes, and so many clothes on my floor that you can't even see my carpet- and all I want is out of this mess. I don't know how I got to this point. I wonder where I went.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Bumper Sticker
I saw a bumper sticker on a car today that read "If you're not angry, you're not paying attention". We'd probably all be better off if we weren't paying attention. Centuries of bumper stickers have enriched our lives, and now we cannot go day to day without noticing the tailgaiting jerk behind us, the woman screeching into her cell phone, or the waiter who thinks he's Gods gift. After all, in the words of Thomas Gray, "Ignorance is bliss".
But for better or for worse, we no longer have the gift of oblivion. So many inconsequential details have made their way into our lives, and it's incredibly difficult to ignore. We pay attention, and the result is misanthropy ranging from the vague to the acute. We seem to take delight in comparing our irritations with others- take the blogging movement, for example.
This annoyance, however, isn't particularly good for us. Researchers have said that physiologically speaking, anger has many different effects on our body. But moreover, it appears to be something we crave- as much as sex, as much as food, as much as drugs. Aggression engages the brain's reward pathways and involves dopamine.
I don't understand why we act the way we do. But maybe it'd be easier to accept it that way.
But for better or for worse, we no longer have the gift of oblivion. So many inconsequential details have made their way into our lives, and it's incredibly difficult to ignore. We pay attention, and the result is misanthropy ranging from the vague to the acute. We seem to take delight in comparing our irritations with others- take the blogging movement, for example.
This annoyance, however, isn't particularly good for us. Researchers have said that physiologically speaking, anger has many different effects on our body. But moreover, it appears to be something we crave- as much as sex, as much as food, as much as drugs. Aggression engages the brain's reward pathways and involves dopamine.
I don't understand why we act the way we do. But maybe it'd be easier to accept it that way.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
in hope of relating to someone
Why is is that I always blog when I'm sad?
Today started off to be such a good day. I specifically wrote Chelsea a rather cute note telling her so admist my glee. But then if my day hadn't already taken a turn for the worse- which it did- I got an oh-so pleasant surprise from you just to put the cherry on top of things. That's fucking stellar.
I guess the most devastating thing is that you can still make me cry. I'm so mad at myself for giving you that power. I know that it's something you are always going to hold over me, and it makes me cry all over again. You know how to get to me, and you use that against me. What's worse is that it hurts so much more coming from you.
Furthermore, it's so frustrating that you can't just be mature. I know you're still at the phase when you slap high fives with each clever insult you come up with. I know so because that used to be you and me when you would get in fights with your exgirlfriend. A token of your alleged affection, perhaps. But I've grown up. I really, really have. You don't know the person I am today. I wouldn't believe me either if I we're you; I know we had that conversation a gazillion times. But clearly it speaks for itself when you have an attitude, and you put up this entire wall as a defense mechanism, and you text me accusing me of things that aren't true... yet I reply back to you calmly and rationally, despite the tears streaming down my face, and tell you to have a good day at the end. Why does it always have to be an argument with you?
If I realized anything today, it's that I know what it's like to feel alone. And that is why I stay alone, because I never want to feel alone again.
Time to go smoke weed.
Today started off to be such a good day. I specifically wrote Chelsea a rather cute note telling her so admist my glee. But then if my day hadn't already taken a turn for the worse- which it did- I got an oh-so pleasant surprise from you just to put the cherry on top of things. That's fucking stellar.
I guess the most devastating thing is that you can still make me cry. I'm so mad at myself for giving you that power. I know that it's something you are always going to hold over me, and it makes me cry all over again. You know how to get to me, and you use that against me. What's worse is that it hurts so much more coming from you.
Furthermore, it's so frustrating that you can't just be mature. I know you're still at the phase when you slap high fives with each clever insult you come up with. I know so because that used to be you and me when you would get in fights with your exgirlfriend. A token of your alleged affection, perhaps. But I've grown up. I really, really have. You don't know the person I am today. I wouldn't believe me either if I we're you; I know we had that conversation a gazillion times. But clearly it speaks for itself when you have an attitude, and you put up this entire wall as a defense mechanism, and you text me accusing me of things that aren't true... yet I reply back to you calmly and rationally, despite the tears streaming down my face, and tell you to have a good day at the end. Why does it always have to be an argument with you?
If I realized anything today, it's that I know what it's like to feel alone. And that is why I stay alone, because I never want to feel alone again.
Time to go smoke weed.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Reborn.
This weekend will never be forgotten. But literally. I got a tattoo. But more importantly I feel reborn. My entire outlook on life has changed and I feel like a completely new person. I'm so fucking fortunate to have the friends that I do. We're all products of our environment, whether you want to attest to it or not. For example, the mannerisms in which you are taught growing up in your household environment effect the person you are equally as much as the energy surrounding you in your social environment. Not necessarily in the matter of appearance or interest, but certainly in the state of mind. You want to be with people who will make you thrive, not force their views upon you. Someone to make you think, to stimulate your mind to new ideas, and to challenge the orthodox stances.
I can't describe it to you. The idea, sure. But not the realization. The most remarkable part about allowing your mind to encroach beyond your safe, gyrating thoughts is the physiological element associated with it. For me at least, something will hit me, and this constant surge of euphoria will radiate throughout my body. Its like you can physically feel your mind open up and your thoughts flow freely. Its like all of your emotions are vehemently and cohesively in sync. But what I realized is how free spirited I want to be. I want to be able to do whatever the hell I want without giving two shits about what anyone thinks of it. I want to live my life thoroughly and to the utmost extremity- within reason- because I never want to look back and think "wow I wish I would have enjoyed more".
So I got a tattoo. Because that's what I want. When I'm older, I want to have a tattoo that I regret. Because that just goes to show how you lived your life for yourself. What's important is the memory of how badly you wanted it, and you got it, and how happy you were when you did. I have my memory with me forever now. So many things worked out so perfectly, from timing to songs on the radio, that I just knew it was meant to be. It's a sparrow. This goes to show the free spirted nature I hope stays with me. Birds are beautiful, and they can fly away, and they are free.
I think its so crazy how everything comes around full circle. I'm so happy right now and I can genuinely tell you that for the first time in what seems like forever I love my life. And I love my friends. God, what would I do without them. So many things this weekend... a perfect memory to look back on forever and ever and ever.
I can't describe it to you. The idea, sure. But not the realization. The most remarkable part about allowing your mind to encroach beyond your safe, gyrating thoughts is the physiological element associated with it. For me at least, something will hit me, and this constant surge of euphoria will radiate throughout my body. Its like you can physically feel your mind open up and your thoughts flow freely. Its like all of your emotions are vehemently and cohesively in sync. But what I realized is how free spirited I want to be. I want to be able to do whatever the hell I want without giving two shits about what anyone thinks of it. I want to live my life thoroughly and to the utmost extremity- within reason- because I never want to look back and think "wow I wish I would have enjoyed more".
So I got a tattoo. Because that's what I want. When I'm older, I want to have a tattoo that I regret. Because that just goes to show how you lived your life for yourself. What's important is the memory of how badly you wanted it, and you got it, and how happy you were when you did. I have my memory with me forever now. So many things worked out so perfectly, from timing to songs on the radio, that I just knew it was meant to be. It's a sparrow. This goes to show the free spirted nature I hope stays with me. Birds are beautiful, and they can fly away, and they are free.
I think its so crazy how everything comes around full circle. I'm so happy right now and I can genuinely tell you that for the first time in what seems like forever I love my life. And I love my friends. God, what would I do without them. So many things this weekend... a perfect memory to look back on forever and ever and ever.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
tonight I'm not here
to fill your mind with bullshit. I'm not going to ellaborate on some awe-inspiring quote I heard way's back to sounds really insightful and optimisitc. No, I'm going to be blunt with you. And tell you that my life is spiralling down the drain. Or what's left of it at least.
Don't be mislead, now. I don't feel sorry for myself. I'm not trying to evoke any sympathy from you, anonymous blog reader, either. Sometimes it just feels nice to get it all out there. Especially tonight.
You said you didn't need this sort of thing.
Yeah, I don't blame you. I know I'm annoying. I know nobody wants to befriend or date the one with baggage. Well that aside even, I don't know who would want to be around me period. I wouldn't want to meet me if I saw me at a party, I wouldn't want me to join the circle of desks to work on homework, I wouldn't want to date me. I know I'm a "burden".
You said you can't be my friend anymore.
Yeah, I don't blame you either. This isn't a very fair ultimatum though. How can I put up a defense for the special relationship that we have if I don't even want to be friends with myself? This isn't the way for to get me to stop.
But on tonight, the night I'm not here, the night that I don't exist in anyone's eyes, is really the night that I'm more present than any other. Because I sat there. My resources all used up. The closest people to me shut off. My life lines already called. And I made myself feel all of it. All the pain. A sick, sadistic punishment. I didn't get the luxury of getting numb, of getting high.
So there.
Don't be mislead, now. I don't feel sorry for myself. I'm not trying to evoke any sympathy from you, anonymous blog reader, either. Sometimes it just feels nice to get it all out there. Especially tonight.
You said you didn't need this sort of thing.
Yeah, I don't blame you. I know I'm annoying. I know nobody wants to befriend or date the one with baggage. Well that aside even, I don't know who would want to be around me period. I wouldn't want to meet me if I saw me at a party, I wouldn't want me to join the circle of desks to work on homework, I wouldn't want to date me. I know I'm a "burden".
You said you can't be my friend anymore.
Yeah, I don't blame you either. This isn't a very fair ultimatum though. How can I put up a defense for the special relationship that we have if I don't even want to be friends with myself? This isn't the way for to get me to stop.
But on tonight, the night I'm not here, the night that I don't exist in anyone's eyes, is really the night that I'm more present than any other. Because I sat there. My resources all used up. The closest people to me shut off. My life lines already called. And I made myself feel all of it. All the pain. A sick, sadistic punishment. I didn't get the luxury of getting numb, of getting high.
So there.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
You
It slowly became more apparent to me. The nervousness, the tightness in chest. The glee, the anticipation. Gradually, it turned into pacing the room at the mention of your name. Its obvious that you're different. I realize that now and it scares me. You're like a drug to me. The things I would do for you. The withdrawals I go through. I long for you. I smell your scent on me the rest of the day. It's not the reputation you uphold that makes my palms sweaty- I think that exceeds you by far, anyway. The thing is that you get to me. More so, and in a different way, than everyone else. Physically and emotionally; thoroughly, all the way to my core. You make me hurt in an exquisite way. Everything inside me melts and I feel alive, happy and alive. The way you talk, the sports you play, the watch you wear, the car you drive, the friends you have, the stories you tell, the compliments you give, the way you look at me when I lay with you... the sensory overload is too much and entirely overwhelming.
You scare me. This feeling scares me. Nothing will ever happen. You're too good for me and I know that, everyone knows that. I've always had a crush on you- a "dig", as you like to say. But it's all so tangible now. Remarkably and painstakingly close; you're within my grasp. Real. I can reach out, and touch you, and there you are.
You just called me. I was sleeping and you woke me up. Something about your voice is so soothing... every part of my body relaxes. You ask if you can see me this weekend, you'll be in town. Time after time, you continue to assuage me of my fears. The grin on my face, if you only knew. I think you do know now. You're friends must have told you we talked about you this weekend. I wish I could tell you it was something stupid that slipped when I was drunk, but that would be a lie. It was strategic almost, I went into the night hoping that you would get brought up. I wanted to know your feelings about it.
I always want to talk about you. I want everyone to know the way I feel about you. I want everyone to know about you. I want you to know about you. And it hurts so bad because I am confident in the fact that that will never happen. But I feel almost fortunate for the pain associated with that realization. I would never feel anything that bad without having felt something so good. I've never wanted anything so badly in my life. Like I said, you make me feel alive.
You scare me. This feeling scares me. Nothing will ever happen. You're too good for me and I know that, everyone knows that. I've always had a crush on you- a "dig", as you like to say. But it's all so tangible now. Remarkably and painstakingly close; you're within my grasp. Real. I can reach out, and touch you, and there you are.
You just called me. I was sleeping and you woke me up. Something about your voice is so soothing... every part of my body relaxes. You ask if you can see me this weekend, you'll be in town. Time after time, you continue to assuage me of my fears. The grin on my face, if you only knew. I think you do know now. You're friends must have told you we talked about you this weekend. I wish I could tell you it was something stupid that slipped when I was drunk, but that would be a lie. It was strategic almost, I went into the night hoping that you would get brought up. I wanted to know your feelings about it.
I always want to talk about you. I want everyone to know the way I feel about you. I want everyone to know about you. I want you to know about you. And it hurts so bad because I am confident in the fact that that will never happen. But I feel almost fortunate for the pain associated with that realization. I would never feel anything that bad without having felt something so good. I've never wanted anything so badly in my life. Like I said, you make me feel alive.
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