Every weekend I go home is like the last weekend I go home. Its like hitting yourself on the head with a hammer, saying "what the hell?!? That hurt!" and then convincing yourself it won't hurt next time, only to repeat the retarded pattern. Isn't that the definition of insanity; doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome? I think I am insane most of the time. For example, I heard a song by 3 Doors down in the mall the other day, and with an extraordinarily painful squeeze, my heart yelled "SEAN!!" all the way up to my brain. And now I've searched it, (the internet is the shiznit) and only slightly illegally downloaded the song from one of my fellow dorm-mates. Its now playing on repeat in my itunes, and I keep expecting not to think about Sean if I listen to it enough. But alas, stupid childish crushes continue to plague my happiness.
I miss the quiet contemplation that used to be my day. No noise but the whirring of poetic and fantastical thoughts creating themself outside my window, no matter what time of day. But now again I'm sucked down into the tragedy of friendship, that cruel torture that is closeness. All boundaries broken and still I feel no exhilaration, because it is forced, not easy anymore. All decisions, all manner of footsteps have to be performed around those people that depend on me, and I'm suddenly not allowed to stray on my own path, in pursuit of everything worth pursuing, but instead twisted by guilty conscience and guilty words to swerve around my own road, windshield wipers off and the music far too loud.
Is it human nature to take good and cast it aside, wanting so much better? These ideals are what crush me, and lead me to abandon lives and people, insisting at fate with a vengeance that, no, this cannot be my life, but some sort of greener pastures are just over the next week. I reach the blossomed tops of hills and turn around, looking for a more challenging mountain to climb. With love I am the worst sort of cantidate. The love I have now should suffice, but my soul aches for something else, something more pure, more satisfying, deeper somehow. He is amazing, and the sight of him makes the music in my head resound with less force, he calms my soul, but do I really want a man that doesn't fight his battles, puts mingling with middle schoolers (on some game that will not ever affect his life other than keeping him from living it) above paying attention to me, only wants to hang out with me "sometimes", and is completely tactless? Maybe it is the fact that I love him despite these shortcomings that makes it suffice. However countless better cantidates, both fictional and real, plague every feeling about him I have, convincing me it isn't enough. God im rambling.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Thursday, February 23, 2006
what is really going on?
I had to crawl over my roomate's boyfriend's lanky Abercrombied legs in the early AM only to forget that my cell phone was a few leaps away.
Of course it rang- some sort of tango i only use for people that are fun to talk to- and I crashed into the dorm issued desk with massive force to Brandon's chipper voice that wouldn't shut up about some online game. "That prat." was all that went through my head; I've been thinking in British lately. Unplugging my blue christmas lights proved so difficult I left them on, blinking annoyingly in the dark. Dark to me, because i'm hopeless in anything but sunlight- a total idiot.
By the time I woke up my newly dyed hair still smelled dyed and it about turned me green. I raced to the Flintstones (those miracle candies that keep you blissfully thinking you're healthy) and pulled on clothes and thought "today might be a bad day." As predicted the neighbor of doom struck again and decided she was going to excersise her executive power over the weak minds of our dormmates and make me enemy target #1. Im pretty sure I pissed her off with apathy, but it could be something equally important like spending money on hand soap or toilet paper stealing (neither of which im guilty of). After weeks of cute girly babble and invitations to parties I was starting to feel included again, and my junior high acceptance light went off somewhere inside the grey matter. What was worse is i've concluded that she and the ex-best friend are conspiring to bring me down, if not break me of perpetual laid-backness and non-confrontationalness. They shall not succeed, but I don't think they know that yet. So the ex-best friend's stringy brown hair is always swishing into someone's room I thought knew better than to invite Satan into their residence. I suppose not.
It kind of sucks that they all hated her first, and I didn't, but now that I've pinpointed her killer instincts down to an alien science, and fled her scene, they all shrug and say she's not that bad. All I do is smile and call everyone "doll" or "hun" while shifting about in converse or some sort of new hat. Can hating me be that easy? I hope I don't have one of those "hateable" faces that sort of make you punchable to people you don't know. Never gotten that reaction, but Im still somewhat young.
Everything is brown now, including my hair and shoes. My toilet paper has been stolen, but there is nothing brown about that, for I've gone and stolen someone elses and affixed a neon sticky note to it, explaining that I'm too poor to keep overlooking stolen toilet paper. I'm finally adjusting to Maroon 5, but now i learn that Rob Thomas is going solo, which means more adjusting.
Lists, lists and more lists are eating up class time. I concentrate when Im not looking at a teacher. Looking at them only makes me wonder what the hell could make them want to be teachers, and whether they know that chin hairs the size of small children are poking people as they talk, and by then the subject matter is lost. Ironic that the only class I was meant to love is taught by a bimbo who talks about ballet and her fiance. She's in her 70s so fiance isn't that cute.
I'm tired of some people, including friends and boyfriends.
I just want to be alone, but being alone makes other people moody. I swear around 40 hours of alone-ness will leave me stable for the next month or so of bone-crushing stalkery hanging out. Can't wait till summer but then again it means leaving here, so whatever is making me want it must be crazy. At least I won't have to stumble over someone elses boyfriend at 2 in the morning, unless I invite him over.
Of course it rang- some sort of tango i only use for people that are fun to talk to- and I crashed into the dorm issued desk with massive force to Brandon's chipper voice that wouldn't shut up about some online game. "That prat." was all that went through my head; I've been thinking in British lately. Unplugging my blue christmas lights proved so difficult I left them on, blinking annoyingly in the dark. Dark to me, because i'm hopeless in anything but sunlight- a total idiot.
By the time I woke up my newly dyed hair still smelled dyed and it about turned me green. I raced to the Flintstones (those miracle candies that keep you blissfully thinking you're healthy) and pulled on clothes and thought "today might be a bad day." As predicted the neighbor of doom struck again and decided she was going to excersise her executive power over the weak minds of our dormmates and make me enemy target #1. Im pretty sure I pissed her off with apathy, but it could be something equally important like spending money on hand soap or toilet paper stealing (neither of which im guilty of). After weeks of cute girly babble and invitations to parties I was starting to feel included again, and my junior high acceptance light went off somewhere inside the grey matter. What was worse is i've concluded that she and the ex-best friend are conspiring to bring me down, if not break me of perpetual laid-backness and non-confrontationalness. They shall not succeed, but I don't think they know that yet. So the ex-best friend's stringy brown hair is always swishing into someone's room I thought knew better than to invite Satan into their residence. I suppose not.
It kind of sucks that they all hated her first, and I didn't, but now that I've pinpointed her killer instincts down to an alien science, and fled her scene, they all shrug and say she's not that bad. All I do is smile and call everyone "doll" or "hun" while shifting about in converse or some sort of new hat. Can hating me be that easy? I hope I don't have one of those "hateable" faces that sort of make you punchable to people you don't know. Never gotten that reaction, but Im still somewhat young.
Everything is brown now, including my hair and shoes. My toilet paper has been stolen, but there is nothing brown about that, for I've gone and stolen someone elses and affixed a neon sticky note to it, explaining that I'm too poor to keep overlooking stolen toilet paper. I'm finally adjusting to Maroon 5, but now i learn that Rob Thomas is going solo, which means more adjusting.
Lists, lists and more lists are eating up class time. I concentrate when Im not looking at a teacher. Looking at them only makes me wonder what the hell could make them want to be teachers, and whether they know that chin hairs the size of small children are poking people as they talk, and by then the subject matter is lost. Ironic that the only class I was meant to love is taught by a bimbo who talks about ballet and her fiance. She's in her 70s so fiance isn't that cute.
I'm tired of some people, including friends and boyfriends.
I just want to be alone, but being alone makes other people moody. I swear around 40 hours of alone-ness will leave me stable for the next month or so of bone-crushing stalkery hanging out. Can't wait till summer but then again it means leaving here, so whatever is making me want it must be crazy. At least I won't have to stumble over someone elses boyfriend at 2 in the morning, unless I invite him over.
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