People throw rocks at things that shine

Didn't think I'd make it, didja?

Six posts in one month, and subsequently, the last one of 2011.

I almost wrote 2001. That's silly.

Well, let me reflect on 2011. It was up, it was down. I was broken, I was strong. I cried, I laughed. I played games, I got back into writing. I worked my ass off and got a promotion. I got new friends and realized my old ones aren't going any-dang-where.

I really don't have a whole lot to say about it. It was a shitty year with some bright spots. I learned some stuff about myself, which is always a good thing when you're as batshit crazy as I am. I know what kind of people I want in my life, and I think, for once, the people I text and talk to daily are with my time. It's kind of nice to have friends who are human beings and not pieces of shit. Not that that's been a HUGE problem for awhile. It's just nice. I know who's there for me when I need them, and without them, I don't know what I'd do. So here's to you, Blog, for being one of those friends that's always there whether for a late night, emo-porch time session or a good old fashioned drinking night. Cheers to us. Cheers to my other friends that follow in your footsteps and continue to be great people and friends.

I hope that 2012 will be a bit better. I hope, for you too Blog, 2012 is fantastic. I don't really do resolutions, but if I did, it'd be to be great. I know it's lame but it's true. I want to have a good year, which I think means to keep doing what I've been doing for the last month or so. It's been alright I think.

Have a safe night, blog. Have a good night. Have a new years not in Mexico, which is kind of weird and something I just realized. Huh.

Anyway. I'm sure we'll be in touch sooner rather than later. Right now, I have to finish getting ready to celebrate someone's birthday.
[boom]

Five time, five time, five time, five time, five time

Alright. Tied the record with five. Can we make it six blags in a month? Time is wearing thin. The pressure is on!

There's just too much pressure. I'm nervous.

That's the second time I've used that lyric in the last two days. I really need to knock that shit off.

Anyway.

I learned something this weekend. Well, wait. Okay. I RElearned something and it isn't the weekend. I guess I just assume that when I get to leave down and see my best friend and some other cool people that it's the weekend. I think it's illegal to enjoy myself that much during the week. I think that's why I have a hard time realizing tomorrow is Christmas Eve. You know, SATURDAY the 24th. I keep thinking it's like, Monday tomorrow. I almost forgot I work.

Anyway. I should explain. Because I didn't last night. After leaving Josh and Kristin's, my stomach was in my throat. Like, I seriously felt like puking. Was it the food? No. No it wasn't. But Alyssa called me and I told her I was nervous (hence the terrible song lyrics). Why? Because I am ALWAYS nervous in that particular situation.

Why? Why in God's name am I nervous when I'm going to see someone I should have zero nerves about? The ONE person in the entire fucking world that can see through ALL of my bullshit. The one person that I've never hidden anything from. Ever. (Except that hooker in the trunk.)

Why? It doesn't make sense. And then it did. Again. Probably. I'm sure I've learned this before.

I think I get scared that like, things will be different. Like, what if I get there/she gets here and she's like "meh, hey. Whatever. Go die."

I would be sad. Like... more sad than I've ever been. But like, that's not the case. That's never been the case. Ever. Like, jesus. How blind can I be? Each and every time I'm nervous and each and every time those nerves melt away before greetings are even uttered. I think it's just the anticipation. And then... well, as Vinyl would probably say, she saw her favorite lavender eyes.

Though, I think if I saw someone with lavender eyes, I would call bullshit. Or meth. Either is plausible. But I think, either way, it's a viable comparison.

That Vinyl Scratch. She's so fucking cool. I guess Octavia is alright too.

Anyway. I got side tracked with ponies. Go figure.

Long story short, I have tried to distract myself when going on such journeys to the land of the southern Wisconsin. It's a lot worse when I'm going down there. At least when it's reversed it's like "OH GOD A CAR DOOR SHE'S HERE OH GOD OH GOD Oh- Hey, what's up?". When I go down there (giggity. Sorry, had to be done) I get off the interstate and start fucking hyperventilating.

I think that I might FINALLY be able to get over that. Everything is always the same. I mean, it's been since... August? And nothing has changed. We haven't missed a beat. From the serious talks to the fist fights and wrestling matches, it's all the same. It's nice. It's awesome. It's all I can ask for, really. Well, aside from asking someone to shorten the distance between Darien and Stevens Point. I think I should just buy a huge fucking house and make all of my favorite people live in it. It would be... interesting. And full of booze. And bruises. (Because my shoulder STILL hurts. There's going to be payback for this, and you can run and tell THAT. Homeboy.)

Also, I wish I had time to make a better video than I did. Next time gadget, next time.

Or now? The world will never know. I wonder, though, if there's anything that I could do that would please you, Blog. Like... are you indifferent (you are) or is there something that you would like to see? Like, a live reading or... watching the creative process, or a movie of... dogs. Or like, do a question and answer? With.. myself? I don't bloody know. I'll think about it.

Anyway. I'm going to TRY to go to bed as I work early tomorrow.
[boom]

It's not Christmas til it snows.

My record is five blags in a month. Think I can beat that?

Yeah, me either.

But BLAM. Here's another.

My feet are bloody cold. I will not concede that it's December. It's 40 and there is no snow. I call shenanigans. Why does Arizona get it? Fucking, desert is getting snow. Not New York. Not Illinois. Not Minnesota. Not Michigan. Not fucking Wisconsin. This is bullshit.

I need to finish someone's christmas present. And then I need to see if I can get to the southern half of the state to see some cool homies this week. (AKA Thursday night/Friday)

You see, Blog, when lots of my friends (see also: three) live in far, far away land, I have to make time and make schedules work and it's not always easy when all I want is my friggen prime rib from outback but SOMEONE has to have a really bloody difficult work schedule. #firstworldproblems

Seriously though. This is some bullshit. Again.

I'll figure it out. Just gotta do some foot work... er, text work, tomorrow. If only I didn't work.

I hate my job.

I think I've decided I don't want to be in charge of the kitchen. If it's taken me this long to decide, if I'm flip flopping back and fourth every day as to whether or not I even want to KEEP the job... maybe I should just stay where I'm at and wait. Sure, I could do a good job, but ultimately, it's not worth my sanity and stress levels. Also, my liver. My job makes me drink.

Why in the name of fuck am I looking at houses to buy? Am I really that masochistic, or do I want to live a dream?

(edit: and I fucking found this. I want it. Oh god why do I want it? Don't worry, I don't think I'll actually buy it. I just... I don't know what my issue is right now.)

Anyway. Yeah. That's all I've got. At least, that's all I think I've got.

I'm only updating because I care about you, Blog. And because you're being so kind with your feedback.

bbl. Gonna go write some shit.

[boom]

And after alllll, you're my wonderwaaaaallll

*grumbling* Don't tell me that I never update. Rackum frackum.

Anyway. Hey bloggity blog. How's tricks?

Alright, I promised I'd tell you why in the fuckshit I am writing this story, so here goes.

Once upon a time, I was a sad panda. I used multiple things to distract me from this sadness, rather than face it. I have mentioned this before. I went through my Madden phase and found myself looking for... SOMETHING. I was finding it hard to sleep at night again. And the football games took so long to play, I'd be up until 6am trying to finish. So I went back to some pony forums (shut up. Just... just shut up) to look at adorable pictures of little cartoon ponies. Ponies that I would have NEVER paid attention to when I was little. EVER. And now I'm goddamn 23 and watching My Little Pony every week. The fuck?

Anyway. This summer, I distracted myself by writing a story. I needed to write it. People loved it apparently, too. Being a writer at heart, I couldn't totally let down this small audience that I had gathered. I needed a new distraction... but what? I wasn't being fucked around by some crazy woman for once in my life. I was just... sad. Just sad all the time. Okay, that's overly dramatic. But I was sad nonetheless.

So I thought about it. What's something I can write about that I know? If I write something that I know, then I can be sure to not quit on it. Maybe people will like it because they will see the passion in it.

I spent my time reading some new fanfics from other people. Somehow I stumbled across a fic called "The Vinyl Scratch Tapes". I was in stitches. This guy was HILARIOUS. And he used two ponies that I was familiar with but weren't part of the Mane 6, as they are called. I loved the pairing of Octavia and Vinyl Scratch. They were so... different. They worked. So I found more fics of VinylTavia. I loved each and every one of them.

Now, I am not usually picky about my "ships" (that is, when fans take two characters and put them into a relationship, despite that not being the real case). I've seen hundreds of different ships for tons of ponies and if they are done right and in an adorable and not porn way, I will usually enjoy them. Some I have liked more than others. But Octavia and Vinyl Scratch is by far and large my favorite. So much so that I will not read or look at anything that has either of them shipped with someone else. Yeah, I'm THAT fucking weird.

So I thought, you know, I am a lot like Rainbow Dash. Who, in turn, is kind of like Vinyl Scratch. Since Vinyl is currently my favorite character, I'd like to write a story about her. So I figured out the who and the why but I didn't know WHAT. What could I use to ship these two together?

Then it hit me like a fucking baseball.

I don't know a lot of people's genesis stories as pertaining to their relationships. Some of them are cute and adorable, some of them are predictable. I saw something in mine though. I knew that I could recount my feelings accurately and considering the amount of times we had talked about it, I knew I could recount a little bit of both sides.

The shitty part is that the place in which the story takes place, doesn't really have a lot of technology. Which sucks because a lot of the relationship happened through texts and Facebook/Twitter. Mostly texts and Facebook though. (That is, if that movie I made awhile ago is to be believed.)

So it's not perfect. I have to adlib some things and I have to take into account the personalities of these ponies. If I would have thought about it, I would have made a better Octavia than Vinyl Scratch but I'm making due. And people are loving it, apparently. It is simultaneously weird and flattering. Flattering because any author or artist ever will tell you how awesome it would be for their work to touch someone, anyone, on a personal level. It's weird because... it's a true story. About me. So... yeah.

And that's the way over drawn explanation. I needed a distraction and my muse was itching to write. Originally, the project was going to be 15 segments long. But there's no way that is going to happen. I'm on 10 and not even sure how many more random things I'll remember to add. (Don't be afraid to mention something, if you think I've forgotten it, Blog.)

The good news is, someone DID find those links I dropped and returned them. Glad they're not lost forever.

I do have another project. Well, it's nothing I've started. But when I finish Truth, I'm going to write a sequel to Happiness Unraveled, which is the first fanfic I wrote. When I was about to finish it, I had multiple endings in mind. I HATE the one I chose. I chose it for the audience, not for me. So I feel that it would only be right to write a sequel. Maybe get Vinyl or Octy involved. But who knows. Well, I do. So... nah.

Anyway, while I was searching for the song of the chapter for chapter ten of Truth, I somehow stumbled across this and damn near pissed myself. Here is the original, in case you care.

Anyway, I am tired and my hand kind of hurts from all the typing. Plus, I can't seem to pry myself out of bed in the morning. Let's see what kind of weird dreams I have tonight!

Also... don't... don't make fun of me too hard for all this crap. No one else really gets to know.

I didn't say you COULDN'T. Cos I know you will. Just be gentle. (giggity)

[boom]

Let the Butterflies fly away

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

First of all, blog, you will NOT use that title for this post. Fuck that. No. No. No. Absolutely not. I don't care how relevant it may or may not be to what I am going to post about. Take it down.

Dickbag. Whatever.

Anyway. Something bad happened today, besides you sabotaging me with that fucking title, blog.

I dropped the link for the first part of my project. You have no idea how bad this is, blog. Like, this is really fucking bad. It's not even done yet! I mean, sure, I was going to show it off and let you see it before it was done because I have no idea when it's going to BE done, but STILL. It's not that it's UNdone. The first nine parts are very much so done. But the thing in and of itself isn't done. It's like watching an episode of, letsjustpickatotallyrandomshow, Scrubs. Sure. You're watching an episode with a plot. That episode is done and in the books. But the SERIES isn't over. Not yet anyway. Well, okay, yes, Scrubs is done. But you get what I mean. Don't give me that look, blog. I will fuck your shit all up.

Anyway, the worst part is that I dropped all nine links.

Not just the first and second. But the third, the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth!

Not that I'd need to drop all the links and waste the coding and time. I mean, if I were unveiling the whole thing I'd be all "here's the link to the first one and the rest follow if you use the left arrow key." But only a douchecanoe would drop all nine links. A true paranoid, nervous, over zealous fuckwad indeed.

What if someone, like you, finds the links and sees the project and clicks on the hidden project songs?! Then what?! WHAT WOULD I DO.

*sigh* I guess I just don't know. I hope, at least, that if someone were to find the links I accidentally dropped, they would let me know that they did so. Maybe even give me some feedback. (Which hopefully would be anything other than "this is stupid why in the shitfuck are you doing this? Which, coincidentally, is something I will be answering in my next post... at least when I find the dropped links.)

Oh blog, what will I do?

Truly, December 7th is a day that will live in infamy. /obligatory nerd Pearl Harbor joke

[boom]

p.s. seriously fuck you and your title, blog.

Hi, my name is...

Soon.

Very soon.

It won't be as done as soon I want it to be. But I can't keep sitting on it without showing it. I guess... I guess the more time I have, the better it gets. It is coming along nicely. I'm pretty pleased thus far. Hopefully you will be pleased too, blog. I realize that it probably isn't as cool or awesome as you probably are hoping for, and I'm sure it might even be something you see and go ".... really? THIS is the big surprise? This is... pathetic" but... I'm hoping that is just me being a douche and expecting you to hate me for it. It's mostly a gift for you, you know. Though, i'd be a fucking liar if I said it wasn't for me too. Plus it's doing wonders for my internet fame. Bet you're pretty curious now, huh? No? Really? Okay. Fine. Be that way. Jerk.

Though it would still be nice to know what that phrase (the longer time = better it gets) is all about <________<. WHEN WILL I KNOW. There are other things I am still curious about. Such as one time when a certain person was all "i'm trying to act cool while being super nervous cos I don't know how these things work." I am still confused. I think there was a meth deal or something. I GUESS I'LL NEVER KNOW. <______<.

Confound these ponies, they drive me to drink. Wait... what?

I promise, blog, soon. I just need a little more time. Work is trying to kill me by switching my starting time by no less than twelve hours within four days. (Thursday start= 330p. Friday start=730a. Saturday start=2a. Sunday start= 8a.) Is shitty. Second shift, first shift, third shift, first shift. Cunt. /endrant

*works feverishly and passes out*

[boom]

Dear John,

I see it all now that you're gone. Dontcha think I was too young to be messed with? The girl in the dress cried the whole, way, home... I should'a known.

#Dontjudge #stopbeingsosmug

Dear Princess Celestia-

FUCK. No, that's not what I meant to type. Start over.

Dear blog,

Yes, it is true, I have something special for you to see. But I have to finish it first. For those of you asking (<______<) it is not like that story I wrote and never let you see because... because you will get to SEE this. Just... not yet. I am working feverishly on it. I swear. But work gets in the way. My shortest shift in this five day stretch is 9 hours. And now my car window is broken again. That is something that I am ready to scream about. TWICE in the last few months. Clearly they didn't fix it right the first time, huh? Fuckers. Also could be my annual have shitty-luck-with-your-car-around-Thanksgiving thing. So... there's that.

Besides, I didn't know you wanted to actually see the last one, blog. Though, I'm not sure why I ask anymore. The answer is usually "shut up and let me see it you stupid hipster." You and I have an aggressive relationship, blog. By aggressive, I mean we actively bicker with each other, but for fun's sake. I enjoy it. But rest assured I will lay some smack down if need be.

ANYWAY. Yes, I will have something to show you. If I can get my friend's help (not incredibly likely at this point, but I will continue trying) I will have TWO things. That will be awesome. Though, I might be able to do it myself... hmm.

ANYWAY. AGAIN. I LIKE YELLING. LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLbutts.

I should really go to bed. I have to work in 8 hours. * maniacal laughter* Right, because, you know, sleep is always important to me.

Oh, did I tell you blog? I don't remember. I put boots to asses (as I am so prone to doing) and I'm going back to school in the spring. I'm kind of excited. Maybe I should hide my PS3 controllers though. And my DVDs. And my laptop... fuck. Well, I'm going into next semester with one thing on my mind: being great. I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes some of the Packers I follow are motivating. Greg Jennings is always talking about being great, how today is a great day to be great... and yeah. Next semester I'm gonna be great. *puts on belt* aww yeah.

Also, the boots to asses thing is another motivator. But that's for work. Gonna put me in charge? Expect boots to asses man.

I am a lot of things. Nerdy, goofy (both in looks and actions), not-an-idiot, a gamer, a writer, self-loathing, loyal, empathetic, lazy... but I am also capable of doing work. Chalk one up... for the bad guy!

I'm getting silly. I think I'm sleepy.
...Nah.
[boom]

Why you gotta be so mean?

Oh, uh, hey blog. Haven't seen you in a minute.

Look, I'm kind of in the middle of something, okay? It's kind of consuming most of my time, but I think it'll be worth it. I hope.

C'mon. Don't give me that look. It's just a little side project. Something I wanted to do and decided... eh, might as well. I'll letcha see if when I'm done. If you want to, that is.

For now, I'm gonna go work on it and wonder if I have a tumor because I keep getting these headaches.

lol, fun with HTML. I wish I could do that with more sites.

[boom]

I'll numb the pain til I am made of stone

I was late. I failed the challenge. Let's go again. I'll make it up to you this time.

I actually went to bed at a normal time last night. Almost did it again tonight, too. I don't know what it is, but I hate going to bed at night. Hate it. A lot. I wish I was exaggerating. I'm not. I can't explain it. I love to sleep. I can sleep for hours if you let me. I like getting up around 10-11. It's weird. I'm weird.

I did something stupid today. I heard a song (that's not the stupid part). I text someone that spent the entire summer confusing the ever-loving shit out of me. I had over a month of peace and quiet. I needed that. I needed to get distance and perspective. Tonight, I heard a song by Evanescence (see title lyric. Also, see this whole album. Pretty sure the band wrote the whole thing for me. Honest.) and I thought of this lady. And I heard it again because it's great angry music. (Go ahead, look up Made of Stone... I'll wait.....
.....
....
...
..
.
Good, eh?)

And I thought of how much of a jerk I was being for ignoring my problems, ignoring a person that considered me a close friend. I felt like a jerk now, but I needed to do it. Ignoring my problems makes them go away for awhile. Long enough for me to get away from my head. So I sent a text. But I was very clear. I said that I needed the space partially because I had no idea what she was thinking, what she was feeling. And I needed time to get over it so it wasn't an issue. To be clear to me, to you, I don't know if I got over it. But I was very clear. So I feel good about that. I got no response back. But... whatever. Straight women are confusing as fuck. If it's not one, it's another. If it's not this last one, it's the one who acts like she wants to fuck me. Whatever man. Hakunah matata.

I should really get that tattoo'd on me someday. Symbol and everything. I just need money.

[real blogging warning]

I've got my dreams. I've got my realities. I've got my skewed, pessimistic views of reality. I've got faith in the bigger picture. I've got all of those things. And sometimes, a little faith in myself, in my life, is what I need. And sometimes... by which I mean, usually, it doesn't mean a fucking thing. But it's there. It's always there.

I don't change. I just find new ways to stay the same. - This is a thought I had today. Why does it sound so fucking familiar? Like I'm stealing someone else's thunder.

I loose myself in things. People see me as loyal. I am loyal. I'm loyal to people. It's my element, if you will. But I also dive into things and commit... for a while. When I'm running from something, from my thoughts, from my emotions, I find something to hide behind. This summer, it was My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Yeah, laugh it up, Internet. It's a good show. Now it's turning to football. Memes. Cartoons. Madden 12. Pick one. I'm never in the silence for long. I never let my brain rest. When I do, I end up needing people. I don't want to need people. People are too busy for me. People have jobs, boyfriends or girlfriends, better things to do. I distract myself from the pain. Never fully alone. Never in the silence. I quit drinking every night. I cut back on smoking except my one after work. They didn't help. Submersing myself in side jobs, in my daily job... it takes the edge off. Nothing is worse than being idle. I'm idle at work when I do donuts, it's terrible when Matt's not there. I have nothing to distract me. I need the distraction. I need people to see me happy. I need people to see the version of me they want to see. With distractions, with a busy mind... I'm happy. Usually.

And maybe... just maybe... it's why I don't sleep at night.

[boom]

I'm Lost in Paradise

Lost in Paradise by Evanescence <3

Why do I only want to update this thing at 4am? If I don't bloody pay attention to it, how do I expect others to?

Other. Just... other.

Oh. Yeah. 4am is a normal persons 8pm.

I challenge myself to a duel.

Update this shit for real tomorrow. With real words and interesting things.

Ha. Yeah. Right.

[boom]

Post script: Really, Blogger? You made me jump through hoops to post a freaking emo heart? Lame. As. Shit.

You made me who I am, from the words you said

Champion by Chipmunk ft Chris Brown (I know, I know. He can suck it.)


Hi blog. Remember how I was going to elaborate on my post below? Yeah, I don't want to do that right now. I just want to check in.

I've been working a lot. With all the drama going on at work, I'm usually more exhausted than usual coming home. I hate my job. So much. Someday... someday I'll be better than this.

Right now, I'm cautiously optimistic. What does that mean, you ask? I'm not sure. My day started out meh, then it got shitty, then it got... better? I don't know. Nothing really happened one way or another. I wish that I would channel all the distraction I use with video games into writing. I have so many ideas but I'm all "nurr game nurr". It's weird. I didn't play video games for like, ever. Now I'm playing ALL THE TIME. Which is fine. I just wish I could force myself to write. I think I could actually write things that maybe I would let my friends read. If they wanted to... maybe... I mean, I wouldn't force them to. *cough*

Anyway. I got a new phone on my birthday (it's tradition to blog about it, don't roll your eyes). It's neat. I love it. Me gusta.

I'm the point of post-sick where I"m coughing but not a lot. It's just fucking annoying.

Anyway. I don't want to work tomorrow. So I think that's why I'm not going to bed. I know sleep makes it light which makes me have to work. I'm at the stage again where I just wake up in the morning and think "I don't want to fucking work in two days. At least by Sunday I'll be ready for a few days off."
THAT IS NOT HEALTHY.

I've been here before, though. And we all know that I won't do anything about it. Like I said, someday. At the least, I'll work my way up the ladder and not work at store level. Fuck store level. (Ooh lawdy, please don't fiah me massa!) <_____<

Anyway. I'll check in later, Internet. Just wanted you to know I'm still here.

[boom]

I can't pick a vague/relevant 10 Years lyric

I really hate when I'm online for like, six hours and then after I go to bed I decide I need to blog about something. That's probably because I am the goddamn king of distracting myself. And then everything comes back.

I feel that I need to blog right now, but I also feel that I would be the world's biggest douche for bitching about my terrible life during this time. So, for the time being, since I have to work in... five hours anyway, I'm going to write a cliff notes version. Rather, I'm going to make bullet points and come back. It's not going to help, really, and when I come back to write I'm either going to A. forget most if not all of my point and B. will most certainly loose the poetic and flowery way in which I describe most things. However, if I don't say anything, my thoughts will merely become ghosts of their former selves, haunting my mind for a few seconds at a time before drifting away and deteriorating. And there is nothing worse than rotting, dying thoughts in your head. It smells like failure and depression. And heroin.

Things that are utterly retarded that are bothering me somehow:
-Money
-Regrets (kind of. This makes it sound like i'm regretting stuff. Which I guess I am? It's more about the principle of the idea)
-College
-Work
-My insecurities (see also: my life)
-My desperate need for attention (see above)
-The fact that all the lyrics I ever post anywhere are thinly-veiled portals into my true thoughts and feelings, and therefore I don't post any lyrics ever because I don't want to make people feel awkward/seek attention (see above two entries)
-self medication
-multiple friends of mine
-the new roomie
-the fact that i just got too lazy to capitalize anything
-sinuses
-a new story plot, maybe.

Yeah. Anyway. I'll come back to all that soon. Maybe tomorrow. But I'm tired and my cat is awkwardly staring at me and I want him to stop. Maybe the thoughts will let me sleep now, too. Unless orange mcwhinybutt purrs in my ear all night. That'd be fun. Anyway...

[boom]

It's hard to have faith in anything

Remember that one time I got really sad for no reason?

Like, that one time I woke up and my dad was fixing the house and it was a nice, fall day and I played a new video game all day?

And then at the end of the day I just felt like total shit but still refused to really reach out to anyone?

Yeah.

Goodnight

[boom]

What Hurts the Most

Well, today is the day I've been waiting to get over with, and trying my hardest to not think about.

The weekend was amazing. I got to spend time with the one person on this earth that fully and completely understands me. We had a heart to heart (with booze) on Thursday. It was nice. The nicer part, still, is how easy it is to just... jump right into a conversation. It's not awkward at all (despite us both being a little on the awkward side). Friday was Friday. It was like any other day. Saturday was off the chain (is that what the kids are saying these days?) I had a ridiculous and probably illegal amount of fun. Seriously. Holy shit I have never been that drunk before. Though, unfortunately for me, I still don't think it counts. <_______<.

The best part is that everything felt the same as it had before. Everything was comfortable. Everything was easy. Not that I was surprised. So maybe I was a little nervous that things had completely changed? She's proven time and time again that I'm kind of a tool like that. My words, not hers. The point, though, is that nothing is changing because we have a really strong friendship. And that's not going away. Despite it all, that's not going away. I will maintain that we will be good friends for a very long time. When I said BFF, I wasn't being ironic (well, not totally ironic). I meant every letter. That sounds retarded. THE POINT, is that I have the best kind of best friend and I would do well to remember that, next time I'm wallowing in an endless sea of self-pity. The point, is that there is still room in her life for me (I... think?). The point, is that just because things are changing, doesn't necessarily mean they will be different. Chapters end, but new ones begin. The story keeps on writing and evolving. And I am confident that she is one main character that won't get replaced for a very long time.

I still can't stand being in my house right now though. I can't do it.

Shifting gears for a second. I think the other leading lady of the story might end up going away. Which is a pity. She was a good friend of mine. I guess we'll see what happens. To say that I don't have high hopes is kind of an understatement. We'll see internet, we'll see.

I took tomorrow off work for a reason. I need time before I can pretend to be happy around people I could give a shit about. For right now, I'm going to remind myself of the first couple of paragraphs and the totally awesome weekend I just had, in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

[boom]

I don't know when I got bitter, love is surely better when it's gone

Lyrics by Tonic


Sorry I haven't talked to you lately, blog. I've been... busy. Okay. So I started writing a story. I needed to write it. It's almost done. I think it says a lot when I'm going to finish a story. Maybe. I'm still torn on the ending. Three choices and I don't like one of them. I want all the endings.

It's a... okay, fine. It's a fanfic. I know, I know. That's the stupidest thing I've ever done. And I roleplayed for three years. *Sigh*. I just... I just needed to get this story out, but I didn't want to use the names that... er, that make the story real. I needed a disguise for it (though, if you read it, it's not much of a disguise as to who is who).

Maybe I'll let you read it. If you promise not to judge, blog. I hear people are enjoying it (random strangers on the internet, that is.) I guess it's well written. I don't think I'm a great writer, but I do know that my writing gets better the most upset I am. It brings out the passion and emotion in the piece. I think that's what's happening here.

I'll come back to you soon. Promise. I have a lot to say that won't fit in the story. But right now it's 5:30am and for once I'm tired. So goodnight.
[boo-zzzzzzzzzzz]

Call me a safe bet, I'm betting I'm not.

Lyrics by Brand New.

The best news is, continuing with the theme from my latest sleep madness tweet, is that I think I've successfully steeled myself off. Not Sarah, not Matt, ...well...kind of Emily, can see through it.

If I pretend it's okay, it's okay. If I just...forget about everything, I can live my life every day and no one can tell.

Of course, it helps that the three people that are closest to me, I rarely see. Matt I usually see in passing. We work opposite shifts so it makes it hard to see him often. Emily and Sarah are both no less than 2.5 hours away.

It's so easy to pretend, with just text between the four of us, that I'm content in my life. No one knows how much I drink, how much I smoke, how much time I spend staring at a computer screen, begging for any and all distractions to get me through the night. I don't have to feel like there's no air in my lungs. I don't have to have the sick, pathetic, self-loathing feeling bubbling in the pit of my gut. I don't have to deal with it. I get so little sleep lately that I fall asleep within minutes of hitting the pillow.

This is brave-face at it's finest.

I don't have to worry about telling Sarah all the things I want to tell her. About how I (think) I feel about her. About how she's such a great distraction from life, that I need a distraction from HER. But that's okay. I know who she is and what I am to her. It's not that bad. Just a pang of longing. Just one night, I keep telling myself. One night to hide behind alcohol and just...fucking say everything.

But it's not necessary. She doesn't matter anymore. She's just a friend who's at my side when I need her.

I don't have to worry about looking pathetic in front of Emily. As long as I can keep my emotions in check when I'm texting her (which, I just failed at. Miserably.), then she'll never be the wiser. Why burden her when she's happy where she is? I'm far too good at injecting pathetic sadness and burden onto people. I try to leave her alone as much as possible. Sometimes it's easier than other times.

But she doesn't know any better...so maybe she does. So what? She's also just a friend who's at my side when I need her.

And Matt...well...I don't say much to him at all. He doesn't need to know what's really in my head. No need to look weak in front of him.

But he also doesn't know any better. And it doesn't matter. He's just a bro.

If I hide behind a steely glare, a fake laugh, a cheesy smile...good. I'm sick of being the burden. Sick of being the sad one, the lonely one. Sick of people not telling me things so they don't hurt me.

I'll wear brave-face as long as I have to, to convince my friends that everything's alright and life is great and we're all friends.

It's time I really, really steeled myself off. It's time I let my emotions go and just lived the way people want me to be. Happy. At least, content. And that's how it'll be.

They'll never be the wiser.

What the fuck did I just write?

I went for a long drive today. Lots of stuff on my mind, you see. Which happens sometimes. The problem is that right now, away from the safety of nature, away from music so loud I can't possibly try to think...it all comes back. At the same time. And in the swirling whirlwind of thoughts that are constantly thrashing within my mind, it's sometimes hard to pick out just one and exploit it.

I really wanted to write a poem here. I think that last sentence was my attempt at doing so. I'm going to keep trying.

As I drove past the calm Wisconsin river, my mind altered it's path. I was empty, alone, confused, hurt...and finally calm. Underneath the green canopy of trees, the sunlight streaming gently through the leaves and touching and quiet lawns of a beautiful sunny day, I felt calm. I'm not sure why. I didn't feel right. I could still feel turmoil rumbling inside of me, but I felt calm.

I can't explain it. I don't know. I don't know much right now.

I once wrote a poem that I called "numbness and emotion". I know, the idea of being numb and full of emotion seems counter-intuitive. But think about it for a second. Think for a second that when things happen, you immediately numb yourself to them. (Something I used to be so good at, something I'm getting better at again. Something that I'm not sure if I'm proud of. More on that later.) If you're numb, it doesn't hurt. You walk around amongst friends and smile, laugh, drink, have fun. But really think about that. When everyone is gone, when you're alone in your thoughts, staring up at a dark ceiling with nothing but the dull hum of a fan to break the deafening silence...what's there? Are you still numb? To an extent...if you're good. But really dig deep, you're not just numb. The inside of your mind is a hurricane of pain that you're experiencing only a fraction at a time. It's the dull roar in the back of your head that keeps you staring into the darkness, wishing that something good would happen. That part of you that wishes that all the hurt, all the pain would go away, that's the emotion. It's always there. You can numb it on the outside, you can make it so you're not clutching your chest, wishing that empty, dead feeling would go away. You're not numb at all, you're feeling every bit of pain that's trapped inside of you.

It's so hard to explain. And I guess I'm doing a terrible job of it because I can't quite gather my thoughts. I think i'm also distracted because it's hot, because I'm tired, because there's a blonde girl that confuses the holy shit out of me. Internet, does a girl typically ask to "snuggle" with someone she isn't at least somewhat interested in? Does she constantly make remarks like "I wish you were here!" and "I miss you!" and then there was the playful indecision as to whether or not she would "swing that way". There was something off about it but I'm too lazy to type the transcript.

ANYWAY.

So I'm numbing myself again. I think. I'm not sure. For awhile I was freely talking to people when I was upset and sorting it out and then it was done. Now I'm hiding behind the biggest smile, the heartiest laugh, the smartest zingers. It all falls back to me feeling like I'm being annoying and bothering people. I guess I feel like I'm getting liberated from this self-inflicted prison, but slowly.

I have to stop here. I have no idea what I'm saying and I think I just need to come back when I'm more focused. Until next time.
[boom.]

I guess T.Swift sings about MY life too

But I bet T.Swift has never said any of these upcoming words. Not ever. She's too pure.

Alright, so I've had enough time today to really think about something that pissed me off. Well, kind of. You see, today was, what we in the biz like to call, a really fucking awesome weather day. It was gorgeous. And I had the day off. So...suck it. Anyway. I got bored and irritated of being inside, so I went outside to read. After picking out three, yes, three books off the bookshelf I went outside to enjoy the afternoon. And boy did I. I read one of those Post Secret books (which was utterly fascinating!), reread parts of a funny British book, and started a book series that I have been SO GOOD about avoiding. Seriously. The fucking thing is OVER. The final movie comes out TOMORROW. Yet I started it today. I was SO GOOD about it. Part of me is saddened because I love pissing people off by saying that I've never read it. Now I'm well into the second book. Damnit.

Anyway.

I got a text from a coworker in the middle of my absolutely stressful and in no way awesome and relaxing day. The first text was simply a smiley face. I sent back a question mark, sure it was a comment about how I was in the store but deliberately stayed the fuck out of the kitchen. I mean I was busy. Anyway. The response to my response was "just a smiley to brighten your day!" For some reason, this set me off. You see, yesterday I went to see Emily. Which, of course, could only mean that I would have a TERRIBLE day with my best freaking friend. Yes. Yes, that is what it means. I hate the idea that she assumed that just because of who I was with, I was going to come back and cry into my pillow. How dare she assume that I would be sad at all. The whole thing just angers me. This, after that...[insert hurtful adjectives] had the NERVE to say what she said to me. TO ME! No, I won't put it here, as it shan't be recorded for me to fester over at a later date.

But how dare she assume that she knows enough about me, about my life, about my friends, to try to "brighten my day". Never before has a harmless gesture irritated me so much. Part of the problem is just the idea of assuming that I would NEED to have my day brightened. Tuesday I got the best kind of food with the best kind of person on a great weather day. Today I sat in the perfect kind of weather with a freaking book. I guess just...who it was that text me...UGH. That's really as far as I can go with it. Like, it's the principle. I want so badly to rub in her face how GREAT my life has been the last few days. As soon as I made the sound decision (on Tuesday, admittedly) to keep her out of my personal life, I've felt so liberated. I feel as if I've gotten rid of a burden, of a person holding me back. A person who is in her 30's and is stuck acting like a 13 year old...at best. She is foul at mouth because she thinks people, the younger people, will accept her. She is embarrassing to be in bars with because she is "wild". She compulsively cheats on her totally awesome and good to her husband. She's nothing more than a drama-seeking shit starter. Ask anyone.

And, to use my favorite Owen Hart quote; Enough is enough, and it's time for a change. I'm just so sick of pretending I give a crap about how her latest boyfriend turned out to be a crazy asshole. Oh, and that's another thing. It's not her that's ever in the wrong, oh no. Everyone ELSE is the crazy fucking asshole. Yeah, no. You don't think there's a trend there? People, after months of putting up with your crazy ass, decide that they're sick of it and suddenly there is something wrong with them. What's that saying about denial? Oh yeah. It's, shut the fuck up and admit your faults you fucking passive-aggressive nutcase.

Oh. That's not it? Close enough.

I'm just sick of it. I'm sick of her pseudo-supporting me during a bad time in my life. Hey, just a hint, but sometimes telling someone you want to "hit her so she can feel pain" isn't something that I want to hear. Yeah, that happened too. Yeah, no, let's totally throw logic and proper reason out the window. I really like it when people tell me they want to hurt people that are miles, nay, galaxys more important than you could ever WISH to be. But that's another part of the problem, isn't it? Just the pure anger and jealousy of not being someone that I want to fuck. First of all, no offense, but fuck no. Second, she's MARRIED. Jesus rollerblading Christ. Do people not have ethics or morals or a fucking conscious anymore? At least if her husband was a total dick and a drunk and a burden to society I could at least accept it. But no. He's an awesome, intelligent, funny guy. Makes me sick what she does behind his back.

People often wonder why I do whatever it is I can to make her jealous and angry. Because she pisses me off and it's the best I can do. If I tell her how shitty of a worker she is, she'll go off and try to kill herself again. (Which, for the record, I still don't understand. I guess that happens when you want attention on you all the time.) If I tell her she's a great worker and a great person and my best friend, I'm lying to myself and breaking every code of honor I've ever set for myself.

Hanging out with my best friend made me realize that there are people who will stick around through thick and thin. There are people that always see through your bullshit, and you always see through theirs. They are the people that you hold onto. They are the people that, if you need to, you fight for. But usually you don't have to fight to keep them around...cos they're always going to be there. These are the people that don't judge you for anything (well...mostly anything. At least they're honest about it.) The people that don't give you some bullshit lie, they're not your "yes men". They're gentle and strong and honest and awesome. These are the people that I need more of.

Then, there are people who are whiny, self-absorbed, attention-seeking, and thrive off of making drama. These are the people who couldn't give a shit less about your life, but pretend to care because you were stupid enough to care about them. These are the people that can lure you back with tears and bullshit stories about sleepless nights. These are the people that say shit to you that they, A. have no place saying and B. know nothing about. These are the people that I need to get rid of, at all costs. Even if it means that working together will be difficult. I don't care. Everyone likes me more anyway. (I know that's childish and stupid to point out, but it's true. Ask anyone who they'd rather see working.)

This is a lot longer of a rant than I was going to post, but sometimes when you sit down to type everything just flows from your mind to your fingers, like a river of hate. No, a river of rant. That's it. We done took a ride on the River of Rant tonight.

I decided she doesn't get to know anything else about my personal life. Not if I can help it. I've learned, through trial and error, who my true friends are. Who I can trust both inside and out of work. The only problem is that if I make a big deal of it, I can kiss my promotion at work as good as gone. Maybe. I think my store leader likes me more (not sure though, depends on the day). Not that it matters, everyone knows how prone she is to throwing people under the bus. ANYTHING to make her majesty look good. Which is fine, actually. I'll let my work do my talking.

All other non-work subjects will be answered with a "great", "good", or "not bad". Because, quite honestly...it's none of her fucking business. Besides, I've got the added advantage of being able to pass a random if it came up. News flash...no one gives two flying shits if you smoke pot. Shut. Up.

The best part about me listening to T.Swift is that I have another weapon. She hates T.Swift. Thinks she's an untalented princess. Ha! Rubbish I say. I can't wait to shut her up. I shouldn't be this excited about that. Oh well.

Anyway. I should quit while I'm ahead. Or rather, I should quit before this is 10 pages long.
[boom].

Paramore is [still] the best band

I think I avoid coming here. I mean, I try to update to keep my, uh, reader, entertained. That's that part of me that wants attention. But there's the other part of me that's like...what am I going to unravel once I open that new blog? What kind of shit is going to come out?

Today, I was going to write a poem. I felt inspired. I drove by the river as the sun was setting. I saw how the light reflected off the water. I immediately wanted to write something, anything, everything. But I didn't. I just came home and watched TV. Why? I don't know why. Mostly because I felt that if I had wanted to share it...I wouldn't have been able to. Not that no one would have read it, it's just that I'm back to feeling like a burden to roughly everyone I've ever talked to. I don't really text anyone. I don't tweet at anyone. I don't...I just don't. I don't know. I just feel like everything I do is annoying. And I hate it. I hate it so much. Because I KNOW that's not how it is. I just can't get past it sometimes. I go through and reread some of the texts I send to people. Where is the confidence I once had? Where did it go? Why am I so full of doubt?

There's part of me that's getting better with things. But there is also part of me that is full, overflowing even, with doubt. Part of me doesn't even want to post this because all of my entries are so whiny. Why am I so whiny? Good lord.

And then...I don't like coming here because holy man dude do I get sick of whining and hearing myself talk...er...listening to myself type? Yeah. That. Whatever.

I just have to be patient, be diligent. I know that I'll be okay. I know this. I just have a hard time realizing and remembering it sometimes.

[boom].

Obligatory bi-polar post.

Today I feel empty, paranoid, and almost sick. I've let my imagination run wild and now I'm sitting here on a body-warmed couch doing my best to remind myself that it's all in my head. It all started last night when I woke up at midnight and proceeded to try to convince myself that, no, no one was trying to break into the house. At one point I even got up and turned the lights on. I don't know what my problem was. Every little noise just drove me nuts. Especially because I have two cats that galavant around.

I don't know what my problem is. I guess I just lost confidence. Saturday I had all the confidence in the world. I knew everything was going well and it was right and (almost) the way I wanted it. I felt strong. I felt like things might just work for me yet. And then I had a pretty good night with some friends and a bonfire and drank enough rum for me to not stand properly. For just one night I was able to pretend that I was okay. And it was nice. I didn't have the overwhelming feeling that having fun would further alienate me from the most important person in my life.

But for some reason, today, I can't do it. It's another day when I desperately need reassurance but for the sake of not being annoying and frustrating, I'm trying to resist.

I don't know. Eventually it should pass. Until then, I think it's going back to just sleeping and working. I don't know. Blah.

Don't make me spend another lonely night

Lyrics from Prayin' for Daylight by Rascal Flatts.


It's funny how these posts work out. Literally one day after I posted that whole "people who judge me for my music aren't worth it" rant, I hung out with one of the most judgmental people I know. It's funny in an ironic sort of way. That's okay though. Without her and her mind games, I don't think I would have had the nerve to talk to this strange girl in my philosophy classes. I needed an outlet from her, and I found the best possible one. Everything happens for a reason, after all.

I think I'm distraction-ing on another one of my coworkers. I did it this last winter and I'm doing it again. This time, though, I at least know that I don't actually have a crush on her (I really hate that term. It makes me feel like I'm in 4th grade.) but rather I am displacing my confused emotions onto her. See, when I get attention from a pretty lady, I eat it up. And I hate that about myself. But considering the rather large void in my life right now and my constant state of boredom...well, she serves as a release. She doesn't pseudo-flirt with me as well as the other one did, but that's probably a good thing. Okay, so I call it distrationing, you call it rebounding. It's the same thing. Almost. The difference is in a rebound one, if not both parties, are going to end up hurt. In this case, I know she is with her boyfriend of three years. I know that we are just friends. And most importantly I know that I don't really want her. I feel like even IF anything ever happened, I wouldn't really be into it anyway. Like, I would but my heart wouldn't be in it. I'd be like "meh, I'm makin' out with a cute chick." And that's not cool. Or maybe it is. Hmmm.

So, I've got this buddy. What? That's it. Over the last month or so, I've grown really close with one of my buddy's from work. He is pretty awesome. I don't know what I would have done without him these last few weeks. They've been rough, but he's been there. I am so incredibly thankful to the powers-that-be for making him stick around at work and not getting a different, more better job. More...more better. #strongbad

I find it funny that in the 45 minutes it took me to cut the grass today, half of it was listening to country, and the other half was hard rock and rap. I mean, it just amuses me to go from "I see a dust trail followin' an old red Nova, baby blue eyes your head on my shoulderrrrrrr" to "That's what you get when you let your heart win, wwwooooooaaaahhhh" to "Throw dirt on me, grown a wild flower. It's fuck the world, get a child out her."

Not that no one else listens to multiple genres of music. It just always amazes me that so many different kinds of music can reach the same person in so many different ways. Music is so powerful it's ridiculous. I could never listen to JUST ONE genre of music, or worse yet, dislike music as a whole. Yes, I've met people that don't like music. I guess that's okay. I just don't get it. I'm sure there are things that I do that people don't get. Which is fine. But holy shit at least let me put a helmet on so there's no mess before you BLOW MY MIND.

Anyway. Speaking of music. I think it's time to go through my Zune player and mess around with what I do and do not have on there. Or maybe it's time to go practice some more. (I'm actually getting fluent in guitar! I can almost play a whole song without fucking up! It's the little things.) Ooooor I could play some video games because I haven't played ONE in the time I've had off of work in the last month. It's...kind of scary. I've been too lazy to play video games. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME. I think that means it's time for more =).

Boom.

Waitin' for that mornin' sun

Eventually I'll get around to an actual blog. The problem is that when I think of the right words, it's 3am and I'm at work for at least the next 6 hours.

I have a terrible headache right now. Not quite a migraine. I have to work in 7 hours. You'd think I'd go to sleep. No. Of course not. That's smart.

I haven't stopped listening to country music in the last week. It's weird. But I kind of like it. At least, I like some of it. At least, I like Rascal Flatts. Maybe I'm taking a shine to T.Swift. Maybe.

It's also kind of nice because I'm finally not caring about how people perceive me. There's the part of me that likes being accepted, but then there is the part of me that's realizing, fully, that if people are judging me because of what I'm pumpin' in my car (or for saying stupid ass shit like that last sentence), then I don't have time to waste on them.

Alright, I have to cut this short. This headache is turning south really fast.

Drunk rambling with loads of typos, I'm sure

I might be a little drunk. Maybe even a little too drunk to drive. I made it home. Safely.

Drinking may not have been my best idea in hindsight. Drinking brings back everything that I've worked this week to put past me. Drinking makes me stay up when I'm tired and blog to the internet about how much my life sucks. Drinking is going to make me cry myself to sleep. Drinking was a shit terrible idea.

I have worked this entire week to make everything okay. If nothing else, I've worked to make everything that is in my head...go away. I try not to think about it. When I think about it, I seal myself off to everyone. Then I try to forget it. It's worked for the most part.

I don't want to sit here and be emo anymore. Sound familiar? It should. Look at most all of the blog posts on this page. They're all about overcoming my crippling depression and making my life good. Thinking positive thoughts, being logical. All of them. Almost. I don't want to make this another one of those posts. I'm tired of making, apparently, empty promises both to myself and others. I'm also tired of bitching and whining and moaning about stupid stuff. I'm sick of it all. I want to have fun. I want to see my friends and know that life is okay.

My biggest problem is that I want to be important to someone. Okay, yes, specifically someone, but also generally. As anti-social as I can be, I want someone to wake up in the morning and wonder how I'm doing. I want people to wonder if I'm okay when I'm not there to prompt the idea.

I am terrified, utterly terrified, of being forgotten. You might say it's my biggest fear.

Is it logical? No. Not at all. But it's there. Someday I'll beat it. Someday I'll look in the mirror and I won't cringe. Someday I'll be happy with myself both inside and out. To think of where I was to where I am now is comforting. Does that make sense? Fuck no. I am not well, per se, but I am also happier with myself then I have been in the past. I am just scared. I cannot bare the thought of loosing the most important person in my life. Sound dramatic? Maybe it is. Maybe it's so illogical it's laughable. Maybe in a few months I'll laugh and how silly I am being. I hope so. I am just scared. Over a year ago, I laid eyes on the most influential person that's ever walked into my life. I told myself, correctly, that she was going to be someone that I needed. I didn't want to believe how much I would need her, because I was scared then and afraid to be wrong. I've realized now that my gut feelings...are often right. As God as my witness, I had a feeling that I would be in this situation, in this time period.

Sure, it could be coincidence. It was bound to happen. Right?...Right? But how could I call it so perfectly? It doesn't make sense.

I am a pessimist at heart. I would rather admit defeat before I need to, then bother building myself up for what can only be complete devastation. It is easier to believe that something will hurt me, than that something will help me. (IE, seeing my current situation was easier to believe than seeing that we were going to be together in the first place.)

"Seeing" makes me sound like I think I'm psychic. I'm not. I just have gut feelings. They haven't often lead me astray. So I hope that, despite this week's set back, I can find it in me to believe that things will be okay. That I will not be forgotten. That the one that I love the most won't abandon me in the worst kind of way.

I do believe that. But sometimes I need a little help. Sometimes I need to be reminded of the truth. Sometimes seems more often than not. I am sorry. I don't mean to be so needy. In fact, I hate it. I don't think I really have to mention that. Sometimes, though, when I send stupid, emotional, surprisingly not drunk texts...it's because I need that extra yes. It's because I need to know that, logically, I am not a nobody. I am a somebody. I am special, if even just a small amount, to someone.

Sometimes. I want to have that one, single, rouge tear wiped away. I want to be looked in the eye and told, "Hey...you're important to me. And I'm not going anywhere."

And you know what? I've been told that. And it's like a pain killer. It works the first time, every time. But like most pain killers, it's an addiction. I do my best to go without. I do my best to build up tolerance. Until I can absolutely bear it no more. Until the weight of the world crushes me and pins me to my self-loathing pity party.

I'm not pathetic. I'm fucking awesome. Fuck you if you don't agree. But even the strongest of the strong have moments. I just have a lot. I've seen a lot of things, I've been left by a lot of people. I can't bear loosing my best friend again. Not now. Not you. Fuck that. I'll fight until I have no life left.

But I don't need to fight. That's the beauty. I just have to live. That's it. Don't fix what ain't broken. That's somewhat accurate. I am constantly trying to correct what my mind tells me is wrong. It's not wrong. It's me being paranoid. It's me afraid. I am scared. A lot.

I hold the real truths to be self evident. I will not be left behind like a useless speck of the past. I am the present. I will always be part of the present. I just need to learn that, to remember that.

I just want the comfort of knowing I'm always important. Is that so much to ask?

Well.

I feel like this blog has outstayed it's welcome. No one is going to read it anymore, I'm very certain of that. Sure, I have thoughts and feelings and maybe I will write them down. But it was nice to know that I had a reader.

Besides, we all know what a train wreck I am right now. Maybe blogging to an empty blog will help. But more than likely, it will make me think about how abandoned I feel. And maybe I shouldn't feel that way. But I can't help it. I just feel like there's no place for me anymore. And I hate it. I hate the feeling that I'm unimportant. I guess, right now, I need reassurance more than ever.

But I can't do this right now. I need to sleep. Goodnight.

Insert witty title here

I was going to go to sleep, but then I didn't. Obviously. Perhaps, maybe, I'll be up in time to watch cartoons again. And maybe this time, I won't be trying to not enjoy them. (In case anyone was wondering, it's nearly impossible...no, it is impossible, to be upset when Bugs Bunny is on your TV.)

Let's get started, shall we? Alright. I realize that I am in a constant state of...well, drama. My most of me is just...fed up with all of my shit, but the other part of me, the part of me that makes Micheal Cera seem confident, is just being a doucher. It's hard, because I know that almost every negative thing I think about myself is a crock of shit. I know this. But I can't believe this. That sounds really idiotic. Let's delve deeper. I have a really addicted and paranoid personality, wherein I become very attached to people (especially those closest to me). The paranoia comes in when I become too attached and begin to realize it. This is when I know that I need to give aforementioned person space, but worry that when they get space, they will realize that life is better without a nagging worrier such as myself. Then, I get cut out of the picture and hurt. Bad. So, now, tell me. Where is the sense make in all of this? Why am I cursed with being both too attached and paranoid? It sucks, and it is the source of my need for constant reassurance. Which, of course, gets a lot more annoying. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that holy shit I need to chill out and smoke some weed.

I'm not saying that I'm excusing the way I act sometimes. (Which has a tendency to get very possessive). I'm saying that this is how my mind works and I'm going to make a great mental effort to make it not work this way. I really hate making excuses for myself, but I guess sometimes I need to. Except that sounds really douchey.

I actually made a list of things I wanted to blog about, about a week ago. But I fear that I am tired and this isn't really going the way I wanted. Normally everything just spews fourth onto the blank canvas that is my blog, creating an endless whirlwind of jabber to which I relay my deepest and most innermost feelings.

But that. That right there. That's enough for one blog. More later.

[insert thankful-for-friends-comment-that's-been-made-a-million-times-but-is-sitll-true here.]

Boom.

But I'm innocent, love is the motive, that's why you're killing 'em

Title thanks to Trying to Find a Balance by Atmosphere. Which is a song I haven't heard in a really long time but is really fucking good still. (Thank god for the internet.)

Good night!














Alright, alright. Time for a real blog. Engage.

I've been really down lately. Why? Stupid reasons, that's why. It's stupid because I hate crying, I hate feeling sorry for myself, and most importantly I hate putting others in a position of "well shit what do I do/say now?". I don't want to be that person, I don't want to go crying to someone else all the time (well...okay, so maybe sometimes I want a shoulder to cry on both literally and figuratively. Sometimes I want to be told that everything's okay.)

I guess things are just changing and it seems like it's almost rapid, yet I don't have any answers at all...nor do I want them, in some cases. For instance, this summer is a huge conundrum that no one really has the answers to. I know how I want it to go, I know who I want here with me for the summer in our house. But, unfortunately, I can't stop things from running their natural course. And I hate it. Here's where the shitty part comes in. I need to know whats going on because if I'm not going to have a permanant roommmate for the summer, I need to let my back up know. Then again, I don't want to think about it. I don't want anyone to say anything about it. I want to pretend that it's not really happening because I can't handle it. I can't. I just can't.

And why is that? Because I'm weak. I don't mean that as a shot at me, I just mean that I can't last without my main support. I did it over December and Janurary and by god if it wasn't the most difficult-to-get-through month that I've had in years. I'm not strong enough to do it. I hate that I've become so dependant, and I'm sure she does too, but there's nothing I can do right now. I'm stuck in a place of not wanting it to hurt/feeling like everything is almost perfect/not wanting to move on even a little bit. I know I'm going to sound like a 15 year old here but I don't want to move on because I feel like anyone else is just going to let me down. What we had was awesomely amazing and even flawed, but that made it right. No one else can touch that. So why should I look? I don't want to. So I'm going to sit and secretly (or not so) wish that everything would be "right" again.

Aaaaand shifting gears for a moment, lets talk about girls (c wut I did thar?). So, when I feel like one is mad at me, I focus on the other to ease the pain. It's like having a crack withdrawl and shooting vodka because I can't get any coke. So, the problem with the vodka is that when I turn to it as a method of pain release, it seems to work too well. It's like the vodka likes when I use it a little too much and that's weird because vodka's lover orange juice is no stranger to me.

Okay, substance metaphor is getting weird and awkward to use. Anyway. I feel like there's this weird thing between me and her but at the same time, I feel like it's just two people hanging out. Perhaps, like most things in my life, I'm reading WAY too much into individial actions and not looking at the big picture. The thing that scares me the most is that somehow I could end up being "the other woman". Laugh if you want, but it scares me that it's even a remotely viable option for this friendship. The single most frightening part about it...is I'm not sure I'd be able to say no. And that, ladies and gentlemen of the internet, is one of the top most terrifying and hopeless thoughts I've ever had.

Anyway. Enough about senarios that are only a problem in my head. (Like I said, I take individual actions and build whole stories on them because I read too much into things and don't take things at face value. That, I do believe, is Rora's fault and I'm trying my damnedest to knock it off. Sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar....okay, yes, but sometimes it's a penis.)

Maybe part of the reason that I have such a hard time dealing with Blake is because I AM a Blake. I feel hopeless, I'm clingy as all fuck, and I talk too much. Well, that does sound like me. I don't know. Sometimes, I don't know what to do. Sometimes I just want to sit down and just...release the demons that haunt me and just fucking cry about it. But then I just don't. I end up just fuming about it, then I act cranky, then no one wants to talk to me, and finally I feel like a giant douche for the next few hours until I just let it go. (Because, apparently, I'm the only person in the world that can't just 'let it go'. I let it bother me because god forbid I'm not perfect and I should remind myself of this at every possible interval.)

And I'm so paranoid too. Every time there's a lot of typing, every time the phone goes off, every time anything happens at all. It's like everything is a goddamn conspiracy against me. But whhhhyyyy. Why does it have to be like this? It doesn't. And it needs to stop, for the benefit of everyone involved. Someday, I'll do things right.

Anyway. I've been at this for a good hour and it's to the point where my first point is now lost and I keep getting distracted. Let's end this on a good note.

-I am lucky enough to have first world problems
(I.E. Zune not working, Playstation malfunctioning, too many tvs in the house to use, phone being a massive peice of shit.)

-I have the best people around me
(I have the best best friend and everyone else can suck it. Oh, also she's pretty good looking too so everyone else can suck it twice. Also, I have majorly awesome other friends that deserve a shout out too. Suck it three times, you're out. Giggity.)

-I have a steady job.
(eeehhhh oohhh fine. I make good money.)

-I have awesome coworkers
(oh there's what I was looking for before.)

-I own my own house and have a working car
(And I like to think I have a great family, (yes, family, deal with it) within this house. And yes, that includes the pets.)

Boom.

I have two huge surprises!

But I'll never tell.


=)

#lazyblognumber2
#noreallyilldoarealonesoon
#problem?

My 40th Post

It occurs to me that I should update. I'm not really. I'm lazy. Trivia updates and Paramore question of the day, plus dreams and feelings up after this next break.

Waiting for daylight

Better update, lest I get yelled at.

My cats are being super obnoxious right now. It's...well, it's annoying. Surprsing, I know. Anyway, onto business.

Day 2 - Your first Paramore concert
I first saw Paramore in November of 2009. It was a warm fall day. I remember because I wore only a t-shirt and jeans to the show. It was in Minneapolis and I went with my two roommates and my then best friend. The drive was fun, but I was exhausted. You see, I worked that morning, 7-12, unloading truck. I was up late the night before, until around 3 or so. There was this girl. This way too awesome, way too funny, way too hypnotizing girl. We just talked, and talked, and talked. All night. It was awesome. I didn't sleep on the way to the concert. Minneapolis is at least a three hour drive, maybe four. I forget. Anyway, we got to the show and the opening bands, there were three of them I think, were just...well, annoying. One of them was pretty good, one was mediocre, and one was pretty terrible. It took way too long for Paramore to get on stage. But when they did, they lit that shit up. It was totally awesome. Honestly one of the best shows I've ever been to. (Only, seeing them on the Honda Civic Tour last summer was roughly 200 times better. That show ruled my world.) The thing I remember most about the Minneapolis show is that they played I Caught Myself. And I smiled a lot because of that aforementioned girl. I spent most of the concert wishing she would have been there with me. Which is silly. But I was totally enamored with her already, even though we had just met. She has that kind of affect on most people, I think. I remember her texting me after the show, and just being happy about life. I fell asleep on the way back, totally content with life and Paramore and everything. It was good until the two in the backseat got all bitchy with us in the front. Oh well. All three of them are irrelevant now. Not that girl though, she's still totally relevant. And so is Paramore. Good things man, good things.

Anyway, as much as I'm sure that no one wants to hear me gush about lame stuff for three pages...wait, does that sentence make any sense?
...
...
..
.
Yeah, no, it doesn't. But anyway, I'm going to go to bed I think. I don't have much to blog about, and to be honest, well, okay, maybe I like gushing but it's dumb and I'm self-concious.

Or I could talk about my weird ass dreams....hmm. Next time.
Next time.
[Insert snarky comment-challenge here. As in 'yeah, spam this blog!' or 'yeah, comment on that!' or 'YOUR FACE']

Yelling Bird is the softest bird. Also rape-iest

Because I was bored, and because I got 1-uped into blogging tonight, I decided to find as many of those "30 day challenges" that I could. I found a Paramore one. So...that's cool.

Day 1 - Your favourite Paramore album
This is a hard question because each official studio record means something else to me on any day. But, if I had to pick one, I'd pick Brand New Eyes. And here's why. The opening track, Careful, is the main reason why I'm sitting in the exact situation I'm in right now. If I hadn't had had Careful to connect to, I wouldn't have worked up the nerve to talk to Emily. "You can't be too careful anymore/when all that is waiting for you/won't come any closer/you've got to reach out a little more". It just spoke to me. I always noted that Careful told me to pursue Emily, Brick by Boring Brick cautioned me to not let love blind me, and The Only Exception told the story of that love I should caution. It sounds contradictory, I know. But it wasn't. I still listen to that album because it just speaks to me moreso than most other albums. No matter if I'm happy, sad, emo, apathetic...I can always feel emotion in that album. I can always relate it to something and be mostly happy about it. I have an emotional connection with the album that I don't have with the others, if nothing else because of timing. But, you know, things happen a certian way cos they're supposed to, sometimes.

I can't promise I'll stick to Paramore. There's some other neat ones. Top fives and the picture challenge (that I won't do cos I'm a hipster....or will I?) and some other neat stuff. I just needed a catalyst for today's post. I was thinking of doing one of those "random facts" posts where I just list 295823498 different random things about me. Buuuut I didn't. And, based on my audience, there wouldn't be a whole lot of point. There's no point telling someone something they already know. Espcially if it's a lot of somethings. I do appreciate the comments though...hmm.

Okay, okay. One fun fact of the day.
-I'm currently listening to country in my car.

Hey, you might not think that's a very good fact, but it is. My speakers play Seether, Paramore, and rokk stuff. I am hardcore.
Sometimes.

I guess I don't have much to say at the moment. I wasn't planning on blogging tonight. And I can't just make stuff up cos I'm pretty happy lately. Life's pretty fucking good. It's not perfect, but...eh. It's the best it will get. And I'm okay with that.

Well, I can't get to a point where I can type and my shoulder blade doesn't hurt (it's weird) so I'm going to give up now. Next time I'll have a better post.

I'm right where I should be, don't try to fix me

[^Lyrics by 10 Years. "Fix Me"]


I had an idea driving home from Milwaukee last night. I was going to blog about different things I took away from my relationships. What did I learn, who did I become, how am I different? Part of me wants to throw this idea out of the window. But, eh. I might as well. The part of me that doesn't want to do it, is the part of me that was crabby when I got to work today. It's the part of me that immediately blamed one of my roommates when I found my dog locked in the bathroom. It's the more cynical part of me that thinks the whole idea is retarded. Oh well. Fuck that guy, fuck 'em right in the ear.

First of all, I was 14 the first time I was in a relationship, and, subsequently, the first time I had sex. It's a little disappointing really. But I digress. My relationship with April was...well, it was gross. I was part of "that" couple. You know, both kind of gross and trashy? That was us. I was a gangsta g and she was just a trashy slut. She was dumb too. Like, no, seriously, she was dumber than a bag of inbred hammers. I swear to christ. So, firstly, from her, I learned that I like girls that are at least somewhat intelligent. I formed a more honed in opinion of the girl that I want to be with in the long run. The smart, funny, attentive, non-phsyco (by the way, I'm so bad at spelling that word, spell check can't even figure out what the fuck I'm talking about) girlfriend.

What I really learned from April is that I can do better. We were dysfunctional. I couldn't trust her. She taught me what to look for in a girl by being the completely wrong girl for me. The first time we broke up, she got a new girlfriend and tried to make me the other girl. What is that I don't even...She taught me that the world doesn't stop at 15, especially for love or, rather, "love". She taught me that I needed to be more open minded and look around...for the right girl. She taught me not to be who I was when I was 14. A little shady, a little gangster, a lot powerless in my relationship. Thanks to her, I realized that I can't completely give the power to the woman in my life. It's not healthy. Also, it causes drama. I hate fighting with people, I hate relationship drama (not like, legit problems, though I wouldn't say I like those. I'm talking about stupid shit you'd expect a crazy, attention-starved 15 year old to start).

I broke up with April cos I was sick of her shit. But I was single for all of one month before I realized the real reason I broke up with her. I was in love with someone else. At least, I think I was. I'm pretty sure I was. Anyway, then there was the first of a string of heterosexual females that would eventually take over my life. Rora was the complete opposite of April. She was super intelligent, full of life, funny, we had similar interests...and she was independent. And, to an extent, I think that's what killed us. She was TOO independent. Anything I said was brought back to some psuedo-feminist bullshit logic debate that I didn't want to start. I wasn't trying to oppress her, I wasn't trying to argue or take away her rights. Sometimes I wanted to do things my way, and that wasn't good for her. I realize, now, that I entered a completely Rora-dominated relationship. I remember good times, staying up way too late on the phone and having fun. Thinking about intimate things makes me feel awkward. Not like, oh man that's my ex...but more like "ugh what is this I don't even..." Apparently, I just don't like thinking about it. So I won't.

My friendship and relationship with Rora made me into more of the person I am today. She formed a lot of my musical tastes, made me into a thinker. Made me think that if I don't say "i'm sorry" to bad news or probe someone for what's wrong with them, what's on their mind, i'm a bad friend. She made me feel guilty for not particularly thinking anything, especially not thinking about her. To an extent, she gave me a complex. Not that I didn't already think a lot, but I think she made it run deeper, made my soul bleed for thoughts and guilt. It was like becoming a catholic all over again.

I think, most of all, she made me realize that if I have a different opinion of something than someone else, I'm going to be judged for it. If it differs, I'm weird and wrong and being judged. Many a band have fallen to my wayside because they were deemed unworthy of music. I didn't realize music was so objective. She made me see that. She made me hide in my shell, afraid to really say what I'm thinking. I conformed. If she said I'd like something, then I did. If she said I wouldn't, I'd never get the chance to give it a chance. That's how it worked. I realize now that I was dealing with a control freak. Everything had to be within her grasp. She had to be the mastermind. I quit smoking for her. I didn't drink often. I didn't swear unless I was angry. My grammer and typing improved (not a bad thing). I stopped listening to Fallout Boy and Avril Lavinge and would have never touched a T.Swift cd because she's wrong. They're wrong and they suck and that's that.

When Rora left me, I almost self-destructed. I've talked to people who knew me during and learned that people were worried. I look back on the three years, yes, three years that she kept me on a just-the-right-length-leash and see that I was a walking zombie. I didn't care. I tried somewhat to get into dating again, but got burned each time. Who was there to pick up the peices? Who was there to show me that she had moved on but could still pencil me in? Who gave me a complex that I carry to this day with Emily? Rora was. Someday, her power-hunger, ego-maniacal possiveness and inability to concede to incorrectness will be the death of her. Make no mistake, I don't wish harm upon her...not anymore. Not that I could until I was liberated, that is. It's hard to hate someone that keeps you so close, yet so far away. Even when you get kicked out of your own dorm for your 18th birthday. Even when all of your birthday's get destroyed in the war path. Even then, it's hard to escape the leash.

The girls between Rora and Emily aren't important enough to denote here. Emily is the important one. And I know that that very sentence makes her cringe. Maybe she should skip on ahead. Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn't read this at all... Emily was a breath of fresh air in the smog that was the grip of Rora. She was so unbelieveably perfect it's hard to stomach. My ideal girl? Not some bleach blonde whore with herpes and the education of a 5th grader. This was a girl from a small town, very quiet and shy. This was a girl that was sheilded off from love, from people, from everything, but a girl I was drawn to nonetheless. This is a girl that didn't discourage me from smoking or drinking or staying up late and sleeping in until noon (that was also looked down upon by Rora). This was a girl who's daddy didn't buy her everything and hand it to her. This was a girl that was down to earth and humble, yet confidant (to an extent). This is a girl who could brought out the best of me. When I look into her eyes, I hold two things to be self-evident. Number one is that if she is speaking, she is not lying to me. Number two is that if I am speaking, I am not hiding from her. She's the first and only person to kick down the door and tell me "hey...be who you are. Fuck everyone else." This is a girl who sometimes doesn't shower or put on deoterant cos she's lazy. This is a girl who is pretty messy sometimes, and considering how clean I am, I don't care. This is a girl who really was like me. A girl who I believe loved me, and to an extent, still does. (Don't misconstrue that statement, please. There are different levels of love. I don't mean to say anything of a relationship sort. That's not the implication).

From Emily, I learned who I really want in my life. Both in a girlfriend and a friend. I don't need someone to tell me what I like, what I want. I need someone that will listen to me cry at 3 in the morning when I'm being irrational and scared because of a complex that was bestowed upon me. I need a girl with a kind smile and a good head on her shoulders to set me straight, but be gentle. I need a girl that won't judge me, about anything really. I need someone I can be myself around, completely and totally. Someone I can trust, even when I'm being irrational and am convinced that she hates me and wants to be away from me as much as possible. Even when I'm sure she's hiding things...I just have to remember what's real, and what's in my head. I have the best, most understanding, intelligent, fucking hilarious, most stubborn, youngest, enabling, most awesome, and, quite frankly, most beautiful (inside and out), best friend ever. And the rest of you can suck it.

Well. Those are some paragraphs! Wow, didn't think I had that much talking in me. And be forewarned that this is edited. I had lots more to say. TL;DR let's review.
From April, I got sensability and standards.
From Rora, I got uptightness and a complex about trust and people abandoning me.
From Emily, I got freedom.

Here is where I put a witty follow up. Here is where I write something sweet and heartfelt about Emily. Maybe put some hint that will prompt her to leave a comment or chat with me about it IRL. Something that will attempt to get her attention. Here's the poor me sentence. Here is where I bid you adieu because I am goddamn tired. Good night.

[And here is where I ask...is it illegal to say that I miss your face? Is that something I can't do? Because I do.]

Parablogging

Too tired for a lyrical title now. Next time.

The blags that are "drafts" will stay that way so they are not seen by other eyes. As I should have done with most all of these blags. A lot of them are stupid and pointless and just me talking about my terrible, awful life that is full of people I don't deserve and holy shit I am whiney because I suck and everyone should hate me because I do.

That...that might be a little too close to what I actually sound like.

Anyway. This is mostly just because someone told me to, again. I have stuff to say but I'm really tired (it's only 3am), and I'm setting an alarm because I want to start getting up before the crack of 1.

Leave me with some kind of clue it's not a dream

[Lyrics by Paramore. You have to tell me what song. No Google.]

I got told to write a new blag. I'm not sure I have much to say. But this is the internet, and this is me, so I suppose that I shall write and write until I can write no more.

My thigh is sore. That sounds really giggity-worthy, but it's not. Stupid genes and work pants and rubbing and ow.

Random fact: I like the smell of smoke on my hands. Like, after I have a cigarette, I like the smell it leaves. Don't ask me why. I'm not really a huge fan of how smoke smells in the first place. I don't have a problem with it, obviously, but I'm really extraordinarily self-consious about my smell and therefore don't like to smell like smoke cos some people loathe it.

I could sit here and talk about my feelings. That would take up roughly the entire internet. Truth be told, I don't know what to say right now. I know that as soon as I turn off the lights and close my eyes, I'll think of a million and a half things to say. Maybe this is the part where I just let my hands do the talking and leave my brain out of the equation. Maybe this is the part where I talk about how confused I am on somedays, how sad I am, but how I've been doing my absolute best to put everything at the back of my mind and make everything okay. Maybe this is the part where I talk about how terrible my awful life is.

Maybe this is the part where I say things that make it awkward. Things that will never get brought up again. Except, of course, when I end up rereading this blag and wondering, probably outloud, what the fuck I was thinking.

Let's begin.

Here's the part where I mix in some inflating of narcissistic feelings. Not my own. I'm much too self-loathing to be narcissistic. Or maybe that's just what I think. I love attention. I love when gorgeous girls give me attention. Even though I know it means nothing, I mean nothing, I still like it. Why shouldn't I? I get a free pass to flirt with cute girls and it's innocent. What could be better?

I'm trying to figure out how much of that is sarcasm. Part of it is cool because...well, it is. My friends know I'm not going to rape them and the boys get all pissy (some of them) because I can make almost legitimate passes at girls that may or may not have some sort of deeply hidden, mixed up feelings for me. I don't want to ruin friendships and burn bridges, though. I'm just having fun. Mostly. I can't say I'm not a little confused. Maybe even a tiny bit worried. I think it's all for naught though.

I push things into the back of my mind instead of thinking about them, sometimes. Sometimes it's hard for me to think about not seeing the most gorgeous set of green eyes I've ever seen first thing in the morning. Maybe I have a problem. A severe case of seperation anxiety. I'm worse than the fucking dog. Sometimes, 'I'm getting better' just doesn't cut it. Not that it's not a good thing to progress. It's just hard. Internet, how would YOU feel if you lived with a truly beautiful and amazing person and you had to worry about loosing that person? Yeah, you wouldn't like it either. It's rare to find someone so smart, so humble, so egotistical, so smarmy, so caring, so funny, and so gorgeous. It makes me want to be a better person because I am not one that deserves such a person. I am not a person that deserves close friends that I can rely on. But, by the grace of god, I have them. And I will do right by them.

I know that I have more to say, but hopefully this is sufficent enough for now. I know I'm kind of in mid thought but...I can barely keep my eyes open. In the morning, dear blag, I shall return. And by 'morning' I mean, probably around 1ish if I'm lucky. I also just realized that I have a couple of blags that are labeled as "drafts". Hmm. Must see what these are. Updates tomorrow.

Pain so familiar and close to the heart

[^Lyrics from Without You by Breaking Ben]

Why is it that sometimes it feels like my entire world is falling apart, for no good reason at all. It's not like anything even happened. It's just the same paranoia that creeps back into my mind. The same paranoia that I joked about just today. Why? Why does it keep coming back? It's not fair. I'm trying to be happy. I'm trying to have fun with my friends and keep every one happy and not ruin anything. I thought I was doing a good job.

So why do I feel like there are tears welling behind my eyes? Why is there a feeling in the pit of my stomache that just tells me how ready I am to break down? I hate it. I want it to stop. I'm trying to think happy thoughts, read funny things, see happy pictures. It's just sliding off to the side like it doesn't matter. It's hitting me, making a valid attempt at life, and then falling to the wayside.

Just...just fucking smile. Once. Just once. Think. Think of you're favorite people and how much fun you have with your new social life.

The sad thing is...pysching myself up like that just makes me more sad because I'm an egotisical jerk. I can't even validate that claim. It just sounded like a good thing to say. I am kind of egotiscical though. Sometimes. That first sentence doesn't even make sense, really. What I meant to say was that usually I fail at making myself happy, somehow. Sometimes, I just can't. I don't know how I make it worse, but I do. I think when it comes to that point, it's mostly just frustration because I feel sad in the first place.

I've got someone standing 10 feet away that would listen to all of this. So why am I moping here and typing all of this? Is it because I don't really know what's wrong with me? Mostly. Also, I ended up making an ass of myself a week or so ago and ended up drunk and crying at 3am. No one wants to deal with that. It was pretty clear that neither of us wanted to be dealing with it at that time. Alcohol is a depressant though. And that's my excuse.

There's always an excuse with me. Because, why wouldn't there be?

I think right now I'm frustrated because I thought I was past this. I thought I was past hiding so I could bitch and moan to myself. I just want to know the trigger. Maybe I can figure it out. Let's see.

1. I still can't tell if I'm rebounding on my other lady friend or not. Somedays I feel like I need to see her and talk to her, some days I wish I would have never started talking to her at all. Am I rebounding or do I like her? That is the question. Maybe the greater question is...does she like me like they say, or are they all wrong? That's almost as frustrating. I still don't think there's enough evidence to think she likes me, but then again, I refused to believe Emily liked me until after there was overwhelming evidence to prove it. I think I didn't believe it until like..maybe a week before we got together. Maybe.

2. There's a reason why I think she's a rebound. I'm still in love with someone else. Sometimes, everything is 100% okay. I mean, I'm never thrilled that we're not together, but lately it doesn't hurt as much. Not to be confused to me getting over her/falling out of love with her. Other times, I'm paranoid of her every move. Does she resent me? Is there someone else? Does she still trust me and want to talk to me? Am I being too overbearing? Should I go away so she can have time alone? There are just so many questions falling into my paranoia. I am proud though that I've been able to answer those questions on some days [no, not last time I asked, yes, maybe!, depends how overbearing I'm being].

3. I hate my job and wish that I didn't work at 2am on the weekends. I mean, thank god it's only 2 days a week...but it still hinders my social life (which is budding lately. People want to hang out with me..?) Also, I work with the lady from #1 at least once a week so that's...interesting. Hello sexual tension.

4. I naturally hate myself and apparently am masochistic enough to wish to be miserable. I really need to stop that.

5. I hate winter and, moreso than anything else, snow. I want spring. Late winter depression? Not likely, but still. Cabin fever and all that.

Okay, now I'm just fishing. I don't know. I've never known. I just want to know so I can fix it. I'm tired of being in "one of those moods". I'm tired of having to apologize for stupid tear-stained conversations that come out of nowhere. I'm just tired of doing this. I just want to be normal.

I love the sound of Spring.

Been meaning to do a new blog, but every time I write something, I delete it.

A lot of my blogs lately have been writen before I go to bed. Not physically written, but in my head. Before I go to sleep.

That should terrify you.

Right now, though, I'm actually kind of tired. So this is a warning blog. I'm not sure what's going to spill out into the next one, but it should be good. And by good, I mean it's definitely something to skip. Probably.

I guess that makes me a jerk with a heartache

[Lyrics by Ani DiFranco]

I don't have a real blog post, really. I just wanted to use that line. Though I did want to note that...

that i'm tired and going to sleep. I could actually blog about things and say the things that are on my mind but...eh, who really cares? I don't even care anymore. It's the same thing over and over again. "Hey, remember that time this happened?" "Remember when we used to do these things?" "Do you miss me/this/that/whatever?"

Yes, it was fun, no.

My biggest fear is that someday I'm going to be living out of my car because I'll have convinced myself that everyone is truly better with me gone. The worst part is that I'm afraid that I'll be proven right. No one will care.

Part of me thinks I'm being disagreeable. Part of me thinks I'm being reasonable.

Most of me is just tired.
Tired of this game.
Tired of making myself feel like shit.
Tired of making the most important person in my life feel helpless to help and frustrated and annoyed.

Just tired.

I'm so pathetic/you made me finally see it

[^Lyrics by Evans Blue...quite honestly it was this song or Kesha. So dont' take offense.]

Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder...what if I was the kind of person that wasn't...well, me?

What if I wasn't paranoid. What if I didn't think everyone wanted nothing more than to get rid of me, to get away from me, to forget my existence?

What if I didn't think that I made life kind of shitty for the person that matters most to me?

What if I didn't have to talk about "how well i'm doing" or "how hard i've been trying"? What if I just woke up in the morning and hung out with my favorite person and maybe some other awesome people and lived fucking life?

Maybe if I was a different person, if I was this person, people would like me more. Maybe I wouldn't be as clingy and self-loathing as I am today. Maybe I could actually look at myself in the mirror and not cringe.

Maybe I wouldn't have to fight the urge to post emo/hating lyrics to websites. (and I don't, large in part because I don't want anyone to think i'm targeting them with lyrics. I'm almost always targeting me.)

The truth is, I have been doing well lately. Really well. I've been pretty happy and enjoying life and friends and even, on occasion, work. Today, everything rushed back for a few hours. So much so that I had to leave. Only for a short while though. It wasn't deabilitating. That was refreshing. It was just me being me. Seeing things, hearing things, being around things and taking them out of proportion. And not even that, it was me being paranoid. Really. Honestly. It makes me sick. I almost literally make me sick.

But it's better now. I just...vegged for a few hours. Just stopped and collected myself, then came home and tried to smile some more. And even though I could have sworn that I had done something wrong, I convinced myself that I was full of shit. I didn't want to start something. I didn't even want to ask because I felt like I was blowing things out of proportion again.

I really want to write something about how much I really and truly appreciate the feedback on that christmas present I made. I want to say something slyly but...I also just want to throw it out there. I means the world to me. And, that's a little stupid because it's just a 'thanks that was pretty cool.' But it meant so much.

This is why we -can- have nice things.

And someday, I'll realize that.