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| 06:38am 20/01/2006 |
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Change. Change, for good or bad, hurts. Change in relationship status from personal to just friends, from close to close by, from lover to once-loved, really sucks. This morning I had a conversation with my ex-girlfriend, who I am clinging onto as a friend as she is to me, but it is painful. She decides to make a lj of her own, and I mention my old one. Bad idea, as I deleted a lot of entries that I couldn't bear to be out there anymore, partly because I onced convinced myself I never wanted to be reminded of our time together and partly because I had to deal with some people that I was not friendly with that could use it to their advantage. Some entries still remained that are deeply personal and profound to probably only me. But she brought them up, awash with curiousity while flooding me with emotions I'd rather bury. Like the times I gave up on dating and women and me coming to terms that I would die alone. My prediction and fear all rolled into one. And she asked me when did I start giving love a chance again, and I told her several times in general and one time in specific, when someone changed my outlook. Who? I am a moron. Could I be more piney and angsty? Guess not, because I think I set a new low for myself on that one. I think I am swearing off women again though, as I ruined that relationship and I am mostly responsible for her leaving me in the first place. She was the first one to show me love back, and I messed it up. I may be meant for love, but love is not in the cards for me. If that bleakness changed, that would not suck. |
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| Ruh roh |
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| 10:18am 03/05/2005 |
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Just noticed that the friend in question knows my lj name, but I don't remember giving that out. Too late now, my entry is in the ether.
CRAPtacular...
::inserts foot, and gun, in mouth::
I figured I'd somehow shoot myself in the foot on this one, I just didn't think I would have my foot in my mouth at the time |
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| Eh, a post |
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| 11:03pm 09/05/2004 |
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mood:  discontent music: Furious Angels - Rob Dougan
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Haven't posted in a while. Never really felt a need to. Nothing new in my life. Nothing really changing. I am in a ruttish period in my life. My hopefully future boss said something along the lines "Do you know what a rut is? A rut is a grave you dig yourself." It is really hitting home as I start to think about my life as of late. I still love and am in love and lust after the same people, I don't do anything to reallly improve my lovelife situation, I put off a lot what needs to be done concerning schooling, and I hate my job and dislike too many people there to be comfortable anymore. Part of this is I speak when I should shut up and cower when an opportunity comes along in matters of the heart. I try too hard to be "typical guy" when the dirty humor isn't always me talking, but what everyone expects me to stay like. I can't find the edges of the masks I hide behind so I can look in a mirror or let others see me. I am going to go on an introspective journey soon. If you see me and I don't say anything at all, just use body language or write to you, I am trying to go somewhere out of my comfort zone, if just a little.
I don't know where I am going or what I am doing. Thoughts of my death bounce around the inside of my head like a teddy bear in a dryer. I only see two avenues now, change or death. I am afraid of change and unsure what I can and can't change and how to change. The only other option is back the way I came, and that is pretty much how I am traveling now. The past haunts me with ghosts of former friends and loved ones taunting me to call them, even though I know that opening those lines of communication, when I know that I can never receive the expressions of caring in return for my own, will just create new wounds on my soul as well as opening the old ones.
There are several people that I care for, and no matter how much I reach out to them, I mess it up somehow, and all my effort is wasted. If I knew I could be "just friends" with some of these women, I would in a heartbeat, but too many times I fall for them, and the rough patches and bites that friends would overlook just seem to go past all my defenses and straight to my heart.
If I had a chance to do a lot of this journal entry over I would. I am not going to put forth the effort because I want to be able to look at this later and see that this was what eas truly just pouring out of my mind, without thought, word choice, or censorship. I am in a rut that my friends as much as they say they care, might as well be helping me dig the grave. |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| That's what friends are for. |
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| 11:54pm 30/03/2004 |
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mood:  blank
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Yeah, last post my ass. I guess it was just me seeking some attention so I would know that some people still care. I feel like kind of a loser, but I am glad because it got me out of whatever funk I was in. Depression can kind of creep up on you like that. I don't think I am clinically depressed, or else my moods swing at such odd times that manic-depressive does not even describe it. I don't know and I am okay with not knowing. I guess I can take a cue from "Eternal Sunshine" and say that sometimes ignorance truly is bliss. I won't go about like a crazy trying to brain damage out my bad memories or anything, but I'll absorb them and grow from them and make them a part of who I am, better or worse. I sound like a freaking self-help book. I guess that is what having a journal IS about. Not as much letting other people seeing who you are inside, because there aren't that many people who I would want to read this and those that do read this already know how I truly am beneath all the masks I try to hide behind. It is about recording who and what you are so you can see yourself better, like wiping all the steam off a mirror after you get out of a shower. I do not like me all the time and sometimes I wonder why other people like me. I then mentally slap myself and say, "Who gives a damn why they like you. They like you! Don't think it through!" That is my problem. I am the brainy analytical person and the highly emotional, sensitive, not always in control person at the same time. I try to analyze why I let my emotions govern me, then I get emotional because I overly think about things. WTF, mate?
To all my friends how I rely upon to set me straight...thank you. To all the girls in my life, and each one of you know who you are, I love you all dearly in ways it is had to describe, even when I am candid with myself like I am now. I wish I could kiss each one of you passionately just once. I am not going to try to analyze myself on that one. Just chalk it up to being a polyamorous, affectionate guy who thinks that love is not just a verb, but a noun. |
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| Last entry |
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| 02:01am 30/03/2004 |
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This might be my last entry for a while. It has been a while since I updated, and I am tired of writing my thoughts out into pages no one will see. I might as well do it the old fashioned way and get a paper blank journal. I got this account so that I would be able to express myself in words that are hard for me to vocalize. I started this so people would be able to pop inside my head and poke around and get to know me better, as I have this fear of never being understood. I might be clinically depressed, but I don't know and I don't care anymore. No one reads this, ergo no one wants to know me better. As they say in Italy, when everyone is on their mopeds and mototscooters..."Caio." |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| The boy who cried "love" |
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| 01:34pm 23/03/2004 |
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mood: apathetic
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The boy sat alone, quietly in his chair,
Looking at the remnant of his old life on the floor.
Standing swiftly, he kicked his old life,
And then he said, "Love, nevermore."
He shook as the complex emotions
Rushed through him as never before.
He stood in disgust, and with one word,
He spit out his shame and more.
"Love, the trifle, the endless game!
No longer shackeled am I!"
He kicked his old life with devilish grin.
A maniacal sneer, and a sigh.
"You hopeless romantics!
You sad buffoons! You liars, cheaters, and whores!
I was once like you, but no I am not,
For I have not love anymore!"
Taking one last look at himself,
His life, and his location,
He swore an oath, a horrible vow,
That might break love's penetration.
With one mighty scream, he tore his heart out,
And threw it to rest on the floor.
But he yet lived, broken and dead,
To love and be loved no more. |
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| I am a bit peeved |
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| 12:35am 12/03/2004 |
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mood:  annoyed music: Head Like A Hole - NIN
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Lionel is my best friend and my brother by another mother. He asks for my help with computers, which I gladly give.
Problem A:
I am good at computers, most of the time a lot more or a lot less than I think I am.
Problem B:
Lionel's mom has a sick (as in ailing) homebrew that is sooo obsolete
Problem C:
Problem A + Problem B = Problem C...I know how to do some really good tricks on pc's and make them work well. This pc doesn't work right, gets fixed, and then stops working correctly ON THE WAY BACK FROM BEING FIXED AND IT ISN"T EVEN PLUGGED IN YET! When I plug it in it acts wholly different then when it was working right after being repaired. I have even potentially made it worse by snooping around and trying to re-repair the pc.
As a certain beautiful girl who was snagged by my friend while he ignores the rest of his friends would say..."ugh."
Nuff said. I am about to try to swear off women for a good while again, as I feel I didn't put enough effort into it last time and I feel that stopping the thoughts of loneliness by stopping my overt and introverted attraction to the fairer sex might do me some good.
Well, whatever...night |
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theinsideme's journal