and i type and type and type, then delete it all, and start over again. and then i realize: i'm sick of it. i'm sick of ranting on and on and on about what's going on with my life, and how much it sucks. i don't want to stop writing, since i actually find it a little enjoyable, but i've long since grown tired of this subject matter in particular.
it wasn't like this before. i used to write about other things. but ever since my life began to go downhill, it's been a torrential downpour of angst and depression.
i've said again and again that i'd stop, but i never listened to what i said myself. but now, i'm hoping it's different. now, i'm actually disgusted of it, can't stand to do it again. my fingers and my mind just won't let me complete a whole entry if it's centered around me. i write a paragraph, maybe two, and i hit a dead end. so now, i'm going to try and change that.
starting today, things will be different. i won't let my mind stagnate into the poor state that it's currently in. my body aches from sputtering out cry after cry for pity. tears wrought from these eyes taste bitter. i accomplish nothing by complaining about what's wrong with me.
my mind wandering once again, i began to think about how one would behave in certain situations. and while i am not in this particular situation, i wondered: if you love somebody, but know that they don't love you, or only like you as a friend, then what should you do?
telling them could result in a lot of pain. if they can't return the feelings, then a sense of alienation can sever what insubstantial ties you have to each other. it may be off of your chest, but what then? is it really so much better to let them carry the knowledge, than to bear it upon your shoulders? depending on certain things, telling them could in fact worsen things.
but if you keep it to yourself? to see them day to day, talk to them, become close to them to an extent, and then never to really find what you're looking for -- that's bad too, isn't it? instead of thrusting that dagger into another's flesh, you're letting it slice you apart from the inside.
it's possible to hold it in and never mention it, and still have a good friendship. it might not be easy for everybody, but it definitely is possible. but perhaps that can just be attributed to confusion. for somebody who has never felt true love, a mere infatuation can seem like all the world. a simple "i think she's pretty" might be interpreted as "i wish we could be together for the rest of our lives."
but what to do with those heartbroken people, who will never fulfill that desire? is there any way to let them down gently, or is this just one of those tougher parts of life that one must learn to deal with? as optimistic as some people may be, there's no denying that life will suck at times.
to be honest, i actually began thinking about all this when thinking back to a problem a friend of mine had. she had a crush on another friend, but when she told him, he said he couldn't return the feelings and then shut himself off from her. i was not too close to that other friend, so perhaps i may be somewhat biased toward the first friend -- the one with the crush -- but i think that the other guy was being too blunt. i know that, were i in his position, i would have been much more subtle about it.
but maybe that's what makes it so hard for those lovesick people. there is a way to let them down without destroying them, but the people who are able to do so are few and far between.
if it sounds like i'm stumbling upon new ideas as i explain my current ones, it's because i am. i really just adlib the whole thing. i have a seed that i start with, and then work my way up from there, branching out in various directions about various subjects. it's not very often that i have everything that i want to say exactly planned out, and i kind of like it that way. it feels more natural to say what i'm thinking at the moment than to carefully organize each idea and then present it all in a flawless speech. that's what we do in real life, isn't it? why not here as well?
the end result of my improvised writing is that it ends up being a little messy. as i do not take much time to think before i write, nor do i proofread it. i want it to be unadulterated, straight from my mind to the monitor to the rest of the internet.
there is perhaps a certain vulnerability involved when i write the way i do. without any forethought or revision, i might inadverdently say something i don't mean to be said. but such is the price one pays for pure, unmodified thought. you can't show your whole mind to everybody while expecting them to avoid all the trouble spots.
how ironic it is for me to expatiate about my vagrant thought, while all along such an explanation was a trip through my mind in itself. but that's life.
that's me.
sometimes something will happen that you didn't quite expect. find a twenty-dollar bill in the pocket of a jacket, talk to a friend and learn something about them that you never knew before, and other similar things.
life is funny like that.
and sometimes you'll know that something is happening all along, but it just doesn't really hit you until it reaches a certain point, and then you stand back and say "wow" in astonishment.
life is funny like that.
and other times, one person's influence on another person will directly affect your relationship with that other person, even if the three of you together had no special bond.
life is funny like that.
but on rare occassions, all of those things will happen. and all of them will happen in a way that you didn't want to believe would happen; a way that you hoped was something that was left to the "other guy" -- not you. a friend's sudden abandonment of life, turning to drugs to relieve problems; a sister's corruption that has slowly but surely been creeping through her for so many months; a father's wicked nature that has twisted said sister into being the wretched soul that she is.
and you'll reflect on all of it, and wonder why it all had to happen to you. you'll look at everybody else around you and see such nice and comfortable lives, and then your eyes fall back upon your own life and you'll see nothing but the barren plains, rent by the savage beasts of fate. it's so wickedly ironic and excoriating that you could swear that it's some greater power playing some disgusting, twisted joke on you.
yeah. life is funny like that.
"how many people have gazed up at this star? and how many people has this star shined down upon? before you pass judgment on such issues, you must contemplate these questions and their answers."
WARNING: Disconnected. No data coming from server.
i liked things the way they were before. the simple life. i didn't have to worry about anything except the minimal amount of schoolwork i had, and i had my gamer buddies to talk to. i didn't have this journal, but i didn't need it; nothing was really boiling around in my head, at least nothing that i really needed to get out of my system.
but now more and more connections are being made, and the more i make, the harder it is to maintain each individual one. it's growing and eroding all at once. i can't do everything with the utmost care and patience, but that's what's expected of me. i'm juggling with caltrops. every time a ball falls from the sky and lands in my hand, the sharp tips cut into my palms. but i can't just drop those caltrops and say "enough!" i have to bear all of the pain, all while making sure that none of them will slip and land on my foot.
everything is changing, and i don't like it. as good as it can be sometimes, i would much rather have the simple pleasures than wade through this bog trying to dig up nuggets of gold.
is it possible? can i go back to that world forgotten, or is this change inevitable? some people seem to be able to withstand it, but everybody is an actor. nobody is going to reveal their inner machinations, at least not publicly. day by day, who knows what everybody else is thinking? they could be pondering the meaning of life, or they could be wondering when they can get home and kick back.
no matter how much people try to comfort me and make me feel better about the state of things, there will always be that underlying, subconscious thought: i wish things could be like they were back then. i will always regret having grown up, and i don't doubt for a second that i'm going to hang onto my childhood memories for dear life.
disconnection. the packets are being dropped one by one, and the data flow dwindles to but a few mere bytes per second. things start to slow down, and eventually just get cut off entirely. when it happens, though, there's nothing that can be done. when it's a server-side problem, you can only pray that it's over soon enough, and you can get back up to speed.
my mind is deadlocked. i can't make sense of what i'm doing right now. i think there are some things i need to take care of, but i can't figure out what they are or how i'm going to go about fixing them. the harder i struggle to find out what it is i should be thinking about, the farther i drift away.
this is not the first time i've mentioned such a feeling. in fact, the intervals between which i feel it grow smaller every time. i'm stricken by this mental rot more and more often, and the effects become more potent. i don't know if there's a specific cause, or if i'm just gradually wearing away. in any case, it's getting worse as time wears on, and i don't know what to do about it.
at times like this, i want to retreat. i want a comfortable little niche i can slip into and hide in until i feel better. but i don't have anything of the sort. not even my own room is a haven from the world. i have nowhere to run. i can only hope that the battering winds will leave me with enough life force to drag myself on for a couple more decades.
toying with my mind. it's one of the things i absolutely can't stand. people like to do it so often, and i will outwardly express my disapproval, but they don't stop. there have been times when i have done something extreme in reaction. on one occassion i reached out and clamped my hand around a girl's neck because she kept messing around with me. most other situations have not been as bad, but it was not the only time it ever got that bad.
and now they're doing it again. now i can feel that anger seething and boiling inside me, and i can tell that if it goes on for just a little longer, i'm going to snap and do something unnecessarily violent again. it's coming. i know it.
but that's how i deal with it. i tell them to stop, and they don't listen. the only way i can really get to them is by physical force. it's the only thing that will make them pay attention to what i'm saying, and just maybe get an idea of how frustrating it is for me.
a room full of cheerful, laughing people; i, locked outside in the bitter rain and furious winds -- that's what it's like. being excluded from what is really going on annoys the hell out of me. i keep getting the urge to swing my fist and break their nose, but i restrain it. in restraining it, however, i only build that rage up more and more. sooner or later, somebody's going to get hurt, be it me or somebody else.
it's not that i want to be aware of every single little thing that's going on around me. but to be surrounded by friends, who for no reason endlessly goad me on, and then to be ignored when i try to ask what it is -- i seriously want to punch them. i seriously want to hurt them, make them feel the pain, know how angry i am with them for being so stupid. forget friendships. when they're acting the way they are, i want only for them to be injured.
to set things straight: as far as i know and believe, this habit is not derived from loneliness. i don't get angry and do the things i do just because i want to be in on what's happening. i do it because, to me, it's almost as if they're mocking me. they all know it, and i don't, and they're just teasing me with it, poking and prodding me with it but quickly drawing it back when i reach out to take it from them. i hate it.
there are situations in which i can excuse people for doing exactly the kind of stuff that sets me off, but in this case they should have known better. they should have known that their behavior was digging into my flesh like a trowel into the earth. i can't forgive them for that.
words cannot even begin to describe the anger and irritation i feel when people subject me to their cruel yet meaningless jokes. i can feel the switch in my head flip, and adrenaline begins to flood my body as i get ready to tear into them with my bare hand. i am very fortunate that i have as much patience as i do. were it not for that paper-thin wall of resistance, i could probably be in a lot of trouble right now for having done some rather brutal things to innocent people.
do i have an anger management problem? probably. but i'm sure as hell not going to go to some psychologist to fix it. to kill that part of me is to break an arm, or a leg. it may not be a very pleasant aspect, but it's still one of those defining traits that makes me who i am. i'll be damned if i'm going to seek professional help just to avoid throwing the occassional punch at my friends.
i've got a friend whom i don't really have much in common with -- at least, not anymore.
way, way back when, we used to be good friends because we liked a lot of the same things. video games, drawing stupid little comics, things like that. over time, though, our interests grew farther apart. now i mostly just mess around on the computer and play some gamecube games. he's moved on from drawing silly stick figures to actual anime-style characters, and he doesn't even own a gamecube.
so why are we still friends? i know of quite a few instances in which friends grew apart because they didn't have any common interests anymore. me and my friend don't, but we're still good friends. why is that?
or there could just be no reason at all. sometimes one should not ask why two people are friends; sometimes one should ask why they aren't.
i've known this person for many years now. i've been with him in school for every single year starting from the third grade. and although we're far from being best friends, we are nevertheless friends. we used to have a lot in common, and would blow away time like dust off the cover of an old book long forgotten. times have changed; we've changed. things aren't quite the same as they used to be, but we can still have some good times.
a lot of change has taken place in my life since i had met him and befriended him. not all the changes were good -- in fact, most were bad -- but i've done my best to adapt. i have been able to keep up, for the most part. but occassionally i'll find myself wishing things were different. that feeling has been coming up more and more often as of late, causing me great concern. i'm sure that everybody feels it at some point in their life, but i just wonder if, for me, that feeling will ever go away forever. if, for me, i'll finally find the perfect setting for my life, and be content.
