This is how I happen.
Everybody should be sad all of the time. It would save me a lot of trouble.
This entry is going to be filled with drama. The drama you want to scream.
You want to scream out this drama. You want to bloodlet this drama and feel it pierce everyone around you. This drama is cruel, jagged, and it's... it's drama. It's fucking drama.
You don't want to lie about this drama. This drama is naked and gruesome. You stare at this drama because it's my brain on drugs on the sidewalk just baking for everyone to see. This drama is your drama because it is my drama.
This is communal drama.
This is my own personal drama. It is no one else's. Nobody has a right to my drama, it's only for me to experience.
This drama kills pregnant women and slaughters old men. Old men who give you candy and stories and guilt about everything in the world.
This is my drama and you can't lie about it. You get a feeling in your stomach. It grows and it grows and it feels just like you miss someone. But it's just the drama.
It's the attachment and the longing for and the desire. It's the ego, it's complete ego and it hurts.
I want to tell the truth about everything in my life just to try to kill this drama. Because I don't know how far it goes. I want to be honest and evil and I'm tired of lying about everything all of the time. This entry just went somewhere I didn't want it to. I thought I'd just rant about Tara because that's all I ever do, even if you don't know I'm doing it.
I want to not be hung up. I want to never talk to her again and be happy about that because I'm the better person who can let go.
This is my sidewalk on drugs baking in the cold.
The truth is
I never got over Tara.
When I say that I cried for four hours and then didn't cry anymore after Kayla, that's absolutely true. What I don't mention is I pouted for the next week or two until I realised I was upset over memories that didn't occur. Like us spending time at best buy. We never were at a best buy together.
My college situation. Only my close friends hear about all of my rejections. There have been 10 of them. Plus a waiting list. Plus a haven't heard from yet from a few of them. Plus Emmanuel saying "OK, join us."
I read for two reasons.
To feel smarter than you.
To feel smarter than I did.
I sometimes think about mathematics when I fuck.
It's awful.
When I was first with Kayla I'd run through powers of 2 because I was under the impression that sex that didn't last a million hours was bad sex.
Whenever I fuck now I think of math because of that.
I suck at art. Seriously. Art is not fucking around in photoshop. At least my fucking around in photoshop is not art.
When I look in a mirror I usually hate what I look like. A year ago I always hated what I looked like. I'm getting better.
I am going to wind up sleeping with a girl that I should not sleep with just to get over Tara. and it'll work. I'll forget about what I felt and pretend I never did. I'll move on.
Irina just asked me to link her to an ex. I felt like I should make up an excuse. I did not. I feel a lot better now. Like I'm not afraid of being judged. Because I already am. I'm tired of making positive impressions. Because positive impressions are called "reliefs". and that's a misleading name.
--
Forget all of that.
--
I'll try again.
Greatest fear:
I used to think it was being alone. It is not. It's that there is no girl out there that is completely compatible with me. I have not found her yet. As of taking off "in a relationship" I have received around 100 messages on OKCupid.
I can not stand people. There are not many fun people. I do not look for very much in a girl.
Honest - ... I have had awful luck with that.
Pretty - Apparently that's not difficult. I have seen a total of 20 girls, and this is including passing on the street, that are of my ideal look. 20 out of over 10,000 teenagers, I'd say. I've somehow managed to date 2 of them. That's GOOD.
Intelligent - That has not been a problem.
Interests - That has bit a bit of a problem.
Location - Minor issue.
Interest in Me - That has been a small problem. That's on me though, probably.
I am jealous of everything and of everyone. Half of the time. The other half I think I'm hotter than hot and that everything will be OK.
I feel the need to impress everyone at all times. I'm done with that. I am going to be as blunt as I think and if it turns out to be awful I can deal with that.
What we learned:
1. I'm not over Tara because I'm afraid that if I was over her she'd feel that I was a stupid boy who never really was all that in-love. So I have to suffer to prove myself.
2. I crave attention.
3. I have a huge ego.
4. I have no reason to have a huge ego.
5. I know far too much about Robert Faurisson.
6. I'm going to be honest and it will ruin my world. My world needs to be ruined.
This was the most fun entry in the world.
edit: I passed new haven and middletown twice. That made me said. It made me even sadder to see a circus/amusement park type thing up. I just kept thinking of Tara's vivian. I do not even know how to spell vivian. I should shoot myself in the face.
edit edit: edit.
Everybody should be sad all of the time. It would save me a lot of trouble.
This entry is going to be filled with drama. The drama you want to scream.
You want to scream out this drama. You want to bloodlet this drama and feel it pierce everyone around you. This drama is cruel, jagged, and it's... it's drama. It's fucking drama.
You don't want to lie about this drama. This drama is naked and gruesome. You stare at this drama because it's my brain on drugs on the sidewalk just baking for everyone to see. This drama is your drama because it is my drama.
This is communal drama.
This is my own personal drama. It is no one else's. Nobody has a right to my drama, it's only for me to experience.
This drama kills pregnant women and slaughters old men. Old men who give you candy and stories and guilt about everything in the world.
This is my drama and you can't lie about it. You get a feeling in your stomach. It grows and it grows and it feels just like you miss someone. But it's just the drama.
It's the attachment and the longing for and the desire. It's the ego, it's complete ego and it hurts.
I want to tell the truth about everything in my life just to try to kill this drama. Because I don't know how far it goes. I want to be honest and evil and I'm tired of lying about everything all of the time. This entry just went somewhere I didn't want it to. I thought I'd just rant about Tara because that's all I ever do, even if you don't know I'm doing it.
I want to not be hung up. I want to never talk to her again and be happy about that because I'm the better person who can let go.
This is my sidewalk on drugs baking in the cold.
The truth is
I never got over Tara.
When I say that I cried for four hours and then didn't cry anymore after Kayla, that's absolutely true. What I don't mention is I pouted for the next week or two until I realised I was upset over memories that didn't occur. Like us spending time at best buy. We never were at a best buy together.
My college situation. Only my close friends hear about all of my rejections. There have been 10 of them. Plus a waiting list. Plus a haven't heard from yet from a few of them. Plus Emmanuel saying "OK, join us."
I read for two reasons.
To feel smarter than you.
To feel smarter than I did.
I sometimes think about mathematics when I fuck.
It's awful.
When I was first with Kayla I'd run through powers of 2 because I was under the impression that sex that didn't last a million hours was bad sex.
Whenever I fuck now I think of math because of that.
I suck at art. Seriously. Art is not fucking around in photoshop. At least my fucking around in photoshop is not art.
When I look in a mirror I usually hate what I look like. A year ago I always hated what I looked like. I'm getting better.
I am going to wind up sleeping with a girl that I should not sleep with just to get over Tara. and it'll work. I'll forget about what I felt and pretend I never did. I'll move on.
Irina just asked me to link her to an ex. I felt like I should make up an excuse. I did not. I feel a lot better now. Like I'm not afraid of being judged. Because I already am. I'm tired of making positive impressions. Because positive impressions are called "reliefs". and that's a misleading name.
--
Forget all of that.
--
I'll try again.
Greatest fear:
I used to think it was being alone. It is not. It's that there is no girl out there that is completely compatible with me. I have not found her yet. As of taking off "in a relationship" I have received around 100 messages on OKCupid.
I can not stand people. There are not many fun people. I do not look for very much in a girl.
Honest - ... I have had awful luck with that.
Pretty - Apparently that's not difficult. I have seen a total of 20 girls, and this is including passing on the street, that are of my ideal look. 20 out of over 10,000 teenagers, I'd say. I've somehow managed to date 2 of them. That's GOOD.
Intelligent - That has not been a problem.
Interests - That has bit a bit of a problem.
Location - Minor issue.
Interest in Me - That has been a small problem. That's on me though, probably.
I am jealous of everything and of everyone. Half of the time. The other half I think I'm hotter than hot and that everything will be OK.
I feel the need to impress everyone at all times. I'm done with that. I am going to be as blunt as I think and if it turns out to be awful I can deal with that.
What we learned:
1. I'm not over Tara because I'm afraid that if I was over her she'd feel that I was a stupid boy who never really was all that in-love. So I have to suffer to prove myself.
2. I crave attention.
3. I have a huge ego.
4. I have no reason to have a huge ego.
5. I know far too much about Robert Faurisson.
6. I'm going to be honest and it will ruin my world. My world needs to be ruined.
This was the most fun entry in the world.
edit: I passed new haven and middletown twice. That made me said. It made me even sadder to see a circus/amusement park type thing up. I just kept thinking of Tara's vivian. I do not even know how to spell vivian. I should shoot myself in the face.
edit edit: edit.