scylla

Oh god. Last night was definitely one of the worst nights in... well, it's comparable to that one night at the end of September last year. Last night... I actually cried so hard/violently I think i hit my head. ow.

I don't understand it. I hate the entire process of getting rejected. Every time this happens i have to remind myself why I usually feel better just sleeping around. Because -- I mean, for fucks' sake, I don't want to be told there's something inarticulate and awful about me. That's reserved for other people; it's a line that I don't want to fucking hear.

Anyway. I don't know why I'm posting this here. I am sure that most of you think I am awesome, despite my sudden panic attacks at this moment. (Clearly, if I'm not being deconstructed and faced with the prospect of being wholly undesireable, I usually have quite a resilient ego) I'm really usually much saner, but this is driving me crazy. I suppose this is as angry, manic and upset as you (fair reader) will ever see me (and I am now late for class).

Apparently... I'm not entirely sure what is apparent, in fact. I don't know. Am I that bizarre and chamelonlike that there's no way to get a defined portrait of me? I've done it before. But if all of my social interactions are either horribly drunk or nervous as fuck (as they are wont to be when I am infatuated, a situation which happens with singular INFREQUENCY), then you can't expect anything from me than random blushing, inanity and Family Guy quotes. And yet -- I can't help now deconstructing myself to the minutae, trying to figure out what is wrong with me. No matter what you claim, there is no way this doesn't involve some fundamental flaw on my part.