tds

Drunkish and talkative.

Walked around for a while today. I keep ending up at a similar place every time I venture beyond the usual places. I don't think it's a masochism deal, but really, who can tell? There's now three people part of me wants to bump into, because now I actually CAN. I'm almost verging into being an Eagles song. Really though...what is it that compells such things, especially --in this case-- when the person is someone who, at best, is a missed chance that really shouldn't have been a chance at all? Went by that place twice today. Almost hung out for a few hours, just to tempt fate.

Then there's the one at Streets. Went there, too. Had dinner, in fact. Saw a very beautiful girl, in a quirky way. Like a younger, prettier Regina Spektor. Ever wonder what people think when you make eye contact? They keep saying eyes are windows to the soul...but really, honestly, how often can you actually SEE through those windows? Anyway, yeah, I decided to take off, if only because I was actually thinking --seriously committing-- to staying for several hours, which would be financially stupid as well as unfulfilling. And there was a group of people there who annoyed the hell out of me; the kind who put $20 into a jukebox, then bitch when they can't find the band they want, so they play something that is supposed to be ironically funny. Because of them, I've got "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" in my head.

Then there's the OTHER i have minor hopes of seeing...really, nothing to say there. I'm a bit of an idiot, in all honesty, and I think I still, after...fuck, seven years, have a minor hope on that one. Not in the way of love or anything; I'm an idiot, but not a retarded waste of space. I just think we should have sex, because she would enjoy it. That's how I roll. My guess is she's pretty still. Or at least bar pretty. I did join this site for the bitch intially, so the least she can be is Jager pretty.

Lots on the mind, folks. Lots. I'll be twenty-two in twenty days. And I have so little to show for it that it hurts. Not for the lack of trying, you understand, but still...you can't multiply anything with zero and get a good answer. The potential keeps drying up with every year that goes by, and I DO have potential. Ask around. And even then, you just CAN'T get by on potential. Not forever. The plans --the big ones-- never work out, and my goal is to actually GET them to. I envy those who have what I don't: that...drive, for lack of a better word. The ones who have MADE shit work, who have followed their dreams or their passions. I just scare easily, and am overwhelmed even easier. Classes next semester if it kills me. But it all comes back to the fact that when given the ball, I drop it. Is it better to keep trying, or just stop? I can never quite tell.

I think I will actually email a publisher. I mentioned this idea to Lobster_Mobster a few days ago. It's just a matter of selling myself on it. Writing is all anyone ever told me I was good at. That said, I read the things I post on here, or what I write in general, and I feel like a fucking tool for even considering such options. Really, though, if I got rejected for something or other, I wouldn't likely want to write again, which would severely damage me, in a way. But...you know...money.

This is already long, and wretched. I should stop. This, by the way, isn't meant to be all depressing or self-indulgent or something. I'm in a great mood. SGSac people should ask me questions in the thread of similar title. Just because.

Later.