Tonight will be interesting.
It’s not that I’m awake. It’s that I’m still awake.
Back to square one.
My life is different now.
But I’m still lonely.
Talking with a few friends has helped understand that maybe I’m easily used.
Maybe that’s just what I want you to think.
Go ahead, try to play me…see what happens.
Yes I slept in.
Lucky Strike scores critical hit. This ticket stub must be surrendered upon exiting and this is a tribute to a French soldier, long forgotten amongst the scattered belongings of someone who knows he’s lost his way.
Lost where everything is cats. The dark reminds me of home. I might trip on them or step on them, and they make rustling noises in odd places at odd hours. The cat’s in the ceiling and the silver spoon…? I was not born with one of those in my mouth for sure.
No, no, no. Everything is computers. Computers are my everything. Too bad, so sad. They play tricks on my everything with their every little thing, wires connected with patience and attention to detail…plug it in the wrong way and BOOM is more than possible.
But even so, that’s what my mind did today, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Panic! at the Wherever Jaska Is.
Found myself at pizzeria before 1700h and ate half of what is currently taking up space in the fridge in the kitchen I rarely use to burn myself grilled cheese, the few out of many nights I don’t get a real meal. Hardly a deal.
Ate and ate more and the emptiness grows.
Must reach a goal ever further away in the brambly heart-stopping spinning train with rotating mirrors on all angles begging me to return to a place I never knew I belonged because it doesn’t exist beyond the crystalline fabrications of my last refuge.
It’s not safe anymore. I’m under attack. They’re bombarding me on all sides but all is quiet on the western front. The south is raging and the north is shaking. All the clouds are breaking. Shattered wings colliding. But I hope to find some solace in the easy silence you once gave to me…
That is, before the silence grew too deafening for my ears, full of holes like a tracheotomy. Lucky Strike scores critical hit.
I couldn’t take the silence as we grew apart so I forced the pieces together. I grabbed a sharp object to shear the square peg to fit into the round hole and I carved a heart prism. I call it a Heart Prison, and we’re all inmates because Love Dies Hard, thank you Mr. Audigier, mainstreaming tattoos to transcend cosmetics and become cosmetic accessories. Such a shame that we drink our bottled water while we think nowadays. Mine comes from a tap and hell, I’m still here.
I hope you’re happy, but I know you are and I complimented it. I noticed you seem happy. So happy that you’re ignoring everything else - well that can only mean one thing, You-Know-Who, and that’s that somewhere along the way you realized that whatever doesn’t make you happy and provide your instant gratification we all seek this day and age is clearly not worth it, not worth your time and any degree of emotional investment, so fuck off and be interpersonally lazy somewhere else. You’ve got someone who’s not me - join the crowd!
“My life was changed when I met Jaska; he proved to me that I can’t ever be with someone like him. Especially not him. I don’t understand him.” Well sir/madam, this is quite frankly owing to the simple reason that he, too, does not understand himself and likely never will, so it is my professional advice to seek professional help. “Thank you bureaucratic medicine! Hey, doesn’t his dad work for that?”
Ah I see what was thought of I did there. No. No means no means no one else ever in the history was I talking about. I made them all up. I made them up differently than how I made up Ivan. Ivan is more real than I am, such a firm grip on reality. Fuck, I want to be like him. I really truly do. I couldn’t have made him up. Figments of my imagination would TALK TO ME more, and definitely not solely on RuneScape which I still play, go ye forth and judge.
Reminds of my sophomore algebra class. “If you aren’t going to study, Charles, then go ye forth and take it up the ass.” No one knew back then. No one knew I liked boys and filthy gay jokes and overt homo-eroticism. Aw, was poor Jaska sheltered his whole life? Yes of course! My parents have almost paid off the house that sheltered me those long, lonely years when I didn’t even know.
I never knew I was lonely until I was alone. The difference? I see the cats in things because they make me feel like I have a companion. This stuff works, I swear. Two-timing double-agent Uri Molotov over here got nothing on it. Shtirred, not stiffed I mean stirred I mean fuck it stiffed I’m not paying, no no no NO it’s YOUR TAB NOW so DEAL WITH IT.
I never knew I was lonely until I was alone.
I know, I tried that before but it wasn’t entertaining. Subsequently not entertained.
The speaker fires out over the fields soon to bring news of the great race to cure cancer. I wish I could but no, sorry, my friends don’t have cancer and neither do I, to the best of my knowledge. One of my friends has his head smashed in and the other a bullet where it oughtn’t to be. Both await a fancy box (I call them hearses without wheels) to bring them across the river Styx, where they will meet Dionysus and party like they’re still alive.
I wish I had cancer.
It would be so much simpler then. I’d know exactly what was wrong with me! No well-meaning sonic boom will help me now, because tonight I’m gonna have myself a real good time BULLSHIT he said that because he went to gay bathhouses and actually had fun. I want a friend with benefits, I want a friend with feelings less than romantic. What’s the big deal if good close friends can fuck now and then, huh? It feels good, from what I’ve heard. I want to.
There’s one more now who came at so the right time, came into my phone (read: into) i mean digitally the scope of the maximum dread was frightening me and I wanna run and hide. Wanna run and hide. Oh oh I want some more. What are you waiting for? Seriously both of you what were you waiting for? You, no, sit over here, please on the bed, where else? we’ll get to that later. You now, who-must-not-be-named, o-ho! What, brushed up your Shakespeare have you? Well in truth methinks ‘ar to be but a wee lyin’ lass. The tartan isn’t hiding much. The scarf, even less. Imagining you naked is oh so easy and I like what I see through these fake x-ray glasses the TSA officer gypped me with. I fronted him too. Shame, people suck.
You! You, o source of my longings and lust, you, o mortal flesh I long to tenderly caress in the grass on a warm sunny day, with a camera to capture every intimate moment of pure trust once between us now vanished into thin air, blown away like the snow you don’t have in your native countries. Yes I’ll bring him into this, my friend, no that was not an ADDRESS! Sit down! He isn’t here and never was and won’t be but that’s because he’s here for life and he knows it and we know it and like it and love it and cherish it as our creed and as our cause. We all took the oath. Renewed in our sleep. How great a journey is what starts with a fancy paper.
Too much at any one time, going on as I’m going off - dropping off the map forever falling, my lungs like parachutes with large black weights in them. Lucky Strike scores a critical hit. I knew a man who left them in Argentina which is cool because I don’t even leave my fucking ROOM.
Been sick so long I’m worried I’m just like this and I’m not sick and neither is anyone else. We’re all just running around in a big field of rye waiting till the inevitable moment we need to be caught by a gentle strong guiding hand and pushed back towards where the people are. Not in front of a car.
They’re gonna be up all night but not with us. They’re gonna be up all night for cancer as we try our hardest to give them work, so the rest of them say. They would pay attention to me then! Real feelings and truths would come out then. “Oh Jaska I always thought you were X, Y, X” or “I’ve always really liked you and cared and I’m here for you.”
It would be so much simpler then, since I’d know exactly what was wrong with me!
I wish I had cancer.
But, I don’t.
And moving right along to the next in the rink today, a bringlehorned cockersmooch imported straight from Gazornia in the wouth-sestern tropicssssss, so named for their dyslexic snakes, poor things.
careful with your eyelids kiddo. You might see too much and we can’t let that happen.
This is a remarkable specimen - wait. Has anyone seen Jaska? Zhe told me to meet zim in Narnia but the wardrobe’s been moved! What’s that? Closed? To whom? Well the public naturally, zhe hates zis public.And zis friends? Zhe has friends? How quaint.
The horns on this thing can impale your heart from across campus or face-to-face. You take your pick, but before you get too excited, the second part of its name is just for show. Irony, they call it. The people who name these things, you’ve probably never heard of them, but the idea is that love hurts, then hurts more, then BAM done and you’ve already had far, far too much of mind-trickery and games and tried tested topographical representations of human interaction, conduct set down for the ages to recall as the way things once were. Chances are…you’ll never see the second part.
I’ve had my experiences. Enough to last a lifetime, which is fine because I guess now I can sit on my ass collecting computers and leaving a mark in history as a volunteer distributed computer guru until I die at 35 of natural causes.
No one knows what I’ve been through or where I am or where I’m going (voice of Florence Welch)
If I shed my skin, the scars would still be there. I’ve tried. It didn’t hurt and it didn’t work. Work doesn’t hurt, though, work makes money makes computers and tobacco and monarch butterflies all across the Mexican sky and we don’t even know why.
My depth perception…it’s so deep.
Okay, a moment of clarity. I am on NO WAIT STOP THE PRESSES We still can’t find Jaska, is zhe around?
That girl, the one he wanted so badly? What? With his friend? Mentee? That’s a word? Little what? Brother? He’s like 16!! Oh. That kind. Ah. And I see this is why we make the others do grunt work in the field. Carry on.
That girl, the one he wanted so badly? What? With his friend? Mentee? Word shmürd, that sucks. She did what? … … Huh? … … so while they were together and he didn’t know and he asked her and she said yes and he was so, so happy. He loves her as a friend, somewhere above that in the graying stratosphere growing disused with its current labels FUCK LABELS do what you want, kids. That’s a bitch move for sure. Oh my goodness. What was the plan, she would what, lead him on until last moment, say she thought he knew and traipse off with his friend and leave our Jaska alone again?
Jaska, poor kid, zhe wanted her so badly. Thought about her, dominating his thoughts. Wanting friendship, deep and meaningful and without, devoid of attachment like a storybook with no binding on the pages, the kind of thing to find at shift throps all over the place. But those adventures have come to an end before beginning again (can you imagine this sung? I can) Yes I know. The and other but the also and and the with but to the also. :)
All he wanted was a close friendship and never gets it ever, feel for him. all of you have been there. He wants the person all year planning weekends around him and always impossible to talk to but still so caring and considerate and what a personality…where is it kept, they told me breasts but sex-ed was notiriousSLAP SLAP SLAP WRONG no, don’t talk about her like that. She is sexy and gorgeous and beautiful and hot and all the meaningless adjectives you can throw in to the tune of a show-stopper, Queen even, not Prince (what happened to King? King Diamond, ah, good)
She is a strong independent woman who didn’t want anything serious and suddenly does with someone she had said she couldn’t date because didn’t want relationship, just like Jaska, so much like our Jaska. It keeps coming, Jaska, please keep dictating and we’ll get it down okay thank you moving along.
Jaska didn’t know what zhe wanted until zhe realized zhe did and couldn’t bring zimself to say it bring to bear all the crushing weight of a whole school year…Final thoughts Mr. Börner?
The girl he loved.
My counselor says it’s heartbreak.
An afterthought. Wait, that’s a lie. This is all at the forefront of my mind.
I miss Scott and Jack. Losing two friends within 6 weeks is a bit much. And I miss Matt too. But the first two will never talk to anyone again. The latter just won’t talk to me.
Easier to type it than tell anyone important. They all follow me anyway.
I rarely, if ever, use names in my posts or even in my private journal (YES I DO HAVE ONE AND THIS ISN’T IT). I’ve learned that people come and go. I mean, if I seriously expected to keep all the same friends I had in high school, I’d also have to name Ivan, Nik, Nate, Abby, Sara, Alan, Iuliu, Anya, Cameron…
The trend seems to be that my most troubled friends stop talking to me, drift away from the world, and then take their own lives. Either that or they just kinda drift…going wherever the tide takes them. It’s just that sometimes, the waves get a bit rough. They’ll get caught up and dragged out to sea, and sometimes those really big waves come crashing over the tops of tall buildings.
There is only one person with whom I’ve consistently been on friendly terms for more than two years. She goes to Dickinson with me now and I barely ever see her. But we’ve only drifted apart physically. College students are so remarkably lazy. Used to be I had to drive a whole 6 minutes or so (4 with a green light) to see her. Now it’s about a 3 minute walk. Really? I’ve regressed that much?
I wonder why I miss people. Perhaps it would make sense to forget things once they end. Maybe, if I learned something from the relationship, I could hold that with me…but let’s be honest, I’m not going to learn anything new from people at this stage. They’ll just continue to disappoint and mystify me in their own strange ways every time.
I wish it was easier to lose myself in my hobbies like I used to. My guitar is too messed up to play properly (neck needs adjusted and I don’t trust myself to do that correctly), I don’t have a piano, I can’t play any woodwinds because they’re so loud, and I can’t exactly lose myself in photography now that I have no subject material and am fast running out of remnants (from 2009, no joke) to edit and upload.
It’s like I haven’t done anything good photographically since coming back from China. Besides SDLC. SDLC taught me a lot. I even had friends for a bit because of SDLC. But that was also 2009.
But in the grand scheme of things, that’s all a flash in the pan. A blip on the radar. Perhaps it’s better if I fly under the radar. What if no one knew I existed? Would I still feel lonely then? Because people wouldn’t be forgetting about me if they never knew I was there! ;)
Nope, too late. I’ve made my mark on this campus (not literally, I leave that to more skilled urban artists) and frankly, with only 3000 +/- 200 of us here (I forget) it’s not hard to be noticed…especially looking like me. I can’t blend in. That’s why I liked Penn State. Well, that’s the only reason I liked Penn State. I think I’ve finally recovered from that stressful experience.
The numbness is so strange. I remember what I was told a while ago…so long ago. I told myself on the 19th of November to stop and I did, for awhile. But that didn’t work. Without me to say anything, the communication paths faded and needed rebuilt practically from scratch. 2 months after that was the most I’m ever going to get. I just don’t understand why I literally cannot feel my extremities.
My counselor tells me it’s heartbreak.
It’s almost midnight.
I never even played Left 4 Dead but I keep hearing “Pills here! Pills here! Pills here!” …I wonder why.
My dad’s cousin’s daughter had a baby. :)
…now what’s that make me?
Sitting in numb silence, wondering how I’ll remember today.
I know it’s only Thursday, but I feel like I should recap the week now. I definitely feel like I need a fresh start.
- been sick and, as a result, sleep-deprived all week
- found out Monday at 0240h that another one of my friends committed suicide
- got yelled at, patronized, and made to feel under-appreciated by my father
- missed most of my classes
- found out I have another exam (next week) on stuff I don’t really know
- worked up the courage to text my erstwhile “best friend” telling him I still love and care about him despite the way he treated me, and said I really value his friendship and miss him terribly
- never got a response in any form from him and drew the conclusion (as I had all along) that he wants me out of his life.
- found out the girl I’ve liked a lot since August is dating the person I mentor for my fraternity
- skipped most meals
- realized people lie about their feelings and intentions to make me shut up and go away
- realized my feelings will never be reciprocated in any situation (you name it)
- worked on an arrangement for a song that I think is going well, and sang too, but my heart’s just not in it.
- trying to stop feeling nauseous
- wishing, as always, that I had a close friend for once
And now, I have nothing really planned for this weekend. No one to go see the play with, no one to bring to this event Saturday, and otherwise no reason to do much of anything. That could be good. Someone should be coming over Friday and that’s nice. Rest of the weekend is going to suck. I’m not convincing myself of that - I know.
Rehearsal will be a pain because I have to finish this arrangement and I really don’t want to do it at all. I have to though. I volunteered and I can’t let people down.
Everything I do is for other people. I don’t care about myself.
Look where it gets me. Was there anything positive this week? NO! …so, it needs to end. Kill it with fire.
I’m arranging a song I actually like with harmonies we all enjoy.
…that aren’t from Nik?!
People like me typically don’t have meaningful relationships with people and end up alone.
I won’t let that happen. I don’t care how hard it is, I’m NOT going to be like the others.
It pains me to see people with their friends all the time and hear their stories of fun and adventures and whatnot, from the most innocent conversations to explicit details of, well, more serious things. I have none of that. But I want all of it.
I want the whole life experience. I’m gonna keep forcing that square peg into the round hole until one day, one of them gives way.
sexual frustration needing something new