DayMarch 3, 2010

Writing Myself Into Rust

If you allow something so unnecessary
get you down there’s no one else to blame

I need something stronger
something extra strength

I’ve millions of materials to trade
if you could offer only love
you’d be like a god to us
like a drug dealer
all sold out of trust
but you threw it all away

I used to mind that everyone I know seems to hate themselves
but I do it as well

we need something stronger
something extra strength

In an attempt to 1. procrastinate and 2. clean up my computer, I decided to re-organize my files and delete irrelevant files. From Monday to today I’ve been in a pretty bad mood. Resigned to failure (as I mentioned in my previous entry), etc. But I found a file on my computer labeled, “turningpoint.html” and naturally, I was inclined to open it. 10/15/2004:

t ea r s of ei r: I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m not feeling happy now.
Tenor player: That’s too bad something the matter?
t ea r s of ei r: Yeah … somewhat.
Tenor player: That blows, you could always blow it off or just talk about it to whoever sometimes that helps
t ea r s of ei r: I could talk about it with you but not like you’d give a shit.
t ea r s of ei r: And I don’t blow things off.
Tenor player 973: K, well if you want to talk just go right ahead
t ea r s of ei r: And you’ll listen w/o insulting me?
Tenor player: If you wish, besides I think I won’t be insulting you as much from now on
t ea r s of ei r: Why would that be, hm?
Tenor player: A question of mine has been answered with such a little sliver of doubt that I don’t doubt the answer. Anyway continue with your troubles if you are so inclined

For the longest time my AIM saved conversations (as I am frightfully forgetful, and were there for reference). After re-reading the conversation I realized that very rarely was I able to ~talk~ about anything because everyone assumes I’m normal/happy/composed. As I’ve gotten older, that’s less true. People in the real world understand that real people have real problems, they’re just not blatantly out in the open. Or maybe people still think I’m the perfect picture of togetherness, who knows.

Anyway, I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders now. I got a very uncomfortable feeling reading the conversation… for one, the problem that was bothering me then is now solved, sort of… after a gazillion years, but then there is this sad realization that from 2004 to 2010 I still can’t talk about my problems (oh I wonder why!). Yet, something about the conversation making me uncomfortable made me realize that I don’t need to share my feelings to feel better (because it makes me uncomfortable). So the solution to my current talk-phobia isn’t finding someone that cares, which is a relief, because that’s one tough to find solution. Hence, why I feel lighter, happier. Another solution must be out there.

Somehow, I doubt any of this makes sense. It almost seems counter-productive to regress into a shell. But I don’t think that’s what has happened here today.

Happiness is boring. Depression is catastrophic.

They’re gonna eat me alive, if I stumble.

Thus far I have written six essays on cannibalism, and I need to get to reading so I can start my seventh. And then I have to write a ten-page paper on cannibalism. At this point, cannibalism has lost all its meaning and I can hardly stand it. I at least get to quote Metric on my blog title, right? (: Haven’t listened to this song in a ~while~ except now I hear it’s all over the radio. Radio is stupid and way behind on the music scene.

Last night I had champagne, red wine, vodka, tequila, and beer. Lmfao… so I wait 21 years to drink right…? And soon as I turn there’s like a fucking platter of all the alcoholic drinks I can have right in front of me and I dive in. Not gonna lie, I experienced drunk-ness for the first time, but I didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done sober. I already dance like no tomorrow without alcohol. So whatever.

High points: Mom and Aunt surprising me and treating myself and friends to dinner at Ca Dario downtown; Getting some CRAZY ass lapdances from Moonie, Sebastian, and David; I do recall Seb asking me, “do you like it?” while running my arm down his body (I couldn’t stop laughing); my fave lapdance was Moonie’s… awkward!; having a real talk with Sandy and Rona (I guess difference is… I actually talk when I drink — woah woah).

Low points: Working for six hours on my birthday; Crashing my aunt’s Mercedes in a tiny street just before work (urghhhhh); almost crying at work because I fucked up; borrowing my Mom’s BMW (it’s awful to drive… yeah, it’s convertible, but the steering wheel is really heavy/stiff and hard to move, the brakes are too sensitive [I barely press down and the car is practically stopped already], and being UNABLE to see anything because of the design of the car). Not many people would whine and complain about a BMW, but uhm… it’s very frustrating as a driver to switch cars like that (though I did mess up big time), and really disliking the way the new car drives.

Vegas with family, family friends, and friends this upcoming weekend!!!!! (; WOOT WOOT WOOT. SOOOO EXCITING.

TODAY… 8-hour work day. I hadn’t eaten breakfast when I got to work but I was still suprisingly in a good mood. And I went above and beyond for clients today. It was just a good-mood work day. But soon as I had to drive back home, I got in a bad mood because driving the BMW really absofreakinglutely frustrates me. So now I’m just grumpy… D:

There is way too much going on these days. I feel tense, like I work tomorrow or something and don’t have enough time, but I don’t work any more days this week. Thank god, because hw-galore.

Re-reading my entry, I realize I’m sort of sad… despite the excitement. ): I feel very… resigned to failure or something. Yadda yadda.

Niiight.