It's become evident that among the many issues that plague me *mind you some as little as packing my shit for our upcoming move, some as big as my health* there seems to be one that does not bother me at all, and that, if left unchecked, could become a real, hard to ignore problem.
In recent weeks, I have taken to taking pills to sleep. Stress at work would not allow me to sleep, so I took just one little blue capsule. Slept like a damn comatose patient, because really, no fucking body wants to sleep like a baby, they wake up every two hours or so, fuck that. Anyway, one night I had a bad toothache and took some painkillers, mixed with the sleeping pills and I can tell you this, I've never slept so good in my life.
So, the next night I did the same, and the night after that, and now, I pretty much NEED the pills to sleep.
It's a problem, I know, but I'm not willing to quit. I would if I wanted to, but I dunno, there's something about that blank state of mind I experience that is a blessing to me. It's good to not have anything going bump in my head for a little while.
I know it's wrong, but so good. I get this serene feeling from the incoherence and utter lack of sensible thoughts, and I feel so relaxed that I think it's worth it.
I love my hollow serenity, I really do.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Short, consice and precise
I sometimes wonder what would happen if I suddenly died. How would my online friends know I'm gone? I've already told my brother he's responsible for telling both one of my best friends and my boyfriend, but besides that, what will happen? Will everyone else even notice I'm not around?
My money's on they will never notice...
One thing's for sure, I don't want a funeral. hahahaha
Sorry to the rest of my relatives, but no, you don't get to weep croc tears over my body. If you didn't care about me while I was alive, if you never bothered to form a genuine, family bond with me, you have no right to soil my dead body with your fake tears and shallow words.
Fuck you all! hah!
About life, it's the usual. I'm becoming numb to some things, and overly emotional over others, I'm riding the mood roller coaster and I can't blame it on PMS, I've never had that curse fall on me *knocks on wood*
Oh well, Toodles. I planned to type something lengthy about random thoughts again, but I'll bore you to death if I do, and I'm too lazy to type anyway.
::EDIT::
I believe I may have a drug problem... Maybe I'll talk about that later.
My money's on they will never notice...
One thing's for sure, I don't want a funeral. hahahaha
Sorry to the rest of my relatives, but no, you don't get to weep croc tears over my body. If you didn't care about me while I was alive, if you never bothered to form a genuine, family bond with me, you have no right to soil my dead body with your fake tears and shallow words.
Fuck you all! hah!
About life, it's the usual. I'm becoming numb to some things, and overly emotional over others, I'm riding the mood roller coaster and I can't blame it on PMS, I've never had that curse fall on me *knocks on wood*
Oh well, Toodles. I planned to type something lengthy about random thoughts again, but I'll bore you to death if I do, and I'm too lazy to type anyway.
::EDIT::
I believe I may have a drug problem... Maybe I'll talk about that later.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Sincerity
You know, the more days I spend alive, the more I'm convinced that the solution and the cause of most of my bouts of depression is my tendency to observe the people around me. I know I contradict myself a lot, by now anyone would have noticed that, but grant me just five minutes and I will explain myself.
As much of a distracted spazz as I may seem (mind you, instead of rejecting that image I embrace it in the name of self sabotage and sheer fear of commitment), I'm actually very aware of the things that go on around me, and I usually catch things that a lot of people seem to miss. I have made a hobby out of observing others, how they act, interact and develop both around others and by themselves. From the years I've spent observing people, I have come to the conclusion that nobody has just one personality, in fact, the more people someone knows, the more personalities they have. I know, it sounds insane, nay, absolutely retarded, but, it's nothing as bad as multiple personalty disorders, it's something much subtle, so much so, that you would only notice it if you sat down and watched someone long enough to catch the small variation in the tone of their voice, their body language and overall demeanor. Why do I mention this you might wonder? It's easy, thanks to those observations, I can discern how truly happy people are, I can gauge their feelings, even guess how their lives are, what kind of problems they might be having, what doubts, fears, kinks and quirks they may have. Thanks to my observations, I can safely say that most of the people around me are miserable to some degree. Miserable, just like I am sometimes, worse even, and believe it or not, that's one hell of a picker-upper.
As morbid and selfish as that may sound, the fact that there's people out there doing worse than me, makes me feel better because I realize that things could be so much worse. It makes me appreciate the things I have and take for granted. However, it also makes me feel bad, because then I think I don't have the right to be such a whiny bitch all the time, when I am actually blessed with many good things that others don't have, such as loving *yet annoying* parents, a brother and a sister, a roof over my head, food at my table and freedom to come and go as I please among many other things that I know I take for granted.
Then again, I also see that lots of people also have things I wish I had, some of which I may never have, such as a loving life partner that is physically by their side, children, a place to call their own, actual careers, real life people to confide in and to share things with. It depresses me, and I somewhat envy them, something that I hate to admit but that I should do in order to stick to my "sincerity" theme. Which, by the way, is something absolutely hypocritical. Really, who on this planet can say they are 100% sincere? No one, everyone has something they hide so sincerity is nothing more than a pretty concept we came up with to coerce others to be as honest as the can manage to be around us while we go and act like someone else around them. Honesty, just like loyalty and many other human virtues are nothing but a pack of empty words, little porcelain shells for the nasty, putrid yolk that is human nature.
I know those are bitter words, but mind you, I'm only writing what I think without disguising it with nice words, I'm a hypocrite myself, because I can only be honest like this when I know those who might stumble upon it don't know who I am. Here I don't have a name or a face, you don't know me, so I feel free to say whatever the hell I want without fear of what the consequences may be. I'm am positive no one I know will ever read this, therefore I am fearless, theoretically speaking.
Just had a brainfart btw, so I'm changing subjects if only briefly before I finish this post.
My sister came to us on Sunday, I kindda expected her to stop by, after all, it WAS mother's day, and the bitch owes our mother at least that. In all honesty, I didn't even know she was here, I was asleep, and given the fact that I usually just ignore her presence after the first five minutes of her rare visits, my guess is no one bothered to wake me to save me the trouble of sitting in the same room as her while trying to pretend to care about whatever shit she's talking about (in other words, money, how her job sucks, what new thing her redneck bastard lover is up to and what she's bought ever since her last visit).
Now, before you go on and pass judgment and crown me as the worst sibling in the history of mankind, second only to Cain himself, let me summarize the last four years of my relationship with my sister.
My sister and I had always been together, we even slept on the same bed until well into our teens (as creepy as that may sound). In fact, we spent so much time together at home, we wouldn't spent much time together at school. She's a year younger and we both had our own friends, it wasn't that big of a deal, given that we are quite literally polar opposites. People often think we're twins, but that's as far as the resemblance goes. (just in case you don't get it yet, she's a dog, I'm a cat/she's gold, I'm silver/I'm black and she's white and so freakin' on) It never quite bothered me to be distant at school, the gods know I was actually glad that I got a chance to breathe my own air for a few hours. But as we grew up, we became closer, best friends even. She would tell me everything about her, I'd talk to her about the things that bothered me and so on. I thought she was as honest as I was with her, but it all turned out to be a mask.
She suddenly decided to join the army when she was on her first year of college. I was kindda shocked that she of all people would want to do something like that *she's the girliest, whiniest girl to have ever lived*, but I figured that us coming from a military family, she just wanted to follow on our predecessor's steps. I supported her as much as my prideful emotions would allow *I'm a conundrum, stick around and you'll find out just how contradicting I am*. The day came when she left for basic training, and shortly after me moved to NC, in great part to be closer to her. She was discharged just a week before her graduation due to medical issues and when she came back to live with us, she was a different person, or should I say, she was herself more than ever.
Her inner, selfish little critter came out, and she became an obnoxious bitch. I blamed it on her training, perhaps she was frustrated, maybe depressed, who the hell knew? I just refused to believe that she was really that ugly a person. One day she told me she was going to run away from our house, about a month before our dad had a complicated surgery on his ankle. I pleaded with her, asked her to please talk to us if something was bothering, to at least wait until my dad's recovery was done, after a few days of negotiations, she promised me she'd wait until after the surgery *yeah, because she wouldn't talk to us about what bothered her no matter what* We used to work together, and one day I was working and she was off, she just jumped out of our window and left while I was at work.
That afternoon after work, I came home to the most dreadful silence I have ever experienced. It was one of the most awkward things to get in the car with a damn pastry for my sister and find out she was gone, just like that. My heart sank and I think I cried enough to water our yard for a good year. I was angry, sad, confused, but overall, I felt betrayed, by none other than my own sister.
There are really no words to explain just how pissed I was afterwards. Dealing with a torn house almost broke me. My mother went into full denial, replacing sadness with resentment and anger, my father became even more depressed, my brother was also angry and me, being the emotional equivalent of a comatose earthworm, simply bottled things up and kept a straight face for everyone.
I won't lie though, I cried the first night without her by my side. And it wasn't because I missed her, we'd been apart during her training and I was fine, but it was the fact that things would never be the same between us, the fact that she'd betrayed me and that I may never see her again *the whore did write a letter saying she was leaving the state and not coming back* It broke me, as corny as that sounds.
Then a few months after she reappeared, acting like nothing happened, to tell my parents what she said was "the truth", in other words, to reveal that all our lives we lived THINKING we knew her. It was very confusing for everyone, and it angered me, so much so, to this day, I haven't fully forgiven her, and I know I never will. I'm a vindictive little bitch, and I can and will hold a grudge until the day I die, even against her.
Hence why she's usually referred to as "the bitch" or something along those lines.
So, on to what my point was...
Last Sunday she came over, and after much prodding and asking, my parents finally got her to say why she's been so out of it during her last visits. It turns out, the disgusting piece of trailer-park shit she's living with has been abusing her verbally and emotionally for the last few months, she says he's never laid a finger on her, but with her you can only believe half of what she says.
My father asked her if she wanted to leave the redneck bastard and she said yes, for the first time in 4 years she seemed to have made a decision that made sense. So with that plan in mind, they woke me up so we could take her to get her things together.
Now, my father is a man of the law, he was both a cop and a soldier, and being street smart as hell, he decided to take the police along to prevent things from getting ugly. Around 3p.m. we arrived at her house with two cops behind us. After the dipshit calmed down, she went in and grabbed as many of her clothes as she could. Mind you, all the while, her cracker jack is talking shit because in his narrow, deluded, paranoid excuse of a head WE had manipulated her into her decision.
After all her stuff was in our trunk, we left, only to have the little bitch go back to him the moment we got back home.
Now, had she stayed, she would have had all my support, I would have set everything aside and helped her, but after what she did after we went through all that trouble, I say FUCKIT. I love to help people and even more if they're my blood, but if I throw someone a rope and they still drown because they wouldn't grab on to it, I won't feel an ounce of sadness or regret. So from now on, we're back to "she-can-kiss-my-ass" terms.
I would try to understand what she's done had we been raised in a home where our parents abused each other, or where women are passive little creatures that do as told, but things are not like that. My mother's a strong, powerful woman, and enabler of her daughters and fierce defender of her family., in other words she does not take shit from anyone, and she and my father are equals in their relationship. Our mom empowered us, she encouraged being independent, pride in being women and respect for ourselves and our blood above everything else. I most certainly can't understand why my sister is acting the way she is, or maybe I can, she's become dependent of that asshole and it saddens me to a point.
I pray to the goddess I never become a measly shell of a woman like her. I pray she opens her eyes and realizes her life is going to Hades before it's too late.
Stupid bitch...
As much of a distracted spazz as I may seem (mind you, instead of rejecting that image I embrace it in the name of self sabotage and sheer fear of commitment), I'm actually very aware of the things that go on around me, and I usually catch things that a lot of people seem to miss. I have made a hobby out of observing others, how they act, interact and develop both around others and by themselves. From the years I've spent observing people, I have come to the conclusion that nobody has just one personality, in fact, the more people someone knows, the more personalities they have. I know, it sounds insane, nay, absolutely retarded, but, it's nothing as bad as multiple personalty disorders, it's something much subtle, so much so, that you would only notice it if you sat down and watched someone long enough to catch the small variation in the tone of their voice, their body language and overall demeanor. Why do I mention this you might wonder? It's easy, thanks to those observations, I can discern how truly happy people are, I can gauge their feelings, even guess how their lives are, what kind of problems they might be having, what doubts, fears, kinks and quirks they may have. Thanks to my observations, I can safely say that most of the people around me are miserable to some degree. Miserable, just like I am sometimes, worse even, and believe it or not, that's one hell of a picker-upper.
As morbid and selfish as that may sound, the fact that there's people out there doing worse than me, makes me feel better because I realize that things could be so much worse. It makes me appreciate the things I have and take for granted. However, it also makes me feel bad, because then I think I don't have the right to be such a whiny bitch all the time, when I am actually blessed with many good things that others don't have, such as loving *yet annoying* parents, a brother and a sister, a roof over my head, food at my table and freedom to come and go as I please among many other things that I know I take for granted.
Then again, I also see that lots of people also have things I wish I had, some of which I may never have, such as a loving life partner that is physically by their side, children, a place to call their own, actual careers, real life people to confide in and to share things with. It depresses me, and I somewhat envy them, something that I hate to admit but that I should do in order to stick to my "sincerity" theme. Which, by the way, is something absolutely hypocritical. Really, who on this planet can say they are 100% sincere? No one, everyone has something they hide so sincerity is nothing more than a pretty concept we came up with to coerce others to be as honest as the can manage to be around us while we go and act like someone else around them. Honesty, just like loyalty and many other human virtues are nothing but a pack of empty words, little porcelain shells for the nasty, putrid yolk that is human nature.
I know those are bitter words, but mind you, I'm only writing what I think without disguising it with nice words, I'm a hypocrite myself, because I can only be honest like this when I know those who might stumble upon it don't know who I am. Here I don't have a name or a face, you don't know me, so I feel free to say whatever the hell I want without fear of what the consequences may be. I'm am positive no one I know will ever read this, therefore I am fearless, theoretically speaking.
Just had a brainfart btw, so I'm changing subjects if only briefly before I finish this post.
My sister came to us on Sunday, I kindda expected her to stop by, after all, it WAS mother's day, and the bitch owes our mother at least that. In all honesty, I didn't even know she was here, I was asleep, and given the fact that I usually just ignore her presence after the first five minutes of her rare visits, my guess is no one bothered to wake me to save me the trouble of sitting in the same room as her while trying to pretend to care about whatever shit she's talking about (in other words, money, how her job sucks, what new thing her redneck bastard lover is up to and what she's bought ever since her last visit).
Now, before you go on and pass judgment and crown me as the worst sibling in the history of mankind, second only to Cain himself, let me summarize the last four years of my relationship with my sister.
My sister and I had always been together, we even slept on the same bed until well into our teens (as creepy as that may sound). In fact, we spent so much time together at home, we wouldn't spent much time together at school. She's a year younger and we both had our own friends, it wasn't that big of a deal, given that we are quite literally polar opposites. People often think we're twins, but that's as far as the resemblance goes. (just in case you don't get it yet, she's a dog, I'm a cat/she's gold, I'm silver/I'm black and she's white and so freakin' on) It never quite bothered me to be distant at school, the gods know I was actually glad that I got a chance to breathe my own air for a few hours. But as we grew up, we became closer, best friends even. She would tell me everything about her, I'd talk to her about the things that bothered me and so on. I thought she was as honest as I was with her, but it all turned out to be a mask.
She suddenly decided to join the army when she was on her first year of college. I was kindda shocked that she of all people would want to do something like that *she's the girliest, whiniest girl to have ever lived*, but I figured that us coming from a military family, she just wanted to follow on our predecessor's steps. I supported her as much as my prideful emotions would allow *I'm a conundrum, stick around and you'll find out just how contradicting I am*. The day came when she left for basic training, and shortly after me moved to NC, in great part to be closer to her. She was discharged just a week before her graduation due to medical issues and when she came back to live with us, she was a different person, or should I say, she was herself more than ever.
Her inner, selfish little critter came out, and she became an obnoxious bitch. I blamed it on her training, perhaps she was frustrated, maybe depressed, who the hell knew? I just refused to believe that she was really that ugly a person. One day she told me she was going to run away from our house, about a month before our dad had a complicated surgery on his ankle. I pleaded with her, asked her to please talk to us if something was bothering, to at least wait until my dad's recovery was done, after a few days of negotiations, she promised me she'd wait until after the surgery *yeah, because she wouldn't talk to us about what bothered her no matter what* We used to work together, and one day I was working and she was off, she just jumped out of our window and left while I was at work.
That afternoon after work, I came home to the most dreadful silence I have ever experienced. It was one of the most awkward things to get in the car with a damn pastry for my sister and find out she was gone, just like that. My heart sank and I think I cried enough to water our yard for a good year. I was angry, sad, confused, but overall, I felt betrayed, by none other than my own sister.
There are really no words to explain just how pissed I was afterwards. Dealing with a torn house almost broke me. My mother went into full denial, replacing sadness with resentment and anger, my father became even more depressed, my brother was also angry and me, being the emotional equivalent of a comatose earthworm, simply bottled things up and kept a straight face for everyone.
I won't lie though, I cried the first night without her by my side. And it wasn't because I missed her, we'd been apart during her training and I was fine, but it was the fact that things would never be the same between us, the fact that she'd betrayed me and that I may never see her again *the whore did write a letter saying she was leaving the state and not coming back* It broke me, as corny as that sounds.
Then a few months after she reappeared, acting like nothing happened, to tell my parents what she said was "the truth", in other words, to reveal that all our lives we lived THINKING we knew her. It was very confusing for everyone, and it angered me, so much so, to this day, I haven't fully forgiven her, and I know I never will. I'm a vindictive little bitch, and I can and will hold a grudge until the day I die, even against her.
Hence why she's usually referred to as "the bitch" or something along those lines.
So, on to what my point was...
Last Sunday she came over, and after much prodding and asking, my parents finally got her to say why she's been so out of it during her last visits. It turns out, the disgusting piece of trailer-park shit she's living with has been abusing her verbally and emotionally for the last few months, she says he's never laid a finger on her, but with her you can only believe half of what she says.
My father asked her if she wanted to leave the redneck bastard and she said yes, for the first time in 4 years she seemed to have made a decision that made sense. So with that plan in mind, they woke me up so we could take her to get her things together.
Now, my father is a man of the law, he was both a cop and a soldier, and being street smart as hell, he decided to take the police along to prevent things from getting ugly. Around 3p.m. we arrived at her house with two cops behind us. After the dipshit calmed down, she went in and grabbed as many of her clothes as she could. Mind you, all the while, her cracker jack is talking shit because in his narrow, deluded, paranoid excuse of a head WE had manipulated her into her decision.
After all her stuff was in our trunk, we left, only to have the little bitch go back to him the moment we got back home.
Now, had she stayed, she would have had all my support, I would have set everything aside and helped her, but after what she did after we went through all that trouble, I say FUCKIT. I love to help people and even more if they're my blood, but if I throw someone a rope and they still drown because they wouldn't grab on to it, I won't feel an ounce of sadness or regret. So from now on, we're back to "she-can-kiss-my-ass" terms.
I would try to understand what she's done had we been raised in a home where our parents abused each other, or where women are passive little creatures that do as told, but things are not like that. My mother's a strong, powerful woman, and enabler of her daughters and fierce defender of her family., in other words she does not take shit from anyone, and she and my father are equals in their relationship. Our mom empowered us, she encouraged being independent, pride in being women and respect for ourselves and our blood above everything else. I most certainly can't understand why my sister is acting the way she is, or maybe I can, she's become dependent of that asshole and it saddens me to a point.
I pray to the goddess I never become a measly shell of a woman like her. I pray she opens her eyes and realizes her life is going to Hades before it's too late.
Stupid bitch...
Saturday, May 10, 2008
The brown dwarf
Last night I decided I would give posting another try when I woke up, so here I am. Just so you know, I have never been one to keep journals or any record of my life. I think It's pointless and sometimes even incriminating. Really, why keep a written record of all your mistakes in your room, so you run the risk of someone finding it and knowing just how much you suck as a human being?
The whole purpose of getting a blog is to get the things that are constantly bothering me in my head out. Here goes...
The title does not refer to dark-skinned little people or chocolate oompa-loompas, I'm talking about celestial bodies that category-wise are smack between giant gas planets and tiny red stars, in other words, star wannabes.
Yes, I'm a brown dwarf, a wannabe of horrendous proportions. Remember how I couldn't quite explain my personality? It's mostly because of this. I'm a mom wannabe, a wife wannabe, a successful woman wannabe, a student wannabe, a many things wannabe, hell, I'm even a corpse wannabe.
If you were to ask those closest to me how I am as a person, the most likely outcome would be you getting descriptions so different you would wonder if they're all talking about the same person.
Here is me according to others:
My parents
To them I'm this dedicated daughter that would do anything for them. A bit of a neurotic and a hopeless antisocial child, a sometimes too distant, too scientific person. But I'm also this distracted bimbo who thinks "the world is Disney Land", who misses an abnormally high number of jokes and is weird enough to keep them on edge sometimes.
My Brother
I Know to him I'm a bit of a confidant, a a whole lot of pain in the ass. He and I are very alike personality-wise. And I know for a fact that I'm the only family member who he can be openly gay around. He knows I'll never say anything, that I'm actually proud of the fact that he accepts and embraces his sexuality and that even though we fight like cats an dogs, he can always count on me when he needs to.
My sister
That bitch... That phrase is one that will usually accompany any mention of her. She deserves it, just so you know. In any case, to her I'm a righteous bitch, the perfect daughter and an idiot. She resents the fact that I wasn't a coward like she was and I stayed here. She can bite my ass.
My co-workers
They all seems to have very individual, very different views of me. To my girls I'm a freak, a bit of a wolf in sheep's clothing. They come to me asking for sexual advise. If they only knew I'm technically a virgin... I think their jaws would touch the floor, I know I'd laugh my ass off. To my boys, I'm mostly a surprise, the polar opposite of what they thought I was like. To them I'm a boy's girl, someone whom they can be guys around without the fear of offending girly charms.
To my superiors I'm reliable, a leader and someone with the potential to go up in the company.
My RL friends
As with my co-workers they all have varying opinions.
My online friends
I'm a leader, a dark little creature, a threat, a great ally, a fearsome enemy. I would venture to say they are the ones closer to knowing the real me. Online there's no inhibitions, and I make full use of that little, un-spoken rule.
I always try to be honest and I speak my mind regardless of who it may affect. I have always believed that honesty is a virtue, even if the truth is worse than a lie, I'd rather stick to it. As a result of this, I tend to be brutally honest sometimes. See if I care.
Moving on to what's bothering me today, I have found myself thinking about my current relationship a lot more than usual lately. These are thoughts that bother me and make me wonder exactly what the hell is it that I want and what is it that I expect out of what we have.
Just so you know, I have never met my boyfriend In real life. Yes, I'm one of those lunatics that venture into the obscure realm of Online dating.
Mind you, I didn't sink all the way down to using a dating service, our thing started out by accident you could say. After all, who the hell goes into the Adultswim.com's forums looking for love? No one, that's who. Just like everyone else, I was just curious to see what the website had to offer, maybe hang out at the forums. I was 17, no rush really, I was just looking for gratuitous amusement. It was there where I met him. As far as I know, he was pretty much looking for the same. We started talking and goofing, and in good times name, and before I knew it, I found myself attracted to this absolute stranger who seemed to share so many of my views.
Mind you, we didn't start dating right away, it took almost four years for us to actually become a couple. Out of those years, we didn't have any contact for almost a year and when we started talking again, it was like we'd never stopped talking at all. Almost three years ago we became "official", 8 months later I ruined everything because of several things. He was away most of the time, making me feel distant, unwanted even, someone I thought was my friend decided she liked him and wanted him, I in turn was driven into the arms of another friend of mine, whom I dated for a short period of time.
I never meant for any of this to happen and in all honesty, I said "yes" to this other fri4end because I didn't want to hurt him. How absolutely stupid is that? I was stuck In that loveless hell for about 5 months. I won't lie to you, what kept me with him for so long was lust, not love, not even a pinch of it.
After that short, chaotic period, my dearest said something that shook me to my core. He would fight for me, and as cheesy as it sounded, I felt like I was worth something for the first time in a very long time.
So we got back together.
And now apathy threatens to kill "US" once more.
Our future is so uncertain it makes me want to cry. We fantasize about one day one of us catches a bus and suddenly appears at the others door, we meet, we hug, we finally kiss and say I love you to each other's face. It sounds like a cheap ass lifetime movie moment, but I'm such a hopeless romantic that I can't help grinning like a moron with a glint in my eye every time I think about that chick-flick scenario.
Then it hits me, the unnerving wall called reality drops on me leaving me desolate.
I know I'll never have the balls to just climb on a bus to meet this man that lives over a thousand miles away from me. My common sense won't allow it, that, and the fact that I would have to explain to my parents where I'm going to meet this guy I've never seen. That would be quite the spectacle, considering how paranoid they are.
And I know he'll never come to see me, for pretty much the same reasons, and because we are both so comfortable in our own zones, that we don't want to venture stepping out of them if only for a few days.
Thinking about those things makes me question the validity of our relationship, makes me wonder what the point in staying together like this. Makes me seriously consider braking up with him. But that's where I stop myself. My pride won't allow it, neither will my heart. I refuse to be the one that ends it.
Maybe I will allow my gift for self sabotage to take over and ruin things for both of us....
I'm a disgusting human being.
The whole purpose of getting a blog is to get the things that are constantly bothering me in my head out. Here goes...
The title does not refer to dark-skinned little people or chocolate oompa-loompas, I'm talking about celestial bodies that category-wise are smack between giant gas planets and tiny red stars, in other words, star wannabes.
Yes, I'm a brown dwarf, a wannabe of horrendous proportions. Remember how I couldn't quite explain my personality? It's mostly because of this. I'm a mom wannabe, a wife wannabe, a successful woman wannabe, a student wannabe, a many things wannabe, hell, I'm even a corpse wannabe.
If you were to ask those closest to me how I am as a person, the most likely outcome would be you getting descriptions so different you would wonder if they're all talking about the same person.
Here is me according to others:
My parents
To them I'm this dedicated daughter that would do anything for them. A bit of a neurotic and a hopeless antisocial child, a sometimes too distant, too scientific person. But I'm also this distracted bimbo who thinks "the world is Disney Land", who misses an abnormally high number of jokes and is weird enough to keep them on edge sometimes.
My Brother
I Know to him I'm a bit of a confidant, a a whole lot of pain in the ass. He and I are very alike personality-wise. And I know for a fact that I'm the only family member who he can be openly gay around. He knows I'll never say anything, that I'm actually proud of the fact that he accepts and embraces his sexuality and that even though we fight like cats an dogs, he can always count on me when he needs to.
My sister
That bitch... That phrase is one that will usually accompany any mention of her. She deserves it, just so you know. In any case, to her I'm a righteous bitch, the perfect daughter and an idiot. She resents the fact that I wasn't a coward like she was and I stayed here. She can bite my ass.
My co-workers
They all seems to have very individual, very different views of me. To my girls I'm a freak, a bit of a wolf in sheep's clothing. They come to me asking for sexual advise. If they only knew I'm technically a virgin... I think their jaws would touch the floor, I know I'd laugh my ass off. To my boys, I'm mostly a surprise, the polar opposite of what they thought I was like. To them I'm a boy's girl, someone whom they can be guys around without the fear of offending girly charms.
To my superiors I'm reliable, a leader and someone with the potential to go up in the company.
My RL friends
As with my co-workers they all have varying opinions.
My online friends
I'm a leader, a dark little creature, a threat, a great ally, a fearsome enemy. I would venture to say they are the ones closer to knowing the real me. Online there's no inhibitions, and I make full use of that little, un-spoken rule.
I always try to be honest and I speak my mind regardless of who it may affect. I have always believed that honesty is a virtue, even if the truth is worse than a lie, I'd rather stick to it. As a result of this, I tend to be brutally honest sometimes. See if I care.
Moving on to what's bothering me today, I have found myself thinking about my current relationship a lot more than usual lately. These are thoughts that bother me and make me wonder exactly what the hell is it that I want and what is it that I expect out of what we have.
Just so you know, I have never met my boyfriend In real life. Yes, I'm one of those lunatics that venture into the obscure realm of Online dating.
Mind you, I didn't sink all the way down to using a dating service, our thing started out by accident you could say. After all, who the hell goes into the Adultswim.com's forums looking for love? No one, that's who. Just like everyone else, I was just curious to see what the website had to offer, maybe hang out at the forums. I was 17, no rush really, I was just looking for gratuitous amusement. It was there where I met him. As far as I know, he was pretty much looking for the same. We started talking and goofing, and in good times name, and before I knew it, I found myself attracted to this absolute stranger who seemed to share so many of my views.
Mind you, we didn't start dating right away, it took almost four years for us to actually become a couple. Out of those years, we didn't have any contact for almost a year and when we started talking again, it was like we'd never stopped talking at all. Almost three years ago we became "official", 8 months later I ruined everything because of several things. He was away most of the time, making me feel distant, unwanted even, someone I thought was my friend decided she liked him and wanted him, I in turn was driven into the arms of another friend of mine, whom I dated for a short period of time.
I never meant for any of this to happen and in all honesty, I said "yes" to this other fri4end because I didn't want to hurt him. How absolutely stupid is that? I was stuck In that loveless hell for about 5 months. I won't lie to you, what kept me with him for so long was lust, not love, not even a pinch of it.
After that short, chaotic period, my dearest said something that shook me to my core. He would fight for me, and as cheesy as it sounded, I felt like I was worth something for the first time in a very long time.
So we got back together.
And now apathy threatens to kill "US" once more.
Our future is so uncertain it makes me want to cry. We fantasize about one day one of us catches a bus and suddenly appears at the others door, we meet, we hug, we finally kiss and say I love you to each other's face. It sounds like a cheap ass lifetime movie moment, but I'm such a hopeless romantic that I can't help grinning like a moron with a glint in my eye every time I think about that chick-flick scenario.
Then it hits me, the unnerving wall called reality drops on me leaving me desolate.
I know I'll never have the balls to just climb on a bus to meet this man that lives over a thousand miles away from me. My common sense won't allow it, that, and the fact that I would have to explain to my parents where I'm going to meet this guy I've never seen. That would be quite the spectacle, considering how paranoid they are.
And I know he'll never come to see me, for pretty much the same reasons, and because we are both so comfortable in our own zones, that we don't want to venture stepping out of them if only for a few days.
Thinking about those things makes me question the validity of our relationship, makes me wonder what the point in staying together like this. Makes me seriously consider braking up with him. But that's where I stop myself. My pride won't allow it, neither will my heart. I refuse to be the one that ends it.
Maybe I will allow my gift for self sabotage to take over and ruin things for both of us....
I'm a disgusting human being.
Friday, May 9, 2008
'tis the vicious cycle...
To whoever may stumble upon this;
Please do feel free to rolls your eyes at the title of this post and venture a little further down, you will most certainly find out why I decided to use it, I promise.
I won't lie, this is not my first blog. Shame on me, I lost my blogging virginity to non other than Livejournal, which incidentally, I abandoned a few months after I signed up. Since then a few more have followed and been abandoned. It's a somewhat yearly ritual of mine, be stressed, get blog/journal, rant on an almost daily basis, regret the things I so willingly posted, maybe delete a post or two, eventually lose all interest, neglect posting until I forget the damn thing exists, rinse and repeat.
Hence the tittle.
Wait, that last part kindda doesn't make sense does it?
Who cares anyway? You might be wondering who is this person making you waste your precious time when you could be watching amusing stuff on youtube?
Well, I'm nothing interesting really, I'm an average, twenty something gal. I won't lie to you, if we were standing in a room full of people, you would most likely not notice my presence. That's how mundane a creature I am. 5'6" tall, short hair dyed red, brown eyes, chubby, if you were to actually see me you would notice I'm not white right away, even though I'm pale to an almost unhealthy level.
Don't ask me about my personality, I have never been able to describe myself accurately, I'm always at a loss when it comes to how I am. Just read and feel free to come up with your own conclusion, it's much better that way.
I make a living being nice to a lot of people I would rather punch in the face, no, I'm not a professional brown nose, believe me, ass-kissery is one of those things I'm really, REALLY bad at. I'm at the bottom of the administrative ladder at a patient transport department, A.K.A. a dispatcher. What exactly does that mean? It means I sit at a desk for 8.5 hours, taking orders for four hospital departments and I manage the flow of work for all of them. It may sound easy, but believe me, it's not. I'd try to summarize what I do at work, but it's a tedious, absurdly long explanation not matter how short I try to make it, so I'll spare you.
I'm already high on sleeping pills and pain killers, so I'll stop here. If you feel like reading a young woman's rants about nonsensical shit, stick around, I'll help you regret the moment you read this. ;)
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