Angst

It's amazing how often I can just completely obsess about one girl for so long that she could quite possibly forget who I am. Seriously, I've documented it in my old livejournal, and it's as reliable a cycle as the one that makes it rain. Can't remember the name of that one, don't particularly care to.

What's truly bothersome is when, in the middle of me getting signals that she doesn't even care if I exist, she butts in and acts like we're close friends. Yet when I try to do the same thing, I get nothing.

Seriously, as it stands right now, I'm probably in the worst position I've been in, because I've basically got all the classes I want, a general sense of cameraderie with the other people in my classes, and yet I've got an albatross around my neck that's making me feel like getting into a drunken stupor as soon as possible would actually be a good idea. All because she doesn't actually seem to want to talk to me, and I've tried too many times to think it'd be a good idea to try again.

Okay, I think that's somewhat out of my system. I don't really have more to say about that anyway.

Today I should wash my sheets, and then go to the gym. Oh, and buy that last book for my Drama writing class. And email my last assignment to the teacher. And then check the latest assignment. And finish writing that sketch for my Comedy class. And read the poems, and the article, for my Poetry class.

Wow... I didn't realize just how much stuff that was until I wrote it out. Well, okay, quite a few of those things could be accomplished after my American Novel class. It's just a much bigger load than I expected...

I'll try to get all the way through this...

You see, as my computer is being slow today (and I mean really slow, I have to wait a second just to start scrolling on every single webpage I visit, and two seconds to click any links), I might not have the energy to finish this, but I really just want to write an entry.

So, next Monday I'll have my 21st birthday. Of course, I won't be able to celebrate by drinking into a stupor immediately that night, as I have class in the morning. However, the following weekend I'll probably be in a constant drunken state. I guess.

I haven't really celebrated my birthday much at all since before middle school. I've had the occasional party, but nothing truly celebratory. I just feel like, to have any kind of celebration, I'd have to organize it myself, and I'm not really that interested in it. Besides, a birthday party shouldn't really be about the person having the birthday celebrating.

I really have no idea what I'm talking about right now. I guess I'm just trying to shirk responsibility. All I know is, if I buy myself a cake, I feel like an ass. I'm just going to feel more depressed than I already am if I take control of my own birthday, so it's just going to be another day unless someone decides otherwise.

Meanwhile, I've got to go home for the Maine caucus on the tenth, right before my birthday. My mom's running the local Democratic caucus, so I'm kind of obligated to vote there, rather than in Boston.

I think I'm pretty much going with Obama. Hillary Clinton manages to be a centrist who's pre-alienated a lot of people. So, basically, she's got everyone on the other side to not like her while also maintaining a close position to those people on most issues. Whereas Obama's got people on the other side to like him, while most of his positions are far more liberal.

Plus, he's kind of like what Kennedy was supposed to be back in the 60s. And I kind of wish I'd been in the 60s.

It's not so much that the computer stops registering my typing, but that it finishes loading and all of my typing comes in as if I was the one who'd stopped. And sometimes I can get pretty far ahead of the computer. But I have no idea why this is happening. It looks like someone else is typing and I'm watching in real-time. It's disturbing.

I'm back

Okay, so here's the deal; my life's been boring since my last post. Not much seems to happen.

Then, because I was feeling depressed, I decided I'd read over my old livejournal. You know, to get more depressed.

Anyway, I realized that, as much as it was all a repetitive exercise in varying degrees of depression, some interesting stuff came out of working on that. As long as I kept updating it, I was a little more sane, too. As long as I thought about what I was doing, it was good.

Of course, I don't actually want to restart my livejournal, so I went back to this thing. I hadn't logged into this for so long that I couldn't even remember the password, and neither could my computer.

Of course, I'm going to have to keep these short for now. My computer's been so slow lately that I can't even keep typing for a minute or two without it stopping to catch up, which is really annoying. Hell, the internet connection's been really bad all around lately.

Ah, well. More later.

What My Day Looks Like Tomorrow

Because it's a conglomeration of just how unlucky I am

And I've written about that before.

But yeah, tomorrow, I start off the day with Poetry, and I don't even know what I have to do for that right now.

Then, in Math, I've got a quiz. Which would be easy, except I have no idea if I've retained any of the information, since as good as I am at math, I fall asleep in every class, no matter how much I want to pay attention to the information, or how cool the teacher is (this teacher is just okay, but I was falling asleep in AP Calculus and the teacher then was fricken awesome). Also, I haven't gotten the textbook for the class yet. Incredible, huh?

Oh, and then I've got Non-fiction. I've got to lead a discussion on a somewhat bland piece, and probably have some knowledge of one of the other pieces we'll be discussing, I really have no idea what we're doing. Not to mention the fact that the piece is just somewhat bland. Which means that it's hard to say precisely why it's not affecting me. If it was good, it would be easy to find the problems, and thus discuss those weaknesses easily. If it was bad, I'd have a treasure trove of weaknesses to discuss, and a strength or two to mention. But it's bland. Which means the strengths and weaknesses are somewhat subtle. And trying to critique things like this make me feel childish for not getting something.

But really, the worst is in Lit Foundations. Never mind the reading that I haven't actually started yet. No, the real problem is that I've got a paper due for the class, too. The class itself shouldn't be that hard, I've survived and stayed awake so far. Not only that, but last year I wouldn't have been this far along in my paper by 10:30 the night before. And as for the reading; if I can at least get some of it done, I should be absolutely golden. The trouble is, it's quite possible that working on this stuff will make the rest of the day worse. If I'm up late finishing this paper, I might not even be able to stay awake through the test. I'd also be unable to keep my thoughts straight during the discussion. But if I don't do this Lit stuff now, I won't have time to take care of the stuff for Non-fiction.

I really should have noticed this earlier. I might have been able to switch out my time slot for leading discussion.

And another thing

There's another thing that I'd like to say about everyone I know. Not just my friends, but everyone.

You see, I realized recently that I want absolutely nothing beyond those basic animalistic urges (food, sex, sleep). And not in a "I have everything I need" kind of way. More like "I have no idea what I want" kind of way. Somehow, I've been completely purged of any desire whatsoever. And I blame everyone.

You see, a year and a half ago I had to force some friends to tell me what they were saying behind my back. You'd think I wouldn't want to hear it, but I did. Because it was important stuff that would probably have benefitted from me knowing earlier. Their excuse was that they didn't want to hurt my feelings. I have no idea if they were lying when they kept repeating that I was "too nice of a guy," but it basically amounts to the same thing; people seem to want to do the things they think I need, rather than what I want.

Everybody does it. I don't usually get a chance to state my opinion. It's gotten to the point where I've been conditioned to just accept whatever anyone else thinks is best for me, and I can't tell what I actually want. Normal people would be motivated. I'm just stagnated.

I just can't tell anymore, whether it's my fault or theirs, and I can't sleep with this on my mind.

I suck at friendship, basically. I can't tell if it's bad luck or some problem with me, but I've never been able to maintain a friendship. It's probably me, but not for lack of trying, and because every attempt I make feels like I'm barely getting any effort from the other end, I just start resenting my friends for abandoning me every time I don't hear from anyone for more than a month.

Did I mention that I can sometimes go without speaking to anyone for a full week. It's happened. I don't know why. I don't know how. It really, truly hurts. You'd think it wouldn't be physically painful, but it is. It actually is.

If anyone's reading this...

I've got nowhere else to write this out at this point, but I've been feeling lately like every single friendship I've ever made has been completely one-sided. That's not to say that my friends don't think of me as a friend. I think they do. What I think they don't do is remember me.

Basically, in every friendship I've made, I've only ever been invited along to something if I'm lucky. I get the feeling that these people I consider my friends will do this often, but not with me. I'm only brought along if I'm standing right there. No one thinks to ask me to come along otherwise. No one will ever go out of their way for me.

I'm kind of in a catch-22. No one actually wants to do something when I organize it, but no one asks me to come along if I don't. I try to tell people that I feel left out, but I don't know who to tell, and a general announcement is all I can manage, and no one seems to pay attention to me when I complain about my life.

And, of course, it could be that I'm a poor friend to have, but I put that down to having no experience. I basically get the previews when people remember to include me, but I can't get tickets to the movie, and everyone else is already talking about the sequel, when I haven't seen yet because no one's letting me see that first movie. Basically, I can't understand how to be a better person because no one wants to hurt my feelings, and thus help me along. Well, besides listen to my problems. Which, of course, is all I'll ever need to feel better about myself. A few psychologists to talk to.

Seriously, whenever people do try to solve my problems, they treat me like a mentally retarded person they're oh-so-graciously being nice to. They don't realize it, but they just make me feel inferior. It seems paradoxical, given that my original complaint is that no one reaches out to me, but there are shades of gray here. Specifically, my problem is that no one reaches out to me in a way that doesn't feel like some kind of charity. It's a subtle difference, but I can feel it. It's the difference between being invited along because they think I'd want to come, and inviting me along because they feel sorry for me. Or, listening to my problems in the understanding that I'll listen to theirs, and listening to my problems because I just seem so troubled.

The biggest catch-22 is that I mostly put up my shell to keep people from having to deal with my problems if they don't want to hear it. But people seem to interpret me in such weird ways because of it, and rather than, say...

God, I don't even know what I'm trying to say here. I'm just lonely, and even though I've supposedly amassed quite a few friends, over the past month I've barely seen any of them, and none have actually seemed to wonder what I'm up to. Over the past year, the primary thing I've learned has been that, if I'm not trying to constantly show up in the faces of my friends, they will not bother to do more than have a polite conversation if we pass by each other. They will not make any effort to be friends with me if I step down my efforts to be that annoying guy who no one really likes but is always there. I can't have alone time for more than a day, because they will forget.

It's not true, but then again; no one's proven me wrong. And I wish I was using hyperbole.

I don't know if there's anyone who reads this anymore...

... Or if anyone ever did. It's almost impossible to tell. I haven't updated in more than a month, but this is better than Livejournal, so this is my official blog and it shall be that way. For a long time. Or for a few more months, who really cares?

Anyway, I don't have a subject for today, except to note that my dad said something to me the other day that pretty much sums up my life: I always find some excuse to never finish anything.