|
Friday, Oct. 29, 2004 / 5:40 p.m. ~A Brief Visit to Unload~ It's beginning to seem like I only come here to write out my angst, like the good stuff, the lighthearted, the humorous, the political, the everyday mundane that is always fun to read, is elsewhere, and this is the repository of all the garbage, the gut wrenching soul searching navel gazing who the hell would want to read this? crap. Ah, well, so it goes. It's whittled down nicely here anyway, no more flame wars, no more lurkers, just the steady stream of regulars who like to watch. I've called you sick before, but I'm the sick one, for I am the exhibitionist. But then again, this way, as it is now, since I don't know you and you remain in the shadows, it's all okay. Like your eye isn't even visible behind the hole in the wall. I'm pretending you're not even there. Once again a fast new friend is not going to remain a friend. There is no such thing as unconditional love, and there have only been two people who loved me in spite of who I really am. My mother and Mark. Why yes, I believe Mark really did care for me deeply, and let's call it love, for the sake of this entry here and now. I had not the necessary physical attraction to make it work, to consider a long lasting love relationship with him, a romance, if you will, and while I loved his friendship, and noticed that he took all I had to dish out, and came back for more, only finally leaving when I indicated I was totally and in no uncertain terms serious, I hated that he was merely a mirror, always reflecting only my good side. I have a bad side, I have many sides, all told, and I can't be surrounded by even one sycophant for too long before I distrust every word from his mouth. Every single word. Nothing held meaning, it was all lies, because I had real mirrors that showed me what I really needed to see. I am moody, but we all are. I have highs, but we all have them, and mine are really high, not manic, but I love so many things with such great passion, and I have lows, but we all have those too, and mine can be very low, deep pits of despair low, lower than most, but if you've been there too, well, we can nod in agreement on this part. We can share it, we can empathize, we can commiserate, but please let us share our highs, and let us share the mundane as well as the highly intellectual, and let us have a common interest in pop culture, and when I'm silent, ask me why, and when I'm low, ask about that too, and if I need to cry, hand me a tissue, and when I lash out, stop and listen to why, give me ten minutes, let me let it out and notice how it dissipates, like a sudden summertime cloudburst. All sunshine and birds singing when it's over. But don't turn away from me, and don't keep secrets, and don't run, don't hide, don't avoid me if you think I'm mad. I need to let every one of these feelings out, I am not one to bottle any of it up, I don't believe in the bottling. One more person is not the right person, one more does not want to know who I am, nor even try to learn, to get inside, nor to share the bad with the good. And one more person disappointingly does not share any of my passions. One more person doesn't get me, and never will, and one more person came on so strong, so completely strong he had me convinced this time. Despite all I was hearing inside my heart, my head, my gut, not just whispers of warning, but shouts and screams that it wasn't right at all, not one bit. One might even say I'm overreacting now, but I know every signal, I see it all in front of me, like cards are face up on this table, this time too, and it's not as hard as in the past. Maybe the attachment didn't lie deeply enough, maybe there wasn't enough time, maybe there never was enough feeling there to leave me hurt like before. But it's sad just the same. I'm sad, and more than anything, once again, I am severely disappointed. Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)
Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
  |