Poor guy. He was enjoying that little snack, and that bastard snatched right from his little hands…
EDIT: Joanna wants to make it clear that said poor guy is a WALLABY not a KANGAROO.
Poor fucking wallaby.
Whoops. Conversations were rehashed. Trouble.
What does it take for me to not get people to merely consider it, but to actually, you know, actually take a stab at it?
Is it the people I pick, or is it merely me?
Dammit.
Regret.
Regret.
Regret.
Can’t shake that.
What the fuck happened? And how did everything change so fast? So fast that I never was able to stand up on two feet and figure out what to do next.
Rest in peace Ford Contour.
You were a good car.
A good girl.
The transmission went today. Just gone. No more. Looks like it’ll cost more than the blue book value to repair.
I’m sorry gal. I might have to let you go.
There something nice to the randomness of dreams– that you never know what you are going to get. Of course, this is also a key flaw, since you aren’t allowed to chose what’s going to happen. And sometimes it takes things like that to draw out your subconscious and make you start thinking again. For shame.
I’ve been very good lately. I haven’t been deliberately looking into the past. No more rummaging through logs of conversations, rereading the drafts I wrote but decided (wisely I guess) not to post (oh yes people, it was worse!), or arguing what people FELT months ago. But. Sometimes, the past is inescapable. Someone sings (might be the Goo Goo Dolls?) about how scars are souvenirs of the past– just proving that it’s real, and very much a part of us. Sometimes I just get swallowed up in it. I know what was said. Trust me– I’m far better at memorizing dates, and quotes in context, and actions, and dreams, and hopes than I am at figuring out the barotropic vorticity of a fluid column on an isentropic surface. I can remember exactly what was said, exactly what I thought. *Sigh*
Sometimes I think I try to point fingers. I guess none of it is of no malicious intent. Everyone always claims “honesty” in all aspects. (Save for a couple key promises that I’m not sure were followed through) Part of me really wants to get angry, because I don’t think people get it. I mean, I have a funny feeling that people don’t really go through this– at least not nearly as much as I do (that’s not me sounding egotistical– I know my situation isn’t unique to merely me, but I’m also smart enough to realize that some people clearly are lucky enough that most things work out for them– they are the people that CAUSE me to have to deal with this). It just blows. Plain and simple, fucking sucks. People continually tell me, the worst feeling in the world is when you think and care about someone far more than they think or care about you. When you make up your mind, and you sit in suspension, waiting (hoping) for someone to come around. Yeah. No one needs to tell me that. My life has been a living, breathing example of that.
I just never had a chance to catch my breath. Three months ago, I started down the path– knowing full well this is likely where it’d end up. And I kept walking down the path, because that door was always open– albeit merely a crack. There were definitely times it was on more than others– it’s those nights that were interesting to be in my head. Of course, it’s those snippets that are what’s stuck in my head. That one comment that’d make a week worthwhile. Oh, you crazy, flawed, enticements. ‘Twas only three weeks ago, for like two fleeting days (oh, exciting days), I thought I had it. Maybe I had finally snuck my foot in the door. Maybe after all the letdowns, I might maybe get one shot. A shot at what, I’m not sure– and I didn’t care. It’s all I ever wanted. A chance. It’s all I ever want. I wasn’t it any mood to try to rationalize things– decide what was good or bad. I’m far beyond that point now. Get a chance, take said chance. I’m infinitely more satisfied failing, but failing after I was at least given a chance to fail. Oh, the regret, the regret. The lament. What could I have done differently, what could I have done to know what it’s like.
That’s been a recurring theme the last year. In every case, I never get the chance to fail. I inevitably waste time looking for something that in the end, just isn’t there. So many times, on so many levels, it’s implied that maybe I’ll at least get a chance– to see how things shake out. But each time, that’s all it it– just a tease, just a lead– intentional or not. Each time, every person A in my scenario ends up happy. Person Z– ends up lying awake at 5 AM. That’s a kick in the chest if I’ve ever felt one before. That part sucks as much as all the others. To sit back and watch someone else ultimately get what they want out of the whole thing. And it’s clearly not the same thing as what I want. To realize they’re happy– you’re not. And I have to physically watch that unfold each time.
Oh well. I’m kind of angry, but really not. Very disappointed. With myself? I guess. With others? Sure. Everything in general is kinda blurred. Each case is clearly a different one. They all have one unique thread however. Everyone else usually gets to go to the big dance. And I’m still standing on the sidelines, helmet tucked under my arm, waiting to get the call to play in the big game. Sometimes, I get the feeling that’s what I’m so re-gosh-darn-fucking angry about. Rejection happens, fine. I can deal. It’s this unnerving notion that I can get people to think hard enough to consider the possibility, but never to the same extent I do. I can’t get someone to think about me as much as I do them. It’s never a 0-100% is the problem. That’s just a pick up and move on– nothing to see here kinda thing. It’s always a 10-90% issue. I’m always good enough to get like 10%. And 10% is more than enough to keep me going. So rather than no buildup at all, I face my character flaw of climb, crash, climb, crash, climb, crash. And everytime I crash, I get more and more– gone.
I’m not good at turning feelings on and off. They kind of fester (bah, that sounds like such a negative word too) for a while. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. It keeps me from making hasty decisions, but it also does this. All I have left is a forced acceptance (resignation?) until I let it all escape– which comes with time– I know this because I’ve been down this road more times than I wish upon anyone else. All I’m going to say, is it’s going to be an interesting finish.
Bad day.
Repressing things is tough work.
Which is why I don’t typically condone this behavior.
So today, I’m driving to the bank to cash my tax refund check (money!) and I get a phone call. I answer, and don’t get the person I expect but just the phone held up next to what I must presume is a car stereo. “Just a small town girl. Living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere. Just a city boy. Born and raised in South Detroit. He took the midnight train goin’ anywhere.”
It’s not the first time either…
[11:07 PM] Ali: we listened to journey
[11:07 PM] Ali: i though of you
[01:23 AM] Jen J.: shit
[01:23 AM] Jen J.: journey is on
[01:23 AM] Jen J.: get your ass over here
[06:25 PM] Sean: so I was at an Aquabats show, and at one point they played “don’t stop believing” by Journey and I thought, man, Colin should be here
[12:15 AM] *** Auto-response from Jesse: Working hard to get my fill
Everybody wants a thrill
Paying anything to roll the dice
Just one more time
Some will win, some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on
That one goes out to mah boy, the Z-dog
That’s along with the countless times we’ll be listening to music, both here and home– where playing Journey becomes a necessity if I’m in the vicinity (I have a pretty mean rendition when I’m drunk– emphasis on mean). So as we can all see, the music of Journey prompts thoughts of me.
Eh.
Guess it’s better than nothing.
Oh how weird it all is. Everything I see, everything I do, everything I feel, everything I dream, everything I think about… all different, all novel.
Looking back on it, it’s been a terribly interesting twelve months…
So am I still merely in a “phase” or is it all a permanent change?
Oh.
Are you kidding me?
Dammit.
Maybe that was just what I needed.
Some friends.
Some risk-taking.
Some self-esteem boosts.
Some reality.
And some music, booze and fire.
You can’t ignore problems forever, but you can certainly push them aside for a little while…
I guess I’m done.
Done writing the directional, pointed posts. Done writing the posts with the oh so cryptic, but definately not so subtle meanings. The feelings themselves, well, they aren’t going to go away; at least– not immediately I suppose… but I acknowledge the fact that I “lost.” Not “lost” in the sense that it was a race (against time perhaps–), or a competition– I just– didn’t win. I guess I gave it a valiant effort, and I never really held anything back. Well I did hold SOMETHING back, but what I did hold back during those random moments of adventurousness looks like they’ll go down in history as the proper call(s). I don’t know, sometimes it’s terribly difficult to ponder; what would have happened had I not played it conservative? What would have happened had I neglected the consequences? What would have happened if I didn’t accept gray answers? If my presence wasn’t so “indulging”? If I made that dramatic, surprise appearance? If I didn’t spend months writing in the blog and beating around the bush…
Oh well. I guess, one of these days, something’ll work in my favor. Maybe I’ll find someone who is interested in me for more than 15 seconds at a time. Maybe I won’t get burned for putting my hand in the fire. At least, not third-degree style– I can take a little singeing here and there, if you know what I mean.
So I’ll accept defeat, and I’ll try to lessen the “emo tears” (Joanna’s words, not mind) pouring off your screen (no guarantees of course, we all can’t be George Foreman). It’s just been hard to kick it. I already miss the daily conversations (including the winks). (For those of you who are trying to get my attention, I’m an absolute sucker for people who make me the first person they talk to– in real life, or even online). I’m going to miss the attention I garnered (at least in my head I garnered it). I’m going to miss not having something (that something being pleasant) to think about before I go to sleep at night. Hell, I’m going to miss knowing that this doesn’t get read at least four times a day. *Sigh* Accepting it [defeat] is one thing, but it’s actually mildly frustrating to find the whole ordeal so… unfulfilling? Anticlimactic? Unsatisfying? A lot of hype in my brain, and then a walk off a cliff. Just straight down. Like I’m relegated to just forgetting about it. No drama. Nothing. Just a swift kick in the balls. I think, deep down, I knew. Maybe. Still… definitely not the ending that I hoped for… that I dreamed up. And trust me, they were some pretty good dreams. Pretty damn good.
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