I started writing another post, but I just trashed it. It was about childhood, and it got too emotional. It’s Friday night, I’m drinking and listening to The Arcade Fire. I’d be less emotional if I drank more, but the shots are going down slowly tonight. I feel shit bubbling up again. And I am really getting bored of having to wake up for work early in the morning. I’d much rather be out tonight, with humans that I enjoy. I miss my dude-friends. And I miss my lady-friends too, but not as much. Well, some. I miss Aje most of all. She always makes me smiley.
Anyway, I do feel myself slowly going off the hinges. No, not like major nervous breakdowns, but… things are going to change soon. I’m like that fucking dog that can smell an earthquake from two days before it happens. Hmmm… I’m going to hypothesize now. About the future. Near future.
Let’s see. Hmm… Uhh… Okay, I have no idea. Shit. No, that’s a lie. I know, I’m just scared to talk about it. Scared to talk about it HERE. How fucked up is that? My own little sanctuary has betrayed me?? Fuck it, god damn it. I don’t care who reads it, it has to be said.
I don’t know if I can keep seeing hot tattoo artist chick. I’m thinking about it for the last 15 minutes, and I am all jammed up about it. I made her a mix CD like a month ago, and I think she still hasn’t listened to it. Of course, that’s not a big deal. But it kind of is, to me. Symbolically, at least. And in general, she’s kinda just calling all the shots too. I mean, I don’t know. She seems to want a certain type of thing in her life right now. And I can tell she likes me, and we enjoy our time together. But I get the idea that she’s sorta just hoping that I can fit into the mold of the type-of person she needs right now, even though I probably won’t fit. And, let’s not forget, I am pretty intent on not being molded right now. My last relationship was ALL about compromising the shit out of my self and my principles, and not getting much in return. And now, the same thing’s happening with Ginny. I have a ton of mental problems with sex (due to the last few years of my life), and I swore I wasn’t going to fuck anyone until I sorted them out. And then she kinda dragged me into it with all of her sexiness. And then I told her, “If we’re really going to have some great sex on a regular basis, I think I should probably tell you about my baggage, and why I quit sex in the first place. So I can start getting over it.” But she doesn’t like talking, so we’re not going to have that talk. But she still wants to fuck. And I get the impression that if I say to her, “I can’t have sex with you anymore,” I don’t think she’d ever call me again.
It’s shitty. I just wanted to be her friend. And then I find out that she’s pretty incredible, and I’d probably like to be more than friends with her eventually. But really, we’re either just gonna be fuck-friends, or we’re going to be nothing at all. Because that’s what she wants, and she’s going to get what she wants, because she is not going to settle for anything other than WHAT SHE WANTS right now. Which is completely reasonable, and I applaud her for it. But, the only way I could give her exactly what she wants would be for me to compromise what I want.
And it’s weird. Because I really WANT to have sex with her at this point. But I also feel like I HAVE to have sex with her, or she won’t see me anymore. And I’m not good at doing things I HAVE to do, even when I do WANT to do them.
See? I didn’t want to write this, I didn’t feel comfortable. Because this is my thought process. And she is probably going to waltz in, read this, and then subsequently tell me we’re not going to hang out anymore. And that sucks because I enjoy her more than I’ve enjoyed anyone since that other girl (the one that later died, the one that I’m not supposed to have felt anything for) a couple years ago.
The basic problem is that she doesn’t want to talk. And I have a lot of holes in me, and the only way out for me is to talk. I mean, I can’t trust her unless I can talk to her. I need to tell her a few secrets, and I need to see her face when I tell her my secrets, and I need to see in her face that she understands. And I don’t think she’ll let any of that happen.
So I think, by my writing this, I probably just either ended the thing, or just made it too weird to come back from. I’m sorry for that. But no. I can’t be sorry. Again, all I’ve done for years is be sorry for who I am. Which is exactly why I didn’t want to get into a thing with a woman again anytime soon. So no. I will not be sorry. A good lay is not worth the self-loathing. I’ve got some baggage issues, and I warn everybody about that from the start. I gave this one very fair warning. And I made it known that it could be quite easy for me to get over said baggage issues, if I could just talk them out a little and explain them. And so, if you don’t even want to take the time to listen, and if you genuinely have no interest in actually knowing me or understanding me, not even enough so that I can have an easier time suiting your needs, if it’s not worth even that much to you, then fuck it.
I’m kind of a dick?? Everybody says it. But yet, I am the one that constantly compromises for the sake of other people. I am always shutting my mouth and just dealing with shit, because I want other people to be happy and comfortable. I want to give people pleasure, be it cerebral or physical. And I want to be liked. And I want to be cared about. And I want to be respected. But I am tired of being a fucking doormat. And the craziest part is that this is all perfectly reasonable of me. But I’m pretty sure that this blog entry is going to get me into a situation that makes me feel sad and lonely, because that’s how people are in this world.
When I was younger, I used to punch things out of frustration. Walls, trees, cars, mailboxes, whatever. I gave that up because it scared some people. But now, I have no outlet for this kind of frustration. So I just sit with it. The best I can do, in my old age with my old grey hairs, is to listen to music that would normally make me cry if I was in a better mood.
I don’t believe in any God-type-things. But I do sometimes pray that the world would just… be a little nicer to me. Seriously, I literally fantasize about just catching a fucking break. One time. Like, why can’t I meet a nice weird girl that’s willing to bend herself a little bit to fit what I need? Why’s it always gotta be the other way ’round? Laaaaaame. And I know that’s whiny of me to say, but… I deserve to be able to whine about shit sometimes. I work hard at a job I don’t like, and I keep myself out of trouble, and I am trying to keep myself focused on my long-term goals… these are all fairly new things for me. So I think I have a right to whimper a little about shit not going my way. Right? RIGHT. Fuckers.