three shots of straight vodka, a few beers, and a bruised vertebra = my night. a hangover fortified by my having forgotten to take my allergy pills and possibly a cold, with work barreling towards me by the hour = my morning. fuck you, saturday night. why aren't you ever as good as last year? when i was hooking up with 2 girls a night, having drink races into the morning hours, and making cute lesbians rethink their inebriated sexuality? now it's always me dancing like a little white man, drowning the music in alcoholic moose piss and hoping i don't slip into a dramatic episode. i don't do the club/dance scene, i just don't. i'm a talker, a charmer. not a dancer or a really physical guy in terms of meeting people. those rooms parties were my stomping grounds. no wonder alan hated me, i used to steal women from him at those apartment mixers.
i met a girl who lives in casc yesterday while i was moving my car. i bumped into her and we had the awkward OH MY BAD DIDN'T MEAN TO GROPE YOU WITH MY SHOULDER BONES moment...but she stopped for a second and looked into my eyes. it was very genuine. ah, what a thrill, the chase is. unfortunately, i've realized i shouldn't really be going for people living in this building. just another little tidbit for me to remember when i decide to go looking. it hadn't hit me until last night that what i did to lauren was tantamount to me breaking up with a girl and screwing her live-in sister. i.e. probably the scummiest thing i've ever done. and of course because she didn't get mad at me i won't learn. because to me i'm a good person and not in the wrong for living my life and pursuing a true connection with a woman. i'm not a tucker max, i'm no barney, i'm not an alpha, therefore i'm incapable of being an asshole. it's simply commutative.
but then again, i'm oversimplifying life by believing that. how can i think people are so flat? i don't even think that about most people! i'm just so attached to this idea of me weaving into this archetypical mold that doesn't even exist in reality, it's something i've made up to try and understand the absurd mixture of my quirks and flaws, in my inefficably desperate attempt to make my life easy like a television show. maybe i still believe in the magic window...i hope not. i really couldn't tell you at this point.
t-minus 3 weeks until i become another number on prozac's quarterly sales report. then again, once that happens, whoever i become won't care. it's sad that i'm no longer terrified of letting who i fundamentally am drift away into the inky abyss of my knotted brain. whatever. the only downside is that dust will now collect on my jams notebook.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
the classlessness
i'm really bored in chemistry right now. fucking a, i got a 5 on my ap chem test, and yet i still have to take a nonmajors class to fill out my credits. there are people in here marvelling at the idea of orbitals. i'm absolutely stumped at how i ended up here. it's almost a comment on my work ethic, or lack thereof. waning ever since middle school, and by junior year i was firmly locked into senioritis. sometimes i wonder if i ever shook that feeling of carefree lack of responsibility. that laziness that seems to define me in the eyes of my hard-working, get-it-done-yesterday friends. i used to take offense to their jabs, but no longer...it's just their way of venting. i deserve it; in a way, to them i'm one of those kids that coasts through life without regard for the concept of hard work, the enemy of the working man. ehh. i don't have a huge problem with that.
the professor just made an incest joke. my spine is in pieces.
i wonder who that kate c is. i really do think i'm in love with her, mind you. not because of the whole gay porn thing, but for a more normal reason. she writes so fluidly, her ideas flow exquisitely without weighing down what she's trying to say. i want to write like that, that oscar wilde "i'm short and sarcastic and dry love me" way of spewing your ideas onto paper in a quick and acidic fashion. people lap that up. i don't blame them. it's easily my favorite style of writing, that point-blank deadpan snarker type of pen.
awful chemistry pun. now he's wondering why nobody laughs at his jokes.
man, i'm still lovesick. saturday night proved that. aggressive drinking seems to bring out my dramatic pre-highschool self, and from what i have pieced together thus far, i apparently couldn't handle being at that party with all its different implications. between dancing around one of those girls long enough to realize i still have feelings for her despite saying i bounced back a few hours after being rejected, and remembering last year's phi tau escapades with kristen and abby (god, was THAT a shitshow,) i snapped and left in a huge, messy production. i need to stop dragging people down with me. like i said yesterday, i'm sort of a train wreck. it's slowly but surely happening. regardless, i'm still stuck on her, even though this could just be me idealizing her after she dumped me because i haven't been dumped in years and forgot how it felt. we would be awful together. remember kristen from high school? it would be that bad. no, not the pool hookups, us actually being together. THAT bad. but i don't care! because i don't think things through. that's exactly what i vowed to stop doing, racing in without thinking. then again, what else does a train wreck do but run headfirst into things?
the professor's talking about smoking crack in austria. class dismissed.
the professor just made an incest joke. my spine is in pieces.
i wonder who that kate c is. i really do think i'm in love with her, mind you. not because of the whole gay porn thing, but for a more normal reason. she writes so fluidly, her ideas flow exquisitely without weighing down what she's trying to say. i want to write like that, that oscar wilde "i'm short and sarcastic and dry love me" way of spewing your ideas onto paper in a quick and acidic fashion. people lap that up. i don't blame them. it's easily my favorite style of writing, that point-blank deadpan snarker type of pen.
awful chemistry pun. now he's wondering why nobody laughs at his jokes.
man, i'm still lovesick. saturday night proved that. aggressive drinking seems to bring out my dramatic pre-highschool self, and from what i have pieced together thus far, i apparently couldn't handle being at that party with all its different implications. between dancing around one of those girls long enough to realize i still have feelings for her despite saying i bounced back a few hours after being rejected, and remembering last year's phi tau escapades with kristen and abby (god, was THAT a shitshow,) i snapped and left in a huge, messy production. i need to stop dragging people down with me. like i said yesterday, i'm sort of a train wreck. it's slowly but surely happening. regardless, i'm still stuck on her, even though this could just be me idealizing her after she dumped me because i haven't been dumped in years and forgot how it felt. we would be awful together. remember kristen from high school? it would be that bad. no, not the pool hookups, us actually being together. THAT bad. but i don't care! because i don't think things through. that's exactly what i vowed to stop doing, racing in without thinking. then again, what else does a train wreck do but run headfirst into things?
the professor's talking about smoking crack in austria. class dismissed.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
the drive-by
"And I've never been so alone, And I've never been so alive..."
the last words of third eye blind's motorcycle drive-by are rattling around my skull. such a gorgeous song, easily one of the best of the nineties. that feeling of being at the absolute bottom, knowing you've hit an extreme, it affirms that you're truly living your life to the fullest. that's how i try and live when it comes to romance. feeling on top of the world, afraid of the future but pushing through it anyway to be with that one person, lying alone at the bottom in the dark times, that's true emotion straight from the rawest vein of lifeblood.
but apparently this has become a bad thing, for myself and for the people who care about me. racing from girl to girl, trying to catch that feeling again and never let it go. it's like she (we all know who she is) got me hooked on a high i shouldn't have felt at a shallow 16 years old. now that it's in my blood, i can't ignore the craving. you remember that little hairy guy from the old honeycomb cereal commercials? me before i cut my hair. totally.
i look back on the past three weeks and see myself falling to pieces. not the way i used to "fall to pieces" when i was younger and just lose touch with a part of myself (el oh el suicidal tendencies, all that nonsense was part me looking for attention and part me having absolutely no regard for the little man i call lucio.) now i'm actually starting to change... i've become the asshole i see in the mirror, oblivious to others' feelings that i used to be so good at fixing. no concept of self-worth, waning self-esteem, and falsified mountains of confidence, all mixing together to make me finally become what i see as a bad person. it's as if i've been tainted by something. i'm hurting others that try and get in the way of my age-old self-destructive bender now, too. i've always been on this path, but because everyone's trying to stop me, i see them as threats and kick it into overdrive. it's like i'm against the world as a whole, as a living entity, proving myself worthy to be on it by vying to be absolutely normal. friends that all remember me when i'm not around, women that clamber for my affections, a nice knit family man... that's how i used to see myself. now, i guess i've finally hit a point where i need to get to know the man i'm becoming and steer him in the right direction, instead of trying to "complete" him with somebody else. it's a good thing i got rejected so soon, in hindsight. well, the fact that this whole entire debacle happened in the course of a week instead of dragging it out. knowing what little bits i still do know about myself, it would have taken me far too long to realize any of this and if it hadn't have transpired the way it has, i never would've listened to some of the advice i got. the really important stuff that forced me to look at myself from the outside and stop this ridiculous competition i have with nobody in particular.
i've been in eight relationships by this point in my life. i used to think of this as bragging rights, that i was a ladykiller and on par with my friends and i would never be alone because of it. now i just see it as disgusting and sad that i wasted so much of my life refusing to stop and learn about myself, instead trying my hardest to learn about other people long enough to screw them. i fucking bounced back four hours after i got dumped once. that's got to be some deep-rooted psychological bullshit right there. i did think for a good bit of time last night that i was codependent, i mean it could always be true in ways, i guess. but i still think it all stems from my lack of ability to even conceptualize the idea that somebody could care about me. the price of being aloof? or the result of being depressed for years and letting it whittle away at my self-image? that's the sixty-four dollar question, ladies and gents.
"Tell me, tell me you'll be alright when you start to fade."
the last words of third eye blind's motorcycle drive-by are rattling around my skull. such a gorgeous song, easily one of the best of the nineties. that feeling of being at the absolute bottom, knowing you've hit an extreme, it affirms that you're truly living your life to the fullest. that's how i try and live when it comes to romance. feeling on top of the world, afraid of the future but pushing through it anyway to be with that one person, lying alone at the bottom in the dark times, that's true emotion straight from the rawest vein of lifeblood.
but apparently this has become a bad thing, for myself and for the people who care about me. racing from girl to girl, trying to catch that feeling again and never let it go. it's like she (we all know who she is) got me hooked on a high i shouldn't have felt at a shallow 16 years old. now that it's in my blood, i can't ignore the craving. you remember that little hairy guy from the old honeycomb cereal commercials? me before i cut my hair. totally.
i look back on the past three weeks and see myself falling to pieces. not the way i used to "fall to pieces" when i was younger and just lose touch with a part of myself (el oh el suicidal tendencies, all that nonsense was part me looking for attention and part me having absolutely no regard for the little man i call lucio.) now i'm actually starting to change... i've become the asshole i see in the mirror, oblivious to others' feelings that i used to be so good at fixing. no concept of self-worth, waning self-esteem, and falsified mountains of confidence, all mixing together to make me finally become what i see as a bad person. it's as if i've been tainted by something. i'm hurting others that try and get in the way of my age-old self-destructive bender now, too. i've always been on this path, but because everyone's trying to stop me, i see them as threats and kick it into overdrive. it's like i'm against the world as a whole, as a living entity, proving myself worthy to be on it by vying to be absolutely normal. friends that all remember me when i'm not around, women that clamber for my affections, a nice knit family man... that's how i used to see myself. now, i guess i've finally hit a point where i need to get to know the man i'm becoming and steer him in the right direction, instead of trying to "complete" him with somebody else. it's a good thing i got rejected so soon, in hindsight. well, the fact that this whole entire debacle happened in the course of a week instead of dragging it out. knowing what little bits i still do know about myself, it would have taken me far too long to realize any of this and if it hadn't have transpired the way it has, i never would've listened to some of the advice i got. the really important stuff that forced me to look at myself from the outside and stop this ridiculous competition i have with nobody in particular.
i've been in eight relationships by this point in my life. i used to think of this as bragging rights, that i was a ladykiller and on par with my friends and i would never be alone because of it. now i just see it as disgusting and sad that i wasted so much of my life refusing to stop and learn about myself, instead trying my hardest to learn about other people long enough to screw them. i fucking bounced back four hours after i got dumped once. that's got to be some deep-rooted psychological bullshit right there. i did think for a good bit of time last night that i was codependent, i mean it could always be true in ways, i guess. but i still think it all stems from my lack of ability to even conceptualize the idea that somebody could care about me. the price of being aloof? or the result of being depressed for years and letting it whittle away at my self-image? that's the sixty-four dollar question, ladies and gents.
"Tell me, tell me you'll be alright when you start to fade."
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