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January 17, 2002January 17th, 2002Darkness, repetitive humming, soft platform underneath me, I was awake in my own bed. The nightmare was over but my heart was still racing and my breath was still short, it was not too far off that my body was responding to the stimulus – never mind the pictures left in my mind. I was at college amongst all my good friends, word had gotten back to me that my recent ex had gone to see the woman for whom he left me. I had snapped, in midst of a nervous breakdown all my friends were there to watch over me. They had sent word off to the asshole of what happened. He made an appearance, only to drive me further into a state of rage and hopelessness that I kept trying to commit suicide. The storyline had change and new scenes and plots appeared, an 8 month pregnant woman and her boyfriend along with her children stole my van as a means to get away from his breaking out of jail. I kept running and searching for my car but to no use. Then I sought refuge in a house, which in the dream was familiar, but in reality was some concoction of my creative mind. The only thing that brought me peace and tranquility was my ex-boyfriend/roommate/love interest. As he has done so in real life, trying to comfort me in my current time of anger and sorrow. Last night I actually did receive word that the asshole had in fact gone to see the woman he met at the nye party and her boyfriend is good friends with my roommate. It sorrows me to know that I could be forgotten so quickly, it pains me to feel that in the same day of this heart shattering (although not foreseen) news I had e-mailed the asshole wondering what he was doing and to check on his current status as a living person. Last night I was angry and bitter, my feelings this morning have not changed. There are many questions to which I was seeking answers, but I guess I no longer have to go far to seek. They’re basically answered in a simple action. It hurts nonetheless. It hurts immensely. I never did anything wrong, I was always sympathetic, understanding, and loving. And patient, can’t forget that one, it was the main theme of the relationship. This is the second time that I had an ex at a party who hooked up with someone else there/introduced/knew. Somehow during a discussion with the asshole he remarked that I should have expected what happened. That I had pushed him away for too long that he finally gave up on me when I decided that we should be friends. I had not wanted to be friends with him, I loved him, and there’s apart of me that still does (or else this wouldn’t hurt as torturous as it does). To think that in the e-mail I was going to send him, I was going to ask if we could perhaps have a second/third chance. I gave him a chance after he stabbed my heart saying he only wanted to be friends, but the damage had been done and the relationship suffered. I will give you a piece of advice, free, if you don’t know what you want out of a relationship, for fuck’s sake, keep your mouth shut until you do. You’ll do less damage that way. I’m off to shower, hopefully easing my mind and heart a little before I wander off to work. Before I go, I just have one wish, that the fucking asshole better learn in life you can’t burn your fucking bridges and expect to not incur enemies. I at least have friends, I at least never did a fucking thing wrong, I at least am not the asshole. And although I really want to eviscerate some pigs, I’d rather take the high road and eat peanut butter and jelly.
January 16, 2002January 16th, 2002Today one of my friends was talking to me about his upcoming marriage ceremony. Him and his soon to be wife have set the date, booked the hall and the church. I know understand why my sister freaks out every time that she hears one of her friends is getting married. I often kid myself saying that I will never marry or settle down with a person. The truth is, I often feel insecure about the whole topic of marriage and of relationships. When I was younger, people would sardonically talk to me about my single status. Eventually it was ingrained that I was always to remain alone, single, and to never to know the touch of a man. The all girl catholic schooling didn’t help that fact much either. One thing I’ve noticed about the male population is that they are idiots when of teenage years. Some become less idiotic as they age; some remain steadfast in that idiot status. Maturity is key to relationships, to longevity, to life. If a person is merely concerned with the superficial appearance of their significant other, they damn well better take out an insurance policy on her looks. Time does harsh things to a woman’s body, especially if childbirth is involved. I have seen many relationships come and go, be it relatives, friends, or even my own. One thing is certain though, one philosophy stands strong in my mind: Don’t be surprised when divorce rears its head when you base your relationship merely upon physical characteristics. Trophy wives and trophy husbands are not going to survive, unless you have more of a profound in-depth relationship. Looks come and go, but what remains true is pure love. Last night I watched a biography about the life of Mark Twain. Now, I’m not really interested in literary figures, luckily my roommates are, but I learned something about him that I never would have known if it weren’t for the show and that is Twain’s love for his wife. Twain had a deep inexplicable devotion to his wife. He was crushed when she passed. In the program they had mentioned that when she was ill he would go outside the window to her room and attach notes to the birds to a tree telling them not to sing too loudly in fears of disturbing his wife’s much needed rest. He would write her notes ant attach them to the door of her room with statements of adoration and love. I was moved. And as I sit here thinking of Twain, of my friends, I cannot help but think that I might actually wander this rock alone. People talk about karmic retribution, that for all the bad shit that you’ve done, bad shit will happen to you. The same goes for relationships, for all the bad shit that you put a person through, it will return to you. If you were a Pagan, it would return back to you thrice. I hope all you assholes enjoy the pain that will soon be inflicted upon your soul.
January 07, 2002January 7th, 2002One of the things that really annoys me during winter snow storms is all the media hype. I live in the northeast of the country, and a person who resides in that area should be well prepared for what's going to happen, especially given at least a day's notice. The problem lies in the mass hysteria of such storms. I see the main news as the weather: what's expected and how people are preparing for it. Why for fuck's sake, must I watch 10 minutes of typical crap when I really want to find out what's going on in the world first? The markets are all packed with white trash people stocking up on milk, bread, eggs, various other groceries (including condoms to pass the time away somehow). I mean, it's going to snow during the night and by the time you fucks wake up in the morning, the roads will be plowed (depending of course on the city, town, village you reside in), and the kiddies will be all ready to go out and make a couple bucks shoveling poor Mrs. Johnson's walk. Why oh why are you expecting it to snow like you won't be able to escape your house and go to work or to the store? To quote my friend: "the same people who stock up are the same people who bitch about the snow the entire time they're in line"... this coming from a person who used to work in a grocery store when he was a younger age.
January 05, 2002January 5th, 2002Hate and Love are synonymous, both lying on the same plane of emotion. The only difference is: with hate you want to fuck their brains out; with love, you want to make passionate love to your significant other. So being a hateful person, does that mean I want to go around and fuck the brains out of everyone? It certainly would help getting over some of life's rotten lemons. I had thought that several nights sleep, a couple of new year's resolutions, and time would fade the not too distant memories of pain. Apparently I was wrong. I'm an angry, bitter, and hateful person... and it seems that I am happier that way. And as it began, it ended. A flame sparked from emotions so powerful, was extinguished with the same intensity. I am here left alone, left with broken promises, left with betrayal so deep that I couldn't fathom that this was ever going to happen to me again. I thought that I had learned my lesson from the asshole, never to have dated someone who's sexual experience was on the same level as a post. I'm starting to believe in fuck-buddies. They never expect you to call them long distance, never expect you to buy them groceries or fill up their car with gas, or even drive long distances so you can get a weary I'm not ready for this excuse. They're simple relationships, with the basis on one simple thought, animalistic fucking. Studies have found (shocking) that sex is good for the body. Holy Shit, you don't say?!?!! I believe that everyone should have sex, gays, heterosexuals, animals, transvestites, gods, goddesses, virgins, hole punchers, you name it, they should be having coital relations. Maybe, just maybe, if the world participating in one huge giant gang bang we wouldn't have the problems that we have today. I mean, how can you be so wrapped up in current events, in who hates whom, who's fighting whom, when you just shot a big load into some attractive hole and your muscles have finally relaxed? So I hate him, he has replaced the asshole in my life's view. To blatantly mac on some fucking girl in the presence of me? Now that was completely out of line. Pig? Yes. Immature? Yes! Sexual deviant? Yes! and complete hopeless geek? yes, Yes, YES!!! Sometimes all the proper ettiquete in the world would not help out a person who is so completely clueless in advanced social crowds that if there were a college offering a class on the subject, he would fail, and fail miserably. Case scenario: Guy is vacationing at Girl’s place for an indeterminate amount of time. Somewhere along the timeline, they break up, Guy’s not ready, Girl’s feeling odd, but whatever, they’ll try and work on the problem. A party occurs. Boyfriend shows up with Girlfriend. Mass drinking ensues; Girlfriend starts to ignore Boyfriend and starts blatantly flirting with Guy. Girl seeing the snowball that just starting rolling down the mountain begins to drink, and drink, and drink some more. Boyfriend is oblivious. Suddenly Guy asks Girlfriend for info, Girlfriend reciprocates. Girl becomes ill. At this point in the story, Guests and one of the hosts go out to a bar. Left at the party are Roommate, Girl, Guy, Boyfriend, and Girlfriend. Girl becomes violently ill, and Guy (who’s there as Girl’s guest) leave with Girlfriend to join other Guests. Hours later Guests and host returns, Guy and Girlfriend are out, Girl is sick on the couch. They return all laughing and shit and Girl retires to a bedroom closest to the bathroom. Later on in the evening Girlfriend becomes ill, and who is there to help her out? You guessed it Guy is! So forgetting all about his friend, his romantic interest, his host, he decides to help out some cheap slut who’s showing some interest in him and forgetting all morals or rules of social ettiquete in a party setting. Man, why must nice girls always get themselves mixed up with social retards?
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