listening to: "Down Again" by Chimaira
mood: Sad

So, talking with a friend last night I had a realization (and maybe more than the one), that saddens me greatly. This talk made me realize that I do still love someone that I would rather not anymore. I no longer care about or like this person at all, but I agree with my friend that it seemed like I put too much emotion into the person for it to just fade away.

I also agree that in order to completely move on, since the closure I needed didn't happen... I need to accept the fact that I do still have love for this person in my heart. I've tried purging it, tried convincing myself that since I no longer care about, like, or want anything to do with this person... that I don't love her anymore either. That's wrong I suppose.

I think now that I believe the true greatest sin is to deny who and what you are. Iif that is true, then I've sinned, and I suppose that for now I will continue to do so. I still can't bring myself to admit it, even though I do realize it's true. The love is not as strong as it once was, but I can admit that at times... my heart still cries out for her... hell, it flat out sobs and wails.

... fuck it, I'm done

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This is the first writing I've done in quite a while. The urge just suddenly hit me to start again. This is all coming out with just a vague idea, the rest is off the top of my head.

(Reposting this here too.)
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Nighttime. Your friend, and your nightmare. Lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Two thirty seven, you haven't rested at all. The thoughts inside your head raging ever so, like the fiercest war. No matter how hard you try to escape, you're still haunted by what happened. Mindless entertainment, alcohol, any and all of it can't make you forget.

You curse yourself silently as the sick feeling enters your stomach again. You sit up and wipe the light sweat from your brow. Shaking your head you toss the covers aside, swing your legs over the side of the bed, and place your feet on the floor. A glance back over your shoulder at the bed, reminds you that you're alone again. Your eyes start to well up but you fight it back, you can't let yourself grieve anymore.

You reach out and take the cigarettes from the sidetable, removing one, you place it between your lips. The lighter comes next, a flick and the end of the cig is glowing. After a long draw, you exhale and the cloud of smoke escapes and dissipates.

A moment or two later and you rise from the bed. Slowly you make your way out of the bedroom. Used to the dark now, you amble through and pause in the kitchen. You glance down upon the table there, eyes making out the outline of a whiskey bottle. Before you know it your hand is upon it, hating yourself as you down a drink. It hits your stomach like a gunshot. You feel like angrily tossing the bottle against the wall, but don't have the heart to do so... so you sit it back down and wander towards the back door.

Placing your hand upon it you turn the knob and swing it inwards. As you step outside, not having drawn upon the cigarette in a while, the ashes finally fall from it on the ground as you step outside. Thunder rolls closeby, a storm is coming in. You sigh as an old song runs through your mind... your song with, that person.

The cigarette falls from your lips as you drop your head into your hands. Again your eyes well up, but this time you don't fight it. The tears come slowly at first, and as you start to sob the thunder booms loudly and the rain starts... almost as if somehow existence feels your pain... and the sky weeps... cries... alongside you.

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Ever had a good buzz going, and then have it totally killed at seemingly the snap of a finger? Hell if you drink any, then of course you have. Sucks, don't it? You're feelin' good, and feelin' mellow (or horny, gigly, or whatever) and then *pew pew pew* you're shot down outta the sky like you're the Red Baron and Snoopy is on your tail. Y'ain't flyin' high like Ozzy after that no more, nu-uh, slitherin' like Velvet Revolver.

Yeah, that tends to happen to me for some reason, any time I ever decide to drink any. Almost makes me wanna not bother. ... Fuckin' hell in a handbasket. Not to mention I'd had thoughts about someone I'd rather have not had any thoughts about, due to a dream I'd had. So in hindsight I guess it wasn't hard to kill it on me. As soon as El Depresso dropkicked my brain again, *smack* it was over, done deed, one two three... I'd lost again.

But in the end, I've rediscovered a love of Jack & Coke. Granted I still won't drink regularly. but I'd forgotten how good it can be. Anywho, I leave you with this...

"When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fucking special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
When I'm not around
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here

She's running out the door
She's running out, she run, run, run, run, run

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here"

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listening to: Disturbed's "Believe" album.
mood: Uhhh, humorously confused. Does that make sense?

Okay, there's one person here who sorta knows some of this story already, but for clarification's sake I'll naturally share it with everyone.

So several months ago while on summer guard duty in Texas, my then girlfriend cheats on me with some dude she supposedly had only just met, from Chicago. Comes back home and denies it, though it's as obvious as the nose on your face. We get into it over things and I tell her I can't deal with someone who's gonna do shit like that to me. So I left.

Not days later she has the fucker down there with her, and is still telling me she cares about me. Yeah, it sure made it seem like it to me, but anyways... that little tad of drama went on for a while, and at this point I did still have some feelings left for her. So after she screwed around on the guy days after being "official" with him he disappeared for a while. She naturally looked to my shoulder to cry on. Whatever, being the type of guy I am and with feelings still, I stupidly listened. She let me think that maybe we could work things out, which I was ignorant to even go with, but hey... love does that t'ya I suppose. Then just as I felt better, the Chicago dude shows back up and I just turn and walk off again. After he returns, since I sadly work at the same place as the cheating whore... she parades him around in there several times a night, pretty much rubbing my face in it.

Then only after two months of knowing the fuck, she has the nerve to tell me she's getting married to him. Stupidity shown again. But anyway, at this point I tell her I don't want anything from her anymore, nor do I ever want to speak to her again. She agreed. So I began my ignoring of the dumb slut. Naturally though this wasn't the end after all...

So I'd told close friends and such that I just knew that since my birthday was soon (it was the 9th this month), that she would try to at least give me a birthday card. No one believed that she'd have that much nerve, but then again none of them knows her like I do either.

Anywho I took the 8th and 9th off 'cause of the birthday, and sure enough... on the night of the 9th I guess she went and bought a card and talked the assistant manager there that night into getting people to sign it. Not many who knew what was going on did, for the record. Having bought it though, she never had the guts to sign it herself. Then last night when I went in, a friend of mine came up to me and said that she had something for me, handed to her from "you know who." I rolled my eyes, took it and looked briefly, then ripped it up and put it on the ex's lunchbox. Naturally, I thought this would finally give her the idea...

I suppose when she discovered it later on, she took it out to the car and put it under my damn windshield wiper blade. Phew... I mean with that kinda stuff, my flat-out ignoring her existence, and even the telling her I wanted no contact in any form from her... I would think she would've caught on, or hoped so anyway. I do believe though, that she's too dull or stubborn to catch on, or give up one.

Leave it to me to pick the bonafide crazy-asses... I got the feeling it's gonna take quite a bit of time to shake this psycho from my life for good.

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listening to: Stone Temple Pilots
mood: blah

(Yay, first entry woo.)

Yep, I realize that title makes no sense whatsoever. Deal with it.

So like, I'd say that I just came to the realization that I overanalyze/overthink virtually everything... but that'd be a lie, as I've known it for quite some time. Now see, the thing is, I suppose at times this could be useful... though I've yet to discover these times. Mostly all it does is give me more of a headache and more annoyance and unnecessary stress. It's kinda like an STD for my brain. I wonder if I smacked myself over the head with a rubber mallet, if pus would shoot out my ears.

It's especially annoying when this kicks in on me when all signs point to a situation being alright. The cogs and wheels in my head start turnin' slowly, but quickly work their way into overdrive, blowing either minor things or things that aren't even there way out of proportion. Makes me all anxious, and just makes me feel bad in general.

Doesn't discriminate situations either, I tend to do this with nigh everything. You name the situation (within seriousness), and I've most likely overthought it if I've encountered it. I've done it badly enough at times that it's actually made me sick, which is about as fun as being kicked in the groin. Repeatedly.

On a side note... I also hate it when nervousness and anxiety causes me to not be myself, no matter how hard I try. Natch, I guess no one likes this I suppose, but it seems very prevalent in me. Makes it hard for me to share who I am with a potential partner. Admittedly not being great at the whole dating thing doesn't help this matter either...

Without going too deep into detail as to what triggered these thoughts... I will say that it stems from a date this past Thursday night that didn't go as smooth as I was hoping. The female involved in this situation, I've discussed this with already, and I've been assured everything's alright. But if for some crazy reason you'd wanna know more, I may share.

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