July 31, 2012

she will have to cry

there isn't too much serious discussion that ever goes on here. i think the one major post was about the time I talked about leaving school. ...it was a shit of a way to let people know about my departure, my fleeing, my calling it fucking quits, my dissatisfaction with everything happening to me; it was the only way i could break it to the masses (i couldn't bring myself to tell people straight up...rumors started that i had been eaten by the fat, monster-of-a-girl who lived on my dorm floor).

ok, back to the times that matter: so here we are, five years later, and my life is a touch more exciting and not as horrible. there have been good things. very good things that have made me smile nonstop, the real ones that you don't flash when you feel obligated to look like a sane citizen, and take pleasure in the notion that i'm alive right now. i didn't think it could happen to me, i don't even understand why i let something like two years ago fuck me over for such a thing, but there i was, struck with unnecessary emotions over....wait for it..a boy. is it so stupid that i thought one sweet-and-soft-talking, lying, awkward-handshaking artist from a few years ago was able damage me forever? i was quite sure he did so i avoided any such relations with people who i thought might look attractive and have penises. it was back to being quiet and guarded and lonely (this is ok, i'm a lonely person after all); existence was difficult in a solitary mental state. i came to miss the physical contact, the laughing at stupid things, the overall company of a boy (maybe even a homely one as long as we liked the same things..more on this later). the quest was arduous and unfruitful. how could anyone ever compare to a motherfucking artist who wore glasses and indulged in devious deeds that i could no longer live without...HOW?

eventually, my luck turned. patience is a virtue i never do without and i was well rewarded for a time. it's not often i will receive courting or revelations of admiration with delight. the majority of these advances are met with a coy smile declining such intentions. i mean, it's rare that this will happen to me. i can't even begin to imagine why anyone would find me remotely attractive: i'm generally short, rectangularly shaped, annoyingly silent, indecisive, unintentionally judgmental,wide-faced...the list goes on, but i don't want to demoralize myself any further...So it's always an uplifting sensation to have a reciprocation of liking from someone who doesn't turn out to be stalker or creepy 40-year-old geek who lives with his mom.

this brings me to the much eluded topic of...urgh...wuv. i can't stand thinking, talking, wondering...having anything to do with it. Love is such a powerful, definite word; the connotations apparent in it are so deep, it can't be flung around recklessly to express a vague liking of something--this is a feeling poets have been trying to encompass for ages, what artists have only dreamed of depicting, something young girls hope to fall into by the time they reach puberty.
in the course of relationships i've survived, the greatest adversary i've come to face is trust. At first it's easy to believe someone likes you, but as time progresses you pick out little characteristics that induce suspicion; by the end of dates or sex or walks in the park or sex or awkward car rides one can't help but wonder if he really cares...if he's already plotting a way to ensnare his next victim (consensually or not), if he thinks about you whilst on the loo because you certainly do. i mean, really, how can you tell if likes, let alone Loves, you?



of course there's the betty everett method to determine such a discrepancy. to be honest, it's never quite worked for me...and i'm still very much waiting for that one magical kiss where i wrap my arms around his neck, lift up left foot (and only the left), and there's a spectacle of fireworks going off around us (or it at least feels like it to me) and a i can see the whole thing enfolding as if a camera is encircling us to catch every angle of bliss.this has never happened.
i think this fantasy has to come to an end.

back to the point, if there is a point, if you've kept up with what i've put on here thus far and paid attention: my trust issues. Of course I've been lied to, damaged by selfish boys who want it all, and the tolerance for anyone who fucks me over wanes...at times i become consumed by paranoia. this is made all the worse as every boy/man/life-changing, magical entity has abandoned me, leaving without a trace or explanation, resulting in brooding, sobbing, and an overall mood of desolation on my part. there have been instances where i recall a fond or ridiculous memory and my eyes will well up (so much for being an emotionless mass of woman). all that flashes in my mind by then are thoughts of my insignificance and why i exist in world that would do fine, if not better, without me.
now i can't even remember what i was supposed to discuss, where i was going beyond a post regarding a special little guy who is leaving me for a better life...all i can say, since he's long gone and no longer thinking about a stupid, melodramatic girl, is i miss you. yes, i'm guilty of caring too much and possibly wishing of fulfilling my mad notion of becoming a single mother (it is a desire i often dream of....don't judge).

remnants good for a lazy saturday

so. this is mostly a dedication, an explanation (pending it is read in all its entirety by my special little guy), a retching of words to let you and whoever winds up here know that you're nothing short of amazing, that you fucking saved me, that i'm suffering without you...that maybe i lost the best gotdang person i've met in a while and it will take me eons to find the next one.
despite these revelations and admirations about this person, there is lingering doubt in my mind that he will be good; i only suspect your engagement in purely sexual escapades or narcotic affairs. i am driven to madness. as much as i'd like to ignore these thoughts, they always creep in when least expected. just because fucking feels good and i'm not there doesn't diminish the fact that i know you're being a jerk. please don't go around fucking trash. i worry and i endure the sensations of stupidity exerting too much concern over your activities. at least know i do.
in truth, i have never thought of you as a moral person; the decisions you make, the actions you do are based on your own intentions: let them die. there are things i've wanted to say in your presence, but why take me seriously...i hope you care, i assume you do since the last time i saw you..
on the issue of my loyalty i only have to say this on my behalf:
(1) i don't lie to people i don't know very well
(2) why would i do something stupid?
ANYWAY! this has been dragging on forever and it's out in the public free to be ridiculed and snuffed at by everybody. so that's it. i'm going to write miserable novels in the corner whilst sobbing...and don't fucking tell me to man up or have some balls because it's not physically possible for me to be or do those things.

curse these feminine qualities.

2 comments:

Patrick Romo said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Patrick Romo said...

And the rude little boy tossed the happy doll he played with during those gay summer days into the hands of a demon. The sun and moon looked away this time in shame.