Sunday, December 17, 2006

Some people just have too much free time

Working at a place where it's so noisy that there isn't much point in trying to talk to any one has it's advantages. I've had most of the week to spend inside my head and earplugs, thinking about all this shit. It's been a weird week. Lots of mixed feelings, mostly regrets over "what-if" situations. I've had time to catch up with various girls who've been important to me over the years in a variety of ways, lately. It's been a very retrospective, introspective, and many other sorts of "-spective" week, so this is what's been going on in my head:

Number one by merit of whichever one came to my head first. Yet another one of those girls that I never knew in school, but became friends with once it became extremely inconvenient to actually see each other. In the event that you actually read this, I'm sure you know who you are. We were just so fucked right from the beginning, it never had a chance. Different friends, different interests, different everything. Add the fact that, well, I'm sure you remember wht happened.

She's changed a helluva lot since the days when I had a school kid crush on her. The long hair I inevitably fell for is gone, in favour of a "cuter" do. Cute my ass. I mean, sure she's all of 5 ft tall but man... I just like long hair.

Anyway. Any hint of romanticism is very far gone for me, and I doubt it ever existed for her. We get along famously though, when there's the time to talk, which often there isn't.

I am that girl who was lucky enough to get a second chance at getting to know you and has never been happier
I am that girl who would call you almost everyday when she was chronically depressed
I am that girl you would call everyday just to make her smile
I am that girl that you brought to a jamming session who made a great first impression to your jamming buddies by walking straight into a sliding door, collapsing it
I am that girl who frequently insults you, but you know I love you, you donkey you
I am that girl whose sane side you love but whose insane side makes you want to strangle her
I am that girl who hopes we'll always be this close, even in our golden years, and perhaps have my grandchildren marry your grandchildren


She wrote this, some time ago. I don't know if she even remembers it, but I do. It pretty much sums us up, and I'm happy with that. Both our lives are diverging increasingly though, they've always been pretty mutually exclusive but I guess it gets worse as you grow up. I guess I really do hope that we'll always be this close. It's always good to have someone you can talk to, about absolutely anything.

Hey, you won't see this but I love you for that.

Okay, next. One of the very few girls I actually had a serious relationship with during the school years. We were best friends, almost from the get-go. Although I'm sure, if she were to be perfectly honest, I probably came off as irritating as fuck those first few moments in time.

But anyway. Best friends. The kind that don't even need to talk at all all year while I'm away (and we don't), but you just pick it up from where you left off, as if you never left off. Breakfast the other morning with her, it was great. We still get along like giddy little school kids stuck in a play pen together, lots of teasing, poking, giggling... but I can't hide from myself the fact that she and I are both a lot different from how we used to be. She has a serious boyfriend, been awhile now, and seeing her again I can't help but think about how it would have been if we'd lasted. In many ways I guess we could have been perfect for each other, she was one of the very few girls, I think, who can see all the levels there are to me, not just a few, or worse yet none at all.

I don't think that the whole soul mate thing really exists. In my head, there are probably a buttload of possible matches, and you get in on them depending on stupid shit like the right time, right place. Sometimes, it's just the wrong time or place. I guess for us, it was right at the time, but I didn't catch on fast enough, and by the time I had, soon she wanted to be at another place. But back to my theory, my current girl understands me as much as anyone ever has, I think even more, so that puts paid to that "one soul mate" bullshit. Things are good. I think the doubts I was having are far away in my mind at the moment, and for this period of time, I am happy with the world in my head.

Hey you. We were great together, even for that short moment of time. We were.

Okay, how bout another one??

The big ONE, the one who fucked me emotionally (but never physically, I regret to mention) for years, the one that I would have given my soul for, but who could never even find a tiny, little, god forsaken corner for me in her heart, god bless it. I know the story, and it is fucked. And it's too long to bother with here. It took years for me to get over it, and even now once in awhile I think back to those tortured, fucked up days, and think - would I have done it any different? I'd like to say I would have, but an idiot in love is after all fucking stupid, and that's how I acted. We now (and probably forever after) conveniently ignore the issue of her boyfriend, whom I hate, for no good reason, other than that he was probably a better man than I was. I dunno. It's as good a reason to hate anyone, especially if you're me.

I like to think that I've gotten over it, but some things you just don't want to dig up, just for kicks. I buried that hatchet deep, deep, deep down a long time ago, and I don't want it back to haunt me. I allow myself moments like this, to think and to remember, the good times and the bad - but I exercise the fucking strictest control possible, not to let things creep up again. Those were some bad years for me. To this day, I can't see why it couldn't work. We were great together, hell I still think her boyfriend is almost me anyways, except maybe a bit more polite, a bit more civilised, a bit more willing to indulge in girly shit to get her attention, but anyway. We could have been great. I spent years dreaming about it, actually. I waited. Oh how I waited.

But it was all shit.

Oh well, I guess I have to be glad that after all the shit that happened, that we are even friends again. I remember, that was the night I got falling down drunk for the only time in my life. It helped to kill the pain. That was the time that we had that huge argument, and didn't fucking speak for months - I too angry, she too afraid of that same anger. That was the time that I finally realised that, whether I liked it or not, whether she liked me or not, she was a huge part of my life, and I just couldn't live without her. In some shape or form.

So we are friends. Some day I will shake her guy's hand, and I will hopefully be man enough to admit that somethings just aren't meant to be, and they probably are. I hope this happens before they get married or anything like that, it would be a pretty fucking awkward wedding if you have to ignore the groom. One day I will find the courage to admit that we have more in common than I care to admit to myself even on the darkest days, and that we could probably be friends, even good ones, even great ones. But I am stubborn, and shit like this is hard for someone with too much pride.

Hey babe, if you read this, you know you have my blessing. And I'll always love you, somehow or some way. And I know you do too, after a fashion.

Just the wrong fashion, though. What does it matter any more, anyway?

Okay... it's probably time to end this pointless diatribe. We'll talk more about my sad emotionally fucked history another time. Gotta sleep soon, another work day tomorrow, new people, same job, same boredom but less freedom.

Gotta love it.

No, I don't.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Plan of action.

Okay...

Looks like this is it. The different time zone thing, I have decided, is completely legit and shall be put into action soon.

I'll have some fun while I'm here, why not? Nothing too serious, there are virtually no bridges of communication from A to B, it's all but foolproof. I hope I'm not a fool, doh. Plus this should cure me of my problems when I get back to her, right? After a bit of play, I'll be all good to lock that ball and chain back on me ankle...

I hope so.

Plan of attack is on! Well... I'ma do something anyway. I'm not about to jump right in, what do you think this is, a real relationship? I'll go slow, and on the way continuously try to convince myself to do the right thing instead. Who knows which side will win? Let's see who's Schwartz is bigger now...

Yes, I think this is the way to go.

My head is a pretty fucked up thing...

Well we just had another fight. Over msn no less. How that can happen is beyond me.

At the moment I'm just really tired of this. Commitment. The future looms, and fuck it is pretty fucking scary. Especially for a guy.

I don't wanna be in for the long haul! Who does?

But on the other hand... It's probably the best relationship I've ever had (make that definitely the best, you know you've had some bullshit relationships...), and I don't want to toss it aside and regret it in 20 years time when I am sitting alone with my 40 cats.

Come on, man - you know it, and I know it. This is possibly the best thing that's ever happened to you.

Well couldn't it have happened a bit later?? It's like... so many fucking years of bumbling, fumbling, messing up with girls just cos I hadn't the slightest fucking clue what goes on in their heads... And no one bothered telling me that wearing your heart on ur fucking sleeve or maybe right on the front of your forehead spells in big red glowing letters "LOSER"... It took me years to learn how to play the game, and now you're telling me I'm off the field? What the fuck!

This is really my main problem. My relationship is actually fucking great - everyone has their little fights (or big ones) from time to time, but other than that, she really does love me and care about me heaps. To the extent that, I don't want to break up with her also for the reason that I think it would completely destroy her. No, that's not my huge ego speaking, but what I think is really close to the truth. And I would not want to fucking do that to her ever in a million years, fear of commitment or not. That's just not cool.

But back to the salient point of the matter... I kinda feel short-changed by the whole process - I threw myself at so many girls for so many years to no avail cos I was young, stupid, and had no idea how the fuck to go about it. No game plan, no street smarts. Just innocent puppy love/stupidity. Do not pass go, do not collect numerous girlfriends. Okay, one or two were stupid enough to fall for the puppy eyes "dumbass who does everything for you" act, but I shan't sully it - deep inside I still love each and everyone of them, no matter how thoroughly moved on we are.

What the fuck am I talking about again? Right. The boy with no clue.

Well eventually, I got a clue! In fact, I got a lot of clues. Hell, time to partaaaa - Wait. One morning I woke up and I had a girlfriend. A really really serious one. What the fuck?! This is serious shit, man. I don't like to admit it, but I could see a future of sorts.

That's the part that scares the living bejesus out of me. What?? Do not pass go, do not collect $200 is bad enough, but GO TO JAIL?!?! Where's my damn get out of jail free card??

Fuck fuck fuck. I still wanna plaaaaay! I mean it's like... jeez, for years I've been crawling around women, now I've finally learnt to walk, run, maybe dance a little (although I think that dancing is terribly homosexual, but anyway) - and you. Just. Had. To. Stick my goddamn legs in quick-dry cement?

You. Sonofabitch.

So... Then I meet this girl. For whatever reason, she remembers me. Has a semi-good impression of me, I gather. This is a rare thing, especially if you don't actually know me. Hell most people who do know me hated me at first.

Aaahahahanyway... So long story short. For whatever reason, I asked for her number.

Well who cares - it's just a number, right? Wrong... I really do wanna use it. And I want to see her. I want the thrill of the chase again, man. I think it's more that, than the actual girl it/herself. Don't get me wrong, she ain't fat or any shit like that - I'd hit that, and you, dear reader, probably would too ;)

So yeah. Should I try hit that? Or maybe, just tap that a little? To get it out of my system, so to speak? So that forever n ever don't seem to bad, if I get out to play once in awhile?

Oh all the ladies are shaking their heads in disgust, I know.

But I'm not a lady so what the fuck.

Okay, I am starting to see the downside of a fucking blog that no one reads... Who the fuck is going to respond? No hate mail, no Auntie Annie advice.. Fuck. I'm back to square one.

Bloody hell.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Do you really need a title for this?

Okay, so I've got nothing else to do.

How to start the second post on this abomination in a semi-pretentious yet down to earth manner.

Fucksake, I thought I left my pretensions to being a writer behind fucking years ago. Apparently not. Although I really am partial to long, laborious sentences peppered with as much sarcasm, cursing and dry intellect as I can muster, who the fuck would talk like this in real life? I don't think I do, but I guess the voice in my head has decided it does.

Right now, I am mulling over the pointlessness of having this blog space. Like I said, no one's meant to read it. Then what the fuck is the point of writing it? Why don't I just keep this shit inside my goddamn head? I really don't know what the attraction is, I've always hated blogging (especially by emo New Age Panty Wearing guys). Not that, *ahem*, I am in fact a New Age Panty Wearing guy. Does "Panty" even work? It sounds kinda like it shouldn't, the way you do NOT get a "Pant" when you cut some pants in half.

Aaaaanyway.

Yeah, that train of thought is gone. Fuck knows what I was gonna write. Oh well. I'll probably be back with more bullshit shortly.

Ah, right. I was thinking about.... a girl. No, make that two girls. Dontcha just hate that shit? You love em you hate em you love em wait now you love two of em you hate them you hate yourself you love one now you love the other fuck why can't you be a hippie and love fucking everyone you love her but then you'd totally hit that you fuckin wanna kill someone... uh just kidding.

The mystery that is the female mind. The mystery of why I insist, time and time again, to fuck things up while the going is good. Although it's probably not too late at the moment, my mind may have slipped into the gutter, but thanks to good old fashioned laziness and slow neurotransmitters bridging my brain and my body, I'm still technically in the clear. But for how long, and to what degree, I have a feeling, will be decided once and for all very soon.

The different time-zone rule. This is the crux of the matter. My conscience is another. I always thought I'd be the one who did "the right thing", but who knows?

More later. Or something.

In the beginning...

The very act of creating this thing is somewhat of an anti-thesis of my (very publicly expressed) opinions on this subject. I've always maintained that publishing the inner workings of your mind on the internet for all the world to see is fairly pointless - don't you have friends you'd rather tell about your life, in person? Isn't it a huge conversation killer when you meet someone you haven't seen for ages, and start to tell them stories about how you've been, and they stop you with, "Yeah, I know - read it on your blog."?

Yeah, it's gay. Metrosexuality, by the way, friends and neighbours, is the new homosexuality.

But then I find myself in a blog. That I made. And that I intend to use.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?!

You, however, don't really have to worry about that part. This blog, I think, is going to be purely for noting all the strange thoughts that fly around, mingle, hang out, have a break and a Kit-Kat in my head. I doubt any one I know will see it, but if you do, great fun! Hell, I'm not even sure who the fuck "you" is (are??).

Don't expect anything along the lines of "Oh look at the pretty clothes I bought", or "Here's my dog/cat/insert generic household pet", or "Man, I am so gay I publish my "sensitive" thoughts for everyone to see"... No pictures, no music, no links to other peoples internet-thoughts, no nothing. If you don't like over-thinking, compulsively vulgar, often angry almost to the point of murderous thoughts, don't bother. You really should have clicked on the link that said "Katie's Sunshine Castle", or something completely fucked like "I'm high on LIFE/JESUS/assorted quasi-religious experiences you think you can get hopped up on".

Again, who the fuck am I talking to?? You, really aren't supposed to be anyone. I guess it's better though, to be talking to "You", than simply talking to myself.

That would just be plain crazy, muchacha.

But then again, who's to say who is and who isn't.

Enjoy.