Mindless All the Way

May 14th, 2008 9:53:30 am - Subscribe
Mood: neurotic

I took adderall to help me study. I went to the lobby for a better environment. I expected focus.

My mouth tastes of plastic electricity.

I'm pretty sure it was covered in E. I got all euphoric and nuts. It faded after a while. I ran downstairs to grab a drink but ended up in the wrong area with the wrong currency.

I sat with Josh while he was at work. I bet I annoy the hell out of that kid. He's like Jeremy in the worst way, the type of person who can't reveal how they truly feel about others. Insanely polite.

I was all nuts from the brief E high and ran around for a bit. Josh showed me a video that reached into the scariest location within me. Tears traveled down my face as the lights danced before me. I knew where this was going.

This was the worst timing.

This was the only timing.

This is what I need to feel. This is not how I should have to feel it.

I much rather put off my sadness until the tears are convenient and concealed. Sadly, it never works out.

Is this how it works for everyone? I like to think I'm special. I like to pretend I'm the only one who hides. But it's everyone else who's hiding. I'm the honest one. I'm an open book. An encyclopedia of insanity. I only hide what destroys not what is merely unpleasant. Often, my honesty pushes others away. Am I hiding, or am I just forcing others to abandon me?

I was crying because I feel alone. Josh was sitting right there trying to make it better. Comfort hurts sometimes. I can only imagine what goes through the minds of others at moments like these. I still see what is to come. I still see what has happened. He can't hold me forever. It's only a matter of time before I force him out of my life.

I can't be near anyone. This is what happens. I see the end. I want to say this is different but is it? Right now it seems he's more capable of hurting me than I am of him.

This may be different. But it reveals another edition of my cowardice.

I just wanted to study.

Eric does it too. I'm not him, I'm not him, I'm not him. I'm not him. I am not him. I am not Eric.

Please, don't let me be him.

I'm moving. I'm not depending on my parents. I hardly contact them. Words never find themselves in their direction. I feel like such a failure and I haven't even done anything yet.

I feel their disappointment. I want to make them proud. I want them to tell me what to do. WHAT DO THEY WANT? They want me to be happy but they don't teach you that in school.

(I never write in all caps. I actually screamed that in my head. It was sharp.)

I can't work in an office. I want to be a great artist, I want to be a novelist, I want to be a minimalist, traveling the country. I want to settle down somewhere. I want to be alone, I want great friends. I want to be independent. I want to do something selfless. I want to change the world. I want my family to be proud of me.

I want to stop crying... now.

The adderall is causing me to focus on everything that has ever hurt me.

Or perhaps I'm causing that. I brought all this baggage out in the open to Josh. I don't know why I speak of such things lately. This shouldn't be the only angle of myself I have to offer the world. At a point of confusion he suggested I make a timeline.

He was kidding.

2000
Severe ADD, daydreaming turned into hallucinations and longterm dillusions, broke a mirror, found reality in bleeding.

2001
9/11, Kenny was sent overseas almost instantly. Mom completely detached herself from everyone. Smoked lots of pot. Lonely as hell. Dad never around. Brothers drinking, working, smoking. Date rape. More seclusion.

2003
Started dating Nichols. Felt better about things. Rekindled friendships. He cheated with Desawhore, I quit eating. Severe desperation for human contact. More Pot. Constant drama.

2004
Mom still in front of Leave It To Beaver. Started dating Neusome. Beat the hell out of me, physically forced to give him head. Threw up, beat me some more then jerked off in my face and slept with Desirae over the weekend. Broke up the following Monday. Offered to put out more if he took me back. Referred to as Pukedick for weeks following.

2004
Can't give good head. Kenny came home. Jeremy started weening his way into my life. Laura=beauty. Ceased food issues. Happy again. Still smoking pot. Swore off guys. Jeremy ruined that. Stopped being "goth". Laura's dad died. Empathy. New perspective.

2005
Eric took me to see Weezer.First signs of Eric's problem. Still getting high. Still can't give head. Started drinking. Apathetic relatioinship w/ Hook.

2006
Discontinued excessive pot use. Eric messed up. I witnessed. Sat around the house all summer making me do shit for him. Mom, mad at him, chose to take it out on me, as I was the "stable" one. Worked three jobs to escape. Comfort in numbness. "Never drink again." Apathy.

2007
Maggie. Anxiety problems. Mild alcoholism. Hopelessness about future. Broke up with Jeremy to persue Old Kid. Graduation. Parents found cigarettes. Stopped talking, domestic issues, took Jeremy back, still dealing with Eric. Moved in with Lucas, moved into dorms.

Everything got better.

Everything since then is irrelevant. I'm not sure what I've accomplished from this. I don't think it helped me understand my state... at all. This is my skeleton. These past few months are a new outfit I'm not used to.

There is a great deal I hate about college. I feel like in highschool, everyone knew my whole story. Now I have to constantly explain myself to new people. Whether it's "Why do they call you Grampa?" or "Why won't you give me a blow job?" or "Why do you put up with Chelsea?" or "Why do you always twitch like that," It's not that I don't want people to know me. I just grow so tired of the same questions. I wish only one person could show curiousity and I can give the world my explaination all at once. I guess sometimes I feel as though I need to hear it to remember what went wrong.

I guess that's why I hate meeting people. I hate it that they don't just get me right away. I never realized how much history everyone has. I've only known Chelsea for 8 months and yet, I probably know more about her than most people she grew up with.

Cookies breaking off the edges to fit into the jar of college.

I miss my corners.

Despite my irritation with the questions, I've become so much more open. I think I'm trying to push everyone away from me. I want everyone to see how insane I am. Maybe I want to see how much a person can know me before they run off.

Invalid. No one has ever run from me. I always do the running.

Do I want them to understand me? Perhaps I feel I need to know that someone can handle me.

No such luck.

Chelsea can't even handle me. But she accepts me. That's why I can't let her go. She treats me badly and I don't always like her but she unmistakably sees who I am and still wants to be around me.

That's fucking special.

Jeremy was the same. He was nicer to me. I think I like him more than Chelsea but it pisses me off that he won't go to school. I don't want to be in love with him. It was difficult to break it off with him because he's so sensitive and I feel responsible for destroying him. Have you ever destroyed your best friend? He'll manage.

It's over now.

But then Josh wandered in.

Dammit, it's not like it was his fault. I completely initiated it. I almost wish Chelsea would just sleep with him already so I can get over him and focus on other things. I love how she looks out for me.

She can obliterate me.

Is she really all that good for me?

I want to crawl into that outlet. My kidneys hurt. My head is spinning. Adderall was a bad idea. At least I'm awake. I wish I could study instead of sit here and analyze every possible theory as to why I can't stop crying. Why I push people away. Why I can't focus. Why I only hurt at the worst times. Why I can't just have short intervals of feeling instead of eruptions of devistation when I should be my happiest.

Why I smell like an appliance.

Why my focus is on the wrong dilemma.

Why other people know why they are sad and my sadness is a subconscious/repressed torment whose deciphering proceedure is nearly impossible.

I am not a complex person.

Drama is not my fancy.

This is probably why I crash. Others seem to crash harder and more often. I crash in an unusual fashion.

I wish I didn't have to do this.

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