The irony is that I avoid social situations because I am insufficiently judgmental and (without specific cause) unlikely to lie. I fear being judged and can rarely tell when people are being dishonest. Give me something concrete, and my judgement can easily be ruthless and objective. But with people I almost (and almost is admittedly rather key) assume good intentions.

Awkward.

The problem is that it isn't purely sexual.

Oh, there was adoration before too, but it was essentially sexual and intellectual/skill-based. Don't get me wrong, I love M, R and N as people too, but I have no barely repressible urge to wrap them up in my arms and hold them and breathe them in, just 'cause. And it isn't that I'm not ludicrously sexually attracted to him, and like I couldn't talk to him for hours. See that's the problem I suppose. Because if it were only one or two of these things, I could manage. But it's not. It's the whole fucking deal.

Fuck.

And I would just take my frustration out on you, but you're a whole half country away and that quite simply isn't helpful. I don't want to talk about it, it's embarrassing. I just want to deal with it. Although I feel like I should warn you that you don't quite measure up; must be something to do with him having more than ten years on you or something. Hey, maybe we'll work out and I'll actually get to have you when you're his age... that would be nice.

Alright. Twelve or so days until I get to substitute with you. Maybe by the time I get back here I'll be over the worst of this. Maybe.

God I want to be dead. Not in a particularly depressed way, just in a tired, hopeless, I'm-really-not-cut-out-to-ever-have-been-born kind of way.

The people I care about don't deserve a piece of shit like me, they deserve someone lovely.

Ghrelin.

Sleep is something that has been absent of late, only present for about nine of the last sixty hours. This has resulted in an unprecedented influx of ghrelin (hormone produced in stomach, appetite stimulant). Ceaseless hunger, but somehow also far lovelier feeling than it ever has before.

Never has hunger felt this exquisite.

ftw

For the win.

For the mother fucking win.

I knew she wasn't straight, and I actually couldn't imagine them having been exclusive for the entirety of their relationship.

I'm damn near as satisfied as if I'd actually bet someone on it.

Trepidation.

I'm fairly certain that I could handle going back to just friends with you if our impending relationship were to fail. But I'm not one hundred percent sure that you could.

And I'm fairly certain I wouldn't be able to handle life without you entirely.

Neither of our track records, nor our mental states, bode well for stability, but somehow I don't think that I could forgive myself for not trying either. Not that we haven't already fallen into it, really.

I hate being so fucking far away from you.
Talk to you tomorrow.

(When did we agree to start exchanging 'I love you's?)

contentment

written around ten earlier this evening:


I just wish 
that I could get this
loveliness
that lasts so rarely
for but a moment
to be the slightest bit less


ephemeral.




Just nicotine, contentement gone in a flash


Now, two am:


Nicotine
Ketamine
Goodness without immediate
end.
Something almost like
happiness.
Deep breaths,
loveliness
that I actually have time to 
appreciate.
Thank you chemistry.
I'll probably resent you when I come 
down.

Hello concrete experiencing of brain chemistry volatility.

Is this mild psychosis?

.

Forget life, I'm feeling disillusioned with existence. What is the point of this silly thing called matter? Love, if you're out there as an overriding concept, I can't find you. Sorry to disappoint, God.

I'm going for a run on the wrong side of town.

Ta.

trying to explain.

there is a hole inside of me that wants filling. all the time

there is a weight on my chest. i can't breathe and i wish it would just crush out my life already so that i don't have to walk around with it anymore

i'm missing something, inside my head. i am unengaged by people, mostly. except for the occasional times that they go ahead and stab me in that weighty hole and i engage too much. then it gets heavier and emptier and tries to bleed all over. sometimes it succeeds

mostly though i just don't exist

Because I can't tell anyone real.

Because I can't tell you because you're still a mess. And I can't tell twitter because it would be too awkward and would need too much of an explanation. And I can't tell anyone who knows them because then I would have to explain the pains I went to to find out and why I care.


He's forty, she's twenty-six. I feel vindicated. And I feel hope for all of the relationships that aren't supposed to happen. (Even though I'm pretty fucking stuck on you and you're two years younger than me.)


I also feel like a major creep. In major part I blame facebook for making that kind of socially acceptable, but I also just feel like a creep.

But I don't regret it.



I don't think I can adequately articulate the significance of this for me.

Fuckity-fuck-fuckfuck

You're not supposed to hurt. I mean obviously you will because you're human and not impervious but fuck you're supposed to be okay. I'm supposed to be the fucked up (er) one and yet I'm still on the fence (procrastinating) about getting help and you broke down. And we're fucking seventeen hundred kilometres apart. And that was killing me long before I needed to be there for you. Fuck.

I love you.

This is one of those moments where I wish I believed in a god who gave a shit. (Please god.) Be okay?

I've got it easy.

If they can do it, I can fucking manage too.

*determined face*

Please.

Please stop trying to blame society for the way my brain works? It's not that I'm special, it's just not that simple either.

And it doesn't help.

Eating peanuts and being miserly.

Sometimes I feel as though most of the people around me are a bit dim. And then I feel like an awful, awful person.

But supposing, just for a moment, that I actually were a bit less dim, what the fuck's the point if I've got nothing to show for it?

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I will watch KF make endearing gestures and explain Plato with a callous thoroughness that leaves nothing to be desired and everything to be appreciated. My attention will, undoubtably, be drawn to the way his well-worn jeans clash with his crisp dress shirt and the solid thighs and heavy cock that must lurk underneath.

Tomorrow I will see scruffy-cute (over whom I will swoon) and small-and-dear (to whom I will be respectfully endeared) and spindly-grace (over whom I will indulge in a moment of intense envy).

Tomorrow I will hang on to M's every word and revel in her innocently erotic hand gestures as she inevitably surpasses the lecturer in wit, depth and grace. She will coax, desperately, drivel from our brains and teach us inexorable truths through a perfect combination of poise and potty-mouthed conveyance. I will, more than once, each, be distracted by her perfect tiny mouth, her broad sweeping cheekbones, the crinkle of her eyes, her unbelievably hourglass figure.

Tomorrow I will learn something new from the cafeteria ladies, just like every other day.

Tomorrow I will go to practice where R will work us like dogs. Where R will love us and ply us and shape us into something potentially prepared for success. I wish him luck. With an extra bit of luck, N will be there too, and I will be able to revel in their togetherness. I will adore them and I will loathe myself. I will work hard (but not hard enough) beside other girls pouring their blood, sweat, tears and brains onto the field, together, and I will wish that we could be good enough for R. My eyes will slip, repeatedly and undeniably, to his broad, rough fingers, to her tiny, crinkled laugh lines, to his long, lean legs, to the perfect cut of her teeth when she laughs.

I promise to hate that I procrastinate, to hate my ignorance and most of all, to hate myself.

A blog.

Um, my immediate interest in this is a more convenient way to follow some blogs that I've been following manually for a little while now. So yes. Nothing much here for now, but I'm sure I'll find a use for it. :)