My Book
i didnt tell you all but im kind of writing a book, and i thought it would be good it i pasted a little bit of it up here... anyways have fun.
Have you ever been so bored that you where willing to do anything? I have been, in fact I am now, otherwise I wouldn’t have the time, or patience to write this. I’m siting in front of the computer, as is what usually happens at night for me, it really has been such a long time since I’ve been out and really enjoyed myself. I mean I go out occasionally. Have some fun, once I even got two girls numbers... but was to chicken to call. So what can I say then, how about depressing as it is, the last time I went out and truly enjoyed myself was just over a year ago with my ex girl friend. Which by the way it appears that im still in love with. And that to me is actually very distressing... In fact it pisses me off, yet I can’t stop thinking about her. I try and get over her, but nothing ever really works out for me. The worst is at the moment it feels like absolutely no one cares are wants to listens.
You know the funniest thing, is I had actually once decided to sit a write a story or something, but I always start and I never finish. So where should I actually start then? Is there actually a good place for a story? Well I guess I could always start at the things that play on my mind. I think you may find this droll. But maybe it would be good to try and clear my head. Then again you may feel like you can relate, I hope you can, cause it’s never good to feel alone.
I once was told life is but a series of moments, and with each second that passes, we are given a chance to renew ourselves, or fix our mistakes. I believe that is true, but also I believe that each life is just a minute in time, and although that minute, lasts a lifetime, it is still as small as a breathe upon the wind. Well anyways I can correct that now, I don’t believe it anymore, in fact think its wishful thinking. The saying it takes two to tango is true, you can’t fix your problems, especially when it involves another who don’t want anything to do with you. As most problems, always involve other people, it’s almost impossible to fix.
You know that feeling when you can still in the middle of a crowded street, and feel like you’re the only one there, well that’s me on most days. If you can’t tell my mind and thoughts tend to be very scattered, so ill be switching from one topic to the next…
I wonder can anyone tell me if crying is really a good thing or a bad thing? And can time really cure a broken heart? Or a broken life? What do you do when you believe you’ve been mentally abused so badly by your peers that you for ever feel like your life is meaningless, like there’s no reason to bother to ever do anything, because your just not worth it. School life is meant to be a time of learning and fun. I only really remember it as a time of fear, and ridicule. Where I’m actually amazed I came out as well as I have.
I remember when I was in year 2. That I told a girl I liked I loved her, which to me didn’t seem like that big of a deal. But to everyone else it was. I was teased and teased because of it and the other children basically quarantined me like I was some diseased person. Even my friends abandoned me. They used to tell me I’m still your friend, just don’t tell anyone, like I was someone to be ashamed of. I thought and hoped as the year went on, it would go away, but it didn’t. I remember being in the choir, that year, and even kids from other schools joined in on the scorn. I tried not to let it affect me, but it’s impossible for a 7 year old to avoid it. So I used to hide in the library where no one really bothered to go. And sometimes in stead of reading, I would just put my head in a book like I was reading it and cry.
I guess that that year was like the start of the downturn of my life, gone was anytime I would ever feel completely happy again. It basically represents my life to me. One moment in time I would have everything, and be content, and the next nothing but scorn, loneliness and pain. Is this the cycle of life? Cause it surely seems that way to me. I really do pray that there is more to life than disappointment. I know I haven’t always been the best of people, but could someone really be out there punishing me? Could anything I have done been that bad, that my life must be ruined for it? Because to be honest, I am so scared of trying to move forward and be happy again, in fear that it will be like every other piece of my life, crushed and lost.
I can only be glad in one thing my family. Well my Parents at any rate. Because no matter what my parents have always been there if I ever needed help. Although they know I’ll never ask for it. They will be there. And maybe I guess they are part of the reason why I keep going. My mother I love you dearly, although I can never really tell you. You have always been my support and always listen, when I finally talk. And my father I love you as well. You’re like my Rock. Although we rarely get along, I’m always glad in thought that whenever things go wrong, you’re always there to try and help. Even if you don’t listen to me. I’m still glad. My parents are no perfect in fact there far from it, and there are lots of things everyone would love to change. But to be honest I couldn’t imagine mine any other way. There not perfect, but that’s what makes them special and unique. You two people better prize this forever, because it is probably the only praise you’ll ever get from me. I feel sorry for those people who don’t have this. Because they will never really know the pleasure, or the pain, that they have or the support that you can get even when the world is crashing around your ears.
I never want to see the day when they are gone, but I know one day it will happen. And that thought usually sends tears to my eyes. I never would have thought that thinking about some unforseen event yet to happen would cause such sadness yet it does. Weird huh? Yet funnily enough there was a brief period in time when I would have traded both these beloved and precious people for one person. The girl, I fell for and the one who I can never be free of. No matter how much I want to be or try.
Can some one tell me exactly how on earth you could let someone get such a hold on you? I’d really like to know, or how something could reduce a 22 year old to utter tears. I can’t stand it at times, feeling so alone and depressed. Yet sometimes there are happy moments, and I remember, how good it feels to be loved. I desire that so much you know. I put so much pressure on myself for that. I’m on the search for that perfect and unattainable girl. I know every one has there own views on that perfect person, but maybe mine are a whole lot different, but I’m not looking for someone perfect. I love the fact that there is uniqueness amongst people. I mean the girl I’m still in love with, had so many flaws, but that’s one of the things I loved about her.
I could probably find another girl, instead of just moping around and complaining, about how I was treated. I mean I’m not a bad guy, I’m good looking I guess. I say I guess, because my personal opinion of my self is nothing special. I’m just a common guy. You know the type, Brown hair, Brown eyes about 6ft tall (that’s 183cm) white male. Just your average guy.
Sometimes, I wonder what its like to enjoy something, to actually feel. For example I like cars. But the real question is do I? I mean I have a slight knowledge, I’m interested a little, but loose interest really quickly. So do I really like cars? Or do I just think that is what like is? I only used cars as an example, because in truth, I’m like this in all aspects of my life. Be it cars or music. Actually music is got to be something I can say sometimes I enjoy. I use other people’s music, to show how I’m feeling, and I always use it, in day dreaming about past events I would have loved to have changed. When I was at senior high, we had this thing called multicultural day. On this day people from different cultures in a school preformed, in front of the school, by doing like a song or a dance, from their culture. And being a true white boy, I don’t really have a culture. And that is because common society culture is my culture. And obviously there’s no real point in preforming things people see every day and take for granted is there?
But whenever I’m alone, and I am listening to music, I can’t help but dream, that I to could have at least once had the courage to stand up and preform, and be noted and loved by my peers. Just once. Like I said, I want to love and be loved. So I guess that is the true part and wishful thinking of my day dreaming, to be popular and loved, admired, and respected, instead of being who I am.
I guess I’m a little touchy at times too now. I really don’t mean, to be, but I am. I guess its just my whole life has made me edgy. Oh by the way please don’t think I’m whining or anything, cause the fact is I’m not. I’m just telling you how I feel think, and what has happened to make me feel this way. I guess in a way, I’m venting my frustration and your reading what it is I’ve got to say, no matter how trivial it may seem to you.
Anyways. Back to it guess. When I was seven about fours days before my 8th birthday, when I had entered year Three. My family and I moved. We didn’t move that far, we moved from Kingswood, to St Marys. For all those who don’t know, these areas are in Sydney’s western suburbs. Which ever way it was only two suburbs. I didn’t really have to worry about leaving friends behind, cause quite simply, I had none, the incident with the girl, lost me all of them. I started at a school named St marys north. It was a public school, could I say enough said? No? ok then the principal there was Mr Chalmers. My new teachers name was Ms Smith. Blonde hair brown eyes, but in her mid late fourties.. well I think so anyway.
On my first day there I made a friend. His name was David. He was kind of funny looking, really short brown hair, blues eyes really skinny. But nice. He had a twin brother named Michael, id tell you what he looked like but other than a small mole on his neck you couldn’t tell them apart. I was getting along really well with them, they had even convinced me to join the cub scouts with them. Then for reasons I still cant quite comprehend, a boy named Steven told a lie to them about me. I hadn’t even met this steven before, I had probably seen him once in the play ground. I still don’t quite understand why they believed him, in truth I don’t even know what he said. But I had lost my two only friends. I didn’t know what to do, so I did as I had done at my previous school, retreated to the library. I tried to make other friends but It really did seem like no one wanted to know me, and yet again I was teased and ridiculed. And each time it happened I hid in the library again. To be utterly alone, unloved and unwanted. which is very hard to atke, for a boy only eight years old.
Have you ever been so bored that you where willing to do anything? I have been, in fact I am now, otherwise I wouldn’t have the time, or patience to write this. I’m siting in front of the computer, as is what usually happens at night for me, it really has been such a long time since I’ve been out and really enjoyed myself. I mean I go out occasionally. Have some fun, once I even got two girls numbers... but was to chicken to call. So what can I say then, how about depressing as it is, the last time I went out and truly enjoyed myself was just over a year ago with my ex girl friend. Which by the way it appears that im still in love with. And that to me is actually very distressing... In fact it pisses me off, yet I can’t stop thinking about her. I try and get over her, but nothing ever really works out for me. The worst is at the moment it feels like absolutely no one cares are wants to listens.
You know the funniest thing, is I had actually once decided to sit a write a story or something, but I always start and I never finish. So where should I actually start then? Is there actually a good place for a story? Well I guess I could always start at the things that play on my mind. I think you may find this droll. But maybe it would be good to try and clear my head. Then again you may feel like you can relate, I hope you can, cause it’s never good to feel alone.
I once was told life is but a series of moments, and with each second that passes, we are given a chance to renew ourselves, or fix our mistakes. I believe that is true, but also I believe that each life is just a minute in time, and although that minute, lasts a lifetime, it is still as small as a breathe upon the wind. Well anyways I can correct that now, I don’t believe it anymore, in fact think its wishful thinking. The saying it takes two to tango is true, you can’t fix your problems, especially when it involves another who don’t want anything to do with you. As most problems, always involve other people, it’s almost impossible to fix.
You know that feeling when you can still in the middle of a crowded street, and feel like you’re the only one there, well that’s me on most days. If you can’t tell my mind and thoughts tend to be very scattered, so ill be switching from one topic to the next…
I wonder can anyone tell me if crying is really a good thing or a bad thing? And can time really cure a broken heart? Or a broken life? What do you do when you believe you’ve been mentally abused so badly by your peers that you for ever feel like your life is meaningless, like there’s no reason to bother to ever do anything, because your just not worth it. School life is meant to be a time of learning and fun. I only really remember it as a time of fear, and ridicule. Where I’m actually amazed I came out as well as I have.
I remember when I was in year 2. That I told a girl I liked I loved her, which to me didn’t seem like that big of a deal. But to everyone else it was. I was teased and teased because of it and the other children basically quarantined me like I was some diseased person. Even my friends abandoned me. They used to tell me I’m still your friend, just don’t tell anyone, like I was someone to be ashamed of. I thought and hoped as the year went on, it would go away, but it didn’t. I remember being in the choir, that year, and even kids from other schools joined in on the scorn. I tried not to let it affect me, but it’s impossible for a 7 year old to avoid it. So I used to hide in the library where no one really bothered to go. And sometimes in stead of reading, I would just put my head in a book like I was reading it and cry.
I guess that that year was like the start of the downturn of my life, gone was anytime I would ever feel completely happy again. It basically represents my life to me. One moment in time I would have everything, and be content, and the next nothing but scorn, loneliness and pain. Is this the cycle of life? Cause it surely seems that way to me. I really do pray that there is more to life than disappointment. I know I haven’t always been the best of people, but could someone really be out there punishing me? Could anything I have done been that bad, that my life must be ruined for it? Because to be honest, I am so scared of trying to move forward and be happy again, in fear that it will be like every other piece of my life, crushed and lost.
I can only be glad in one thing my family. Well my Parents at any rate. Because no matter what my parents have always been there if I ever needed help. Although they know I’ll never ask for it. They will be there. And maybe I guess they are part of the reason why I keep going. My mother I love you dearly, although I can never really tell you. You have always been my support and always listen, when I finally talk. And my father I love you as well. You’re like my Rock. Although we rarely get along, I’m always glad in thought that whenever things go wrong, you’re always there to try and help. Even if you don’t listen to me. I’m still glad. My parents are no perfect in fact there far from it, and there are lots of things everyone would love to change. But to be honest I couldn’t imagine mine any other way. There not perfect, but that’s what makes them special and unique. You two people better prize this forever, because it is probably the only praise you’ll ever get from me. I feel sorry for those people who don’t have this. Because they will never really know the pleasure, or the pain, that they have or the support that you can get even when the world is crashing around your ears.
I never want to see the day when they are gone, but I know one day it will happen. And that thought usually sends tears to my eyes. I never would have thought that thinking about some unforseen event yet to happen would cause such sadness yet it does. Weird huh? Yet funnily enough there was a brief period in time when I would have traded both these beloved and precious people for one person. The girl, I fell for and the one who I can never be free of. No matter how much I want to be or try.
Can some one tell me exactly how on earth you could let someone get such a hold on you? I’d really like to know, or how something could reduce a 22 year old to utter tears. I can’t stand it at times, feeling so alone and depressed. Yet sometimes there are happy moments, and I remember, how good it feels to be loved. I desire that so much you know. I put so much pressure on myself for that. I’m on the search for that perfect and unattainable girl. I know every one has there own views on that perfect person, but maybe mine are a whole lot different, but I’m not looking for someone perfect. I love the fact that there is uniqueness amongst people. I mean the girl I’m still in love with, had so many flaws, but that’s one of the things I loved about her.
I could probably find another girl, instead of just moping around and complaining, about how I was treated. I mean I’m not a bad guy, I’m good looking I guess. I say I guess, because my personal opinion of my self is nothing special. I’m just a common guy. You know the type, Brown hair, Brown eyes about 6ft tall (that’s 183cm) white male. Just your average guy.
Sometimes, I wonder what its like to enjoy something, to actually feel. For example I like cars. But the real question is do I? I mean I have a slight knowledge, I’m interested a little, but loose interest really quickly. So do I really like cars? Or do I just think that is what like is? I only used cars as an example, because in truth, I’m like this in all aspects of my life. Be it cars or music. Actually music is got to be something I can say sometimes I enjoy. I use other people’s music, to show how I’m feeling, and I always use it, in day dreaming about past events I would have loved to have changed. When I was at senior high, we had this thing called multicultural day. On this day people from different cultures in a school preformed, in front of the school, by doing like a song or a dance, from their culture. And being a true white boy, I don’t really have a culture. And that is because common society culture is my culture. And obviously there’s no real point in preforming things people see every day and take for granted is there?
But whenever I’m alone, and I am listening to music, I can’t help but dream, that I to could have at least once had the courage to stand up and preform, and be noted and loved by my peers. Just once. Like I said, I want to love and be loved. So I guess that is the true part and wishful thinking of my day dreaming, to be popular and loved, admired, and respected, instead of being who I am.
I guess I’m a little touchy at times too now. I really don’t mean, to be, but I am. I guess its just my whole life has made me edgy. Oh by the way please don’t think I’m whining or anything, cause the fact is I’m not. I’m just telling you how I feel think, and what has happened to make me feel this way. I guess in a way, I’m venting my frustration and your reading what it is I’ve got to say, no matter how trivial it may seem to you.
Anyways. Back to it guess. When I was seven about fours days before my 8th birthday, when I had entered year Three. My family and I moved. We didn’t move that far, we moved from Kingswood, to St Marys. For all those who don’t know, these areas are in Sydney’s western suburbs. Which ever way it was only two suburbs. I didn’t really have to worry about leaving friends behind, cause quite simply, I had none, the incident with the girl, lost me all of them. I started at a school named St marys north. It was a public school, could I say enough said? No? ok then the principal there was Mr Chalmers. My new teachers name was Ms Smith. Blonde hair brown eyes, but in her mid late fourties.. well I think so anyway.
On my first day there I made a friend. His name was David. He was kind of funny looking, really short brown hair, blues eyes really skinny. But nice. He had a twin brother named Michael, id tell you what he looked like but other than a small mole on his neck you couldn’t tell them apart. I was getting along really well with them, they had even convinced me to join the cub scouts with them. Then for reasons I still cant quite comprehend, a boy named Steven told a lie to them about me. I hadn’t even met this steven before, I had probably seen him once in the play ground. I still don’t quite understand why they believed him, in truth I don’t even know what he said. But I had lost my two only friends. I didn’t know what to do, so I did as I had done at my previous school, retreated to the library. I tried to make other friends but It really did seem like no one wanted to know me, and yet again I was teased and ridiculed. And each time it happened I hid in the library again. To be utterly alone, unloved and unwanted. which is very hard to atke, for a boy only eight years old.