the more things change..
It's Friday night. And I can't help but think about where I was at this time a year ago. I think I was either sitting alone in my room smoking a bowl or buying a random ass ticket to Cali. I could have been aimlessly roaming the streets of MP trying to ascertain through my muddled head who this awkward girl I had become was. Or making an ass out of myself to people who too long ago wrote me off as a completely neurotic.
I'd like to think things have changed. Mostly that I have changed. But really all that’s different is the setting. And this time it’s only a Marlboro Light. I'd like to think that I'll never be so desperate as to abandon the last shred of my pride in an effort to reach out to the only people I met (or rather never met) that I saw within them something with which I thought I could relate.
No. The primary components are the same. I've withdrawn from those around me. A while ago my screensaver photo slideshow activated and I saw pictures of me in high school. Lately, I've been wondering what could have happened that caused me to change from the social, people person I was in high school to this beyond introverted misfit. Then I remembered that those things were much easier to shroud with a cheerleading smile and a group of other misfits that somehow knew how to pull off normalcy to the public.
Then during the latter part of freshman year it was too late. I was already too far gone and so lost in my own darkness that even when I found people I thought would understand what it was like, I had changed into this thing. An enfeebled cripple that no longer even had the strength to hate herself anymore. It just kills me now thinking about it. I wanted to scream "I'm not so fucked up! But that's just the thing, I am and so are you and I know we can be friends. I see it in you and it is something I haven't seen in anyone else for so long. But really, this isn’t me. These things I am doing and saying are not me. I just don’t know how to act anymore but if you'll just let me show you, you'll see it too. That we're the same in that way. I see Cain's- or rather Hesse's mark. I have it too, don't you see?" But it came out all wrong. And now even if I ever do see it in people I meet today, all the more reason to hide. It is so rare to see something like that in another person that now all I can do is ignore it because it is easier than dealing with the utter self-misrepresentation and humiliation that resulted the last time. And the humiliation I can deal with, the self-misrepresentation and loss of meeting another like myself, I cannot.
I can blame it on drugs, depression, and despair. I can say I was just so desperate for people who understood me the way those whom I loved but had recently renounced me and everything I thought we had- that I was willing to do absolutely anything for their attention. But when it comes down to it, those were still my actions. My decisions. And I fear most that absolutely nothing has changed. That I am still that lost girl from freshman year. And I’ll just fuck it all up again. So I don’t. I just sit here and type in this stupid journal. Again, like last year. And keep to myself and not let anyone know me. And sadly, I do not really get to know anyone else.
Maybe this is just because the three people that do know me have left. Another reason to suspect my unchanged self. Do I really always just need others as my impetus for life? Perhaps I just live my life in rules of three.
Speaking of which, she’s coming to visit me. We haven’t talked in over two years. Love’s a funny thing.
All right enough of this nonsense.
I'd like to think things have changed. Mostly that I have changed. But really all that’s different is the setting. And this time it’s only a Marlboro Light. I'd like to think that I'll never be so desperate as to abandon the last shred of my pride in an effort to reach out to the only people I met (or rather never met) that I saw within them something with which I thought I could relate.
No. The primary components are the same. I've withdrawn from those around me. A while ago my screensaver photo slideshow activated and I saw pictures of me in high school. Lately, I've been wondering what could have happened that caused me to change from the social, people person I was in high school to this beyond introverted misfit. Then I remembered that those things were much easier to shroud with a cheerleading smile and a group of other misfits that somehow knew how to pull off normalcy to the public.
Then during the latter part of freshman year it was too late. I was already too far gone and so lost in my own darkness that even when I found people I thought would understand what it was like, I had changed into this thing. An enfeebled cripple that no longer even had the strength to hate herself anymore. It just kills me now thinking about it. I wanted to scream "I'm not so fucked up! But that's just the thing, I am and so are you and I know we can be friends. I see it in you and it is something I haven't seen in anyone else for so long. But really, this isn’t me. These things I am doing and saying are not me. I just don’t know how to act anymore but if you'll just let me show you, you'll see it too. That we're the same in that way. I see Cain's- or rather Hesse's mark. I have it too, don't you see?" But it came out all wrong. And now even if I ever do see it in people I meet today, all the more reason to hide. It is so rare to see something like that in another person that now all I can do is ignore it because it is easier than dealing with the utter self-misrepresentation and humiliation that resulted the last time. And the humiliation I can deal with, the self-misrepresentation and loss of meeting another like myself, I cannot.
I can blame it on drugs, depression, and despair. I can say I was just so desperate for people who understood me the way those whom I loved but had recently renounced me and everything I thought we had- that I was willing to do absolutely anything for their attention. But when it comes down to it, those were still my actions. My decisions. And I fear most that absolutely nothing has changed. That I am still that lost girl from freshman year. And I’ll just fuck it all up again. So I don’t. I just sit here and type in this stupid journal. Again, like last year. And keep to myself and not let anyone know me. And sadly, I do not really get to know anyone else.
Maybe this is just because the three people that do know me have left. Another reason to suspect my unchanged self. Do I really always just need others as my impetus for life? Perhaps I just live my life in rules of three.
Speaking of which, she’s coming to visit me. We haven’t talked in over two years. Love’s a funny thing.
All right enough of this nonsense.