"I will give you my finest hour, the one I spent, watching you shower. . ."
I must first note, that the title comes from some Blondie lyrics. I must also now note, that, generally, listening or referencing Blondie or the Ramones, means I am happy, energetic, particularly silly, carefree, happy-go-lucky. Now, keep in mind, that I have also selected "lonely" for my "mood" for this particular entry. I'm just trying to get at how paradoxical I'm feeling right now.
I am silly. I am lonely. I am human. I think that explains it. yep. perfectly. I'm not trying to speak in tongues this entry either; I want to be honest, and straightforward, and write an entry everyone can understand. . .for once. I'm not very good at that. I am good at, however, writing entries that seem more like one-sided conversations, rather than actual journal entries.
Last night, or this morning, I wrote a somewhat lengthy entry in my real journal (hand-written one) on the subject of loneliness. Those sharp pangs of loneliness hit me suddenly yesterday. But, they did not make me unhappy. I'm not morose, or melancholy; on the contrary, I am lively, yet somehow incomplete. I feel pretty good. Life is good. I really am glad that July has returned, and that for once I am using my summer to just relax and hang out with friends. Life is good, however, I'm getting to that point ---a point I can usually deny, or starve off --- where I just wish I had somebody to hug, and kiss, and cuddle with and watch a movie with, rather than sit around all day and go online for like, over four hours a day. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if I just want it for to-day, or forever. i just, I really need it right now. A hug especially. I remember this one time someone gave me a hug, and I realised that my simply lack of close, intimate hugs was upsetting me so much. I then proceeded to hug a scratchy poll, but realised that, ultimately, I needed that human contact. I may be seventeen, but I'm still just a kid. A poor child, that needs to be held close to a mother's bosom, and suck milk from it, and to be burped and fed, and have my diapers changed, and be sung lullabies to sleep. Okay, that does sound pathetic, and I am far too old for all of that to literally happen, but I need the figurative equivalent. I think, once more, the fact that I have a tense and awkward relationship with my parents is affecting me.
her: *knocks on door* can you come help me for five minutes?
me: *panting, in the middle of exercises, and somewhat irritable* I'm in the middle of exercising! hold on!
*a few minutes later*
me: *with obvious signs of irritation and impatience* I don't understand why you're interrupting me. I'm working on a time-table. That, and I'm too sweaty to be putting sheets on bed.
her: And where do I fit on your time table?
me: *snapping back* where do I fit on yours?!
her: you fit on mine 24 hours a day. ..
I'm not trying to throw myself a pity-party. I'm merely saying, how can I expect the closeness from another human being, if I estrange myself that much from my own mother? how? I am that insensitive at times. It really wasn't that big of a deal that she was interrupting me; I still had half an hour do waste after exercises. It also, didn't even take five minutes. I hardly talk to either of my parents anymore. My mother thinks me declaring that I am not heterosexual is a foolish mistake of age; she doesn't seem to get that I genuinely am not straight. I know she loves me, and I know I love her, but I often wonder, what kind of love is it? Is it the love of close, intimate human beings, or is the casual love of a song, of a soft drink? I really feel I bonded more to my grandparents, both of whom are now dead, and to an uncle I've been estranged from for some 5-6 odd years now ( we still talk, and see each other, but not as frequently and it's more so at get-togethers). Honestly, out of all the human beings I know, I know I'm not close to myself. Zack and Andrea are the only ones, I feel, that truly seem to get me; that we can talk about whatever inane, psychological thing that's bothering us. I feel really bad saying that, especially since I just recently tried to say thank-you to all my friends. It's not that I don't love or care for you, just I don't know how close we are. The sad part is in recent times I feel myself pulling away from Andrea and Zack. I don't know why.
I'm an introvert. I wish I could trace back those origins; is it the womb, or did something traumatic happen to me earlier in life that all my incessant rocking finally repressed out of my conscious memory? Why is it that I love to torture myself, and be tortured? Where does all this depression of mine come from? I can handle it. that I know. I feel as if that I could pull myself to-gether for the whole world, and truly forget my problems, but they'll come back.
I should not tarnish the Ramones or Blondie with this state-of-mind. On a final note. . .all these feelings of isolation and loneliness, and life from behind these walls I don't know how to tear down, but can build with as little conscious effort as breathing. . .I came up with a semi-play-list. .. (no particular order)
so far:
Lola, the Kinks
Sunday Morning, Velvet Underground
Picture This, Blondie
Girlfriend in a Coma; I Know It's Over; both by the Smiths
Napoleon; Untouchable Face; both Ani Difranco
Untouchable Face, Ani Difranco
Watch Her Ride, Jefferson Airplane
Jealous Guy; Oh Yoko; both John Lennon
Eleanor Rigby; All You Need Is Love; The Beatles
Tonight, Tonight; Smashing Pumpkins
Sheena Is a Punk Rocker, Ramones.
I'm going for similar sounds, and themes with that play-list. I need to come up with an order, if I'm sincere about it. that's just a start; some songs prolly wouldn't make it. they are all excellent songs. *blinks*
okay, this update is done. roar. :D *twirls about in silly, comical manner* how can I feel so light-hearted with so much weighing in my mind?! wheee. . .I'm a pop sensation! I wanna twirl! *twirls some more* ah, life. . .what a wonderful blessing in disguise. but as sophia said: I always wondered why blessings wore disguises. If I were a blessing, I'd run around naked. :D *shakes his booty and dances to the music only he can hear*
I am silly. I am lonely. I am human. I think that explains it. yep. perfectly. I'm not trying to speak in tongues this entry either; I want to be honest, and straightforward, and write an entry everyone can understand. . .for once. I'm not very good at that. I am good at, however, writing entries that seem more like one-sided conversations, rather than actual journal entries.
Last night, or this morning, I wrote a somewhat lengthy entry in my real journal (hand-written one) on the subject of loneliness. Those sharp pangs of loneliness hit me suddenly yesterday. But, they did not make me unhappy. I'm not morose, or melancholy; on the contrary, I am lively, yet somehow incomplete. I feel pretty good. Life is good. I really am glad that July has returned, and that for once I am using my summer to just relax and hang out with friends. Life is good, however, I'm getting to that point ---a point I can usually deny, or starve off --- where I just wish I had somebody to hug, and kiss, and cuddle with and watch a movie with, rather than sit around all day and go online for like, over four hours a day. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if I just want it for to-day, or forever. i just, I really need it right now. A hug especially. I remember this one time someone gave me a hug, and I realised that my simply lack of close, intimate hugs was upsetting me so much. I then proceeded to hug a scratchy poll, but realised that, ultimately, I needed that human contact. I may be seventeen, but I'm still just a kid. A poor child, that needs to be held close to a mother's bosom, and suck milk from it, and to be burped and fed, and have my diapers changed, and be sung lullabies to sleep. Okay, that does sound pathetic, and I am far too old for all of that to literally happen, but I need the figurative equivalent. I think, once more, the fact that I have a tense and awkward relationship with my parents is affecting me.
her: *knocks on door* can you come help me for five minutes?
me: *panting, in the middle of exercises, and somewhat irritable* I'm in the middle of exercising! hold on!
*a few minutes later*
me: *with obvious signs of irritation and impatience* I don't understand why you're interrupting me. I'm working on a time-table. That, and I'm too sweaty to be putting sheets on bed.
her: And where do I fit on your time table?
me: *snapping back* where do I fit on yours?!
her: you fit on mine 24 hours a day. ..
I'm not trying to throw myself a pity-party. I'm merely saying, how can I expect the closeness from another human being, if I estrange myself that much from my own mother? how? I am that insensitive at times. It really wasn't that big of a deal that she was interrupting me; I still had half an hour do waste after exercises. It also, didn't even take five minutes. I hardly talk to either of my parents anymore. My mother thinks me declaring that I am not heterosexual is a foolish mistake of age; she doesn't seem to get that I genuinely am not straight. I know she loves me, and I know I love her, but I often wonder, what kind of love is it? Is it the love of close, intimate human beings, or is the casual love of a song, of a soft drink? I really feel I bonded more to my grandparents, both of whom are now dead, and to an uncle I've been estranged from for some 5-6 odd years now ( we still talk, and see each other, but not as frequently and it's more so at get-togethers). Honestly, out of all the human beings I know, I know I'm not close to myself. Zack and Andrea are the only ones, I feel, that truly seem to get me; that we can talk about whatever inane, psychological thing that's bothering us. I feel really bad saying that, especially since I just recently tried to say thank-you to all my friends. It's not that I don't love or care for you, just I don't know how close we are. The sad part is in recent times I feel myself pulling away from Andrea and Zack. I don't know why.
I'm an introvert. I wish I could trace back those origins; is it the womb, or did something traumatic happen to me earlier in life that all my incessant rocking finally repressed out of my conscious memory? Why is it that I love to torture myself, and be tortured? Where does all this depression of mine come from? I can handle it. that I know. I feel as if that I could pull myself to-gether for the whole world, and truly forget my problems, but they'll come back.
I should not tarnish the Ramones or Blondie with this state-of-mind. On a final note. . .all these feelings of isolation and loneliness, and life from behind these walls I don't know how to tear down, but can build with as little conscious effort as breathing. . .I came up with a semi-play-list. .. (no particular order)
so far:
Lola, the Kinks
Sunday Morning, Velvet Underground
Picture This, Blondie
Girlfriend in a Coma; I Know It's Over; both by the Smiths
Napoleon; Untouchable Face; both Ani Difranco
Untouchable Face, Ani Difranco
Watch Her Ride, Jefferson Airplane
Jealous Guy; Oh Yoko; both John Lennon
Eleanor Rigby; All You Need Is Love; The Beatles
Tonight, Tonight; Smashing Pumpkins
Sheena Is a Punk Rocker, Ramones.
I'm going for similar sounds, and themes with that play-list. I need to come up with an order, if I'm sincere about it. that's just a start; some songs prolly wouldn't make it. they are all excellent songs. *blinks*
okay, this update is done. roar. :D *twirls about in silly, comical manner* how can I feel so light-hearted with so much weighing in my mind?! wheee. . .I'm a pop sensation! I wanna twirl! *twirls some more* ah, life. . .what a wonderful blessing in disguise. but as sophia said: I always wondered why blessings wore disguises. If I were a blessing, I'd run around naked. :D *shakes his booty and dances to the music only he can hear*