if you're lonely you can talk to me
play it cool play it cool play it cool
i'm used to being the least serious, the most puzzling, and the most seriously puzzled. i like to hear people break. not in a hurtful way but an honest way. the statement that organically cracks their defenses and leads them to say something revealing. it could be some stupid factoid, an embarassing story, a passionate crackpot theory, or for that matter some philosophical stab. it's really satisfying. i'm always waiting . . . or maybe not. well, i don't know. i have the urge to spill myself all over people i find interesting. in a way, i do but i also still hold back a great deal. the detailed histories. in any friendship i'm overly ambitious to get to the point of shameless conversation. not that i'm a boy of many words, but either way, it's nice to have that. it's fun but sort of tedious going through the field tests with new people.
i can't remember where i read it, but someone said that most extroverts they knew claimed themselves to be introverts and vice versa. i've always claimed introversion (real word?). a large part of me is spent within myself and i think i can appreciate long silences more than most people i know, but i also can talk, loudly and frequently, and maintain good-great social grace given i'm in the right situation and state of mind. of course, half, if not most of what i say (aloud) is meaningless. a good 92% of my outer dialogue is comprised of silly, mocking voices throwing bad jokes around like bastard step children. most of the time, it's not something i say i'm proud of. at this exact moment in time, i feel i can appreciate my yapping. come to think of it, it may be integral to some balancing act of my personality. i do a lot of neurotic fretting, sussing, and brooding behind the curtains peppered with the occasional lucid, honest moments of 'actualization'.
it seems to be that the whole intro/extro/outro/retro bit is a load of rubbish.
everybody's always asking me about my love life. terrible phrase 'love life'. seems so dated and dried up. yesteryear's prunes for grandma june. any way, i can't blame them. i do think about it a lot and talk about it a lot. i'd like to assume that the general public does. at least to make me feel less pathetic. this aspect, among many others in my life, lead me to believe that i would have thrived in a different era. although i'd probably feel less guilt and anxiety in some romantic, art saturated setting, there would be a major trade off of comedy . . . and tragedy . . . and tragicomedy. tragicomedy, my game, my entire library of 'material'. instead of being [possibly] charmingly cheesy i'd probably just be cheesy. however, cheesiness could be construed as crafty and clever in this alternate historical context i'm constantly throwing myself towards. hmm . . .
so here it is. so far this girl is quiet but witty and above all, the thing i'm most consistently impressed with is how comfortably she carries herself. while i was a nervous wreck just asking if she wanted to hang out she was completely zen'd out. she's the one who called me with a plan all set up a few days later. after a few hours of hanging out at my apartment she was ricocheting rebuttles and knocking elbows with my roomates as if she'd been a regular fixture. her voice is really interesting and her speech hits shallow decibels, is sparse, but moves slowly in almost a sneaking manner. when she looks at me i'm really confused because it seems full of some untraceable intensity, while also posing as if some really fucking funny and clever inside joke is occurring that i should be clued in on but am not. it's really cool, but it's absurd attempting to 'read' anything from it. her humor mixes between childlike and sarcastic. maybe those aren't the best words for it, but either way, we're pretty much on the same page when it comes to yuks. she seems game for anything and doesn't plan on being successful ("i don't plan on being succesful" said with smirking confidence). those aspects alone are pretty admirable and somehow debunk any semblance of my own ballziness in my book. she seems just fine floating along with things, but she also a strong sense of ethics and beliefs without being overt about it. she dances even though she's clearly not a dancer when she hears music she likes. and she loves the beatles (maybe even deeper than i do), adores prince, and manages to erect gems from the indie-fodder of nowadays. she appreciates the die hards and artsy-farsty french films. she waited in 3 feet of snow in the middle of a snowstorm at a closed museum for me while i was 20 minutes late and didn't have a single breath of protest. and of course, she keeps her poems to herself with grave secrecy. that one just makes me laugh.
i don't know her so well, but this is what i've got so far. i don't want to make any stakes or claims yet, but this is good. it feels more . . . accurate . . . down-home . . . swell.
fucking christ! this is the worst goddamn timing! a certain ms. kate decided to message me (drunkenly, of course) at 3:30 in the morning (i really should have went to sleep instead of staying up on this piece of shit). i'm thrilled that she misses kissing me and glad to know that the demise of our silly little whatever came about from serious miscommunication that was i was completely in the dark about until now. fuck. i was happy being pissed off and well-removed from the situation. in fact, the possibility of us being functioning, real friends was even becoming null. and i was fine because i'd rationalized and analyzed the whole mess by now. i'm a pushover and i just got pushed over. i know it's not in me to be with her again, but it seems like she wants to do this again. i don't know. i never knew her as a friend, only as a girlfriend, so our natural mode of conversation is constantly skirting flirtations. even i feel comfortable talking to her like so. i could turn myself off and disappear. i've done it before. it's not exactly easy, but it's easier than explaining why you have to let someone down. i don't want to do that though. i've definitely hurt some people that way on a big and small scale. with some people i don't even know how to rectify the damage and have things come to an ok point. well, ok. i was a little worked up. i can be friends with her. we could have a damn good time. she's a fucking incredible song writer and riot to be around. i've just got to make sure that she knows that i can't be with her again and is cool with that. fuck. it sounds sort of easy . . . or not. temporary plan of action: she's an even bigger flake than i am (that's huuuuuuuge) so i'm going to wait it out until she actually drags my ass to hang out with her. if she does that, we can start working on something reasonable from there.
what the fuck. more of statement (with bite) than a question. i'm so tiiired. i've been wiped out for the past couple of days. i really shouldn't divulge this much honest detail of my life, but i was feeling loose. felt like flexing the drama muscles. i did keep some secrets though.