419@309
date: 21 november 2004
time: 4:19 am
location: 309 randolph
please. for the love of whatever. just stop it. you are fine. you have to stop sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. yes, it’s easier to just let everything sit.
paranoia.
melancholy.
dementia.
but you have to get up, brush yourself off and force yourself to move on from this thing. no matter what the cost. no matter what it takes. stop thinking these are realistic expectations. stop numbing yourself to what’s going on around you. stop pretending to be so happy all the time and just let it out. allow yourself to cry if need be. but you can’t hold onto this anymore. onto him. for the sake of your sanity, for the sake of your future, for the sake of being able to function day to day, just let it go. if you don’t, you’ll never be happy. not moving on is suicide. by tiny, tiny increments. stop listening to that part of your brain that’s praying and hoping and wishing, nay even expecting some hollywood-type ending where everything ends up to way you want it to. come on. maybe that’s not even what you want. it’s just what you think you want. you’re not wanting it, you’re wanting what you expect it to be. what you’ve built up in your mind to be. you can’t go on like this. period. the worst part about it, though, is that you realize all of this. you recognize the need to move on. you understand that what you’re expecting is unrealistic because you’ve built it up in your head so much. and yet you keep torturing yourself. even now as you’re sitting here, thinking these thoughts, writing them down, you know you won’t even give it a chance. to see what life you be like without all of this. because you’re too scared. too scared of the possibilities. of the obstacles you might face. you’re used to dealing with this situation. you’re used to feeling these feelings, horrible and heartbreaking though they are. and the sick thing is you’re almost happy being unhappy. you’re comfortable in this specific situation because it’s familiar. but you sit and you think and you don’t know what you’re doing with your life. all you can think about is the people who you know won’t be a part of your future. it scares you that a day will come when this will have to end. you’ll be forced to be normal again. you don’t want to. that’s why you’re avoiding doing it now. because you know it’s going to hurt. more than you can imagine. but you’re only delaying the inevitable. and it’s going to hurt that much more later. and you wish so badly that you could be angry. but you’re so focused on this thing that will never be (just keep saying that, maybe you’ll actually start to believe it) that you see absolutely nothing else. why are you so stuck on this? why do you keep beating yourself up about it? you don’t know do you? because every time you think you’ve made some progress, you backslide. maybe that’s the thing. maybe it’s never actually gone away. because part of you doesn’t want it do. part of you, most of you, is scared out of your mind to get out of this rut and get back in the game. to reenter the world as everyone else knows it. to bypass the bullshit and get real. because every smile, every nice moment still makes you feel like floating. but the negative comments still hurt. the laughter at your expense still makes your heart ache. and you know, in your heart of hearts, that if you just erased the situation none of that would matter. but the thought of it kills you. makes your heart hurt. makes your mind reel. because this is your reality. it had been for a long time. and it’s not going to stop unless you make it stop. it’s just going to keep eating away at your heart, at you, until there’s nothing left. ugh. why can’t you just enjoy this for what it is? why does it have to be all or nothing? there has to be some explanation roaming around somewhere that will interpret the neurosis that caused this. because if there isn’t, you’re left with all, nothing, or this. this dark midpoint. a place where no one wants to be. on the edge of something real and at the same time on the edge of nothing. that concept of nothingness doesn’t make sense to you. there’s always something going on. always something plaguing you. forever something wrong. something out of place that you can’t put your finger on. you can’t stop writing. because if you do, you’ll be forced to face the reality of the decision you have placed before yourself. but really, how is any of this, you must ask yourself, more important that everything else in your life? do you really think that if things worked out the way they do in the soap opera of your mind that would make you happy? make everything ok? because it won’t. there will always be something wrong. something in the way. something that keeps you from living your life and being who you are. this isn’t healthy. it really isn’t. sitting and pining for something that has, on numerous occasions, clearly presented itself as an impossibility. you cannot, you musn’t, allow this to ruin you. case closed. the question is how far you must remove yourself from the situation before it stops controlling you. because it seems as though no matter how long you stay away, the second you come back to it, all those old feelings and attitudes and hangups and unrealistic expectations come right back. these expectations are based on nothing. it’s all based on this random change of someone else’s heart that’s so far out there. there’s a nine percent chance, if even that, of this happening and you just have to let go of that small percentage and move on. i don’t know why i bother. you aren’t listening. all you can think about is what’s going on the places where you’re not. where you’re not allowed for one reason or another. you can’t help but wonder why it is that you weren’t chosen. why you always seem to be left. why you are destined to sit in silence, alone. with only your mind to keep you company. and you blame it on yourself. you tell yourself that it’s because you aren’t good enough. that there is somehting fundamentally wrong with you as a person. maybe you’re too far gone to take care of this on your own. but there is truly, honestly, no one you can turn to about this. there is no one. you are on your own to complete a task that you cannot feasibly handle by yourself. perfect. this will have no end. but the truth of the matter is that you’re scared that the end of this is the beginning of something more painful and heartwrenching than this could ever hope to be. that there is no light at the end of the tunnel, only darkness. and you wonder when. you don’t need a time or a day or even a year. just a ballpark figure as to when this is going to stop. because at this moment you have this sinking feeling that it never will. that this is the one that got away and you will never get over it. years, even decades from now, you will look back at this with regret and wonder what could have been. at that point it will all seem so clear that you will think yourself an idiot for not being able to figure it out. not being able to get your mind around something that in the future will seem so simple.
time: 4:19 am
location: 309 randolph
please. for the love of whatever. just stop it. you are fine. you have to stop sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. yes, it’s easier to just let everything sit.
paranoia.
melancholy.
dementia.
but you have to get up, brush yourself off and force yourself to move on from this thing. no matter what the cost. no matter what it takes. stop thinking these are realistic expectations. stop numbing yourself to what’s going on around you. stop pretending to be so happy all the time and just let it out. allow yourself to cry if need be. but you can’t hold onto this anymore. onto him. for the sake of your sanity, for the sake of your future, for the sake of being able to function day to day, just let it go. if you don’t, you’ll never be happy. not moving on is suicide. by tiny, tiny increments. stop listening to that part of your brain that’s praying and hoping and wishing, nay even expecting some hollywood-type ending where everything ends up to way you want it to. come on. maybe that’s not even what you want. it’s just what you think you want. you’re not wanting it, you’re wanting what you expect it to be. what you’ve built up in your mind to be. you can’t go on like this. period. the worst part about it, though, is that you realize all of this. you recognize the need to move on. you understand that what you’re expecting is unrealistic because you’ve built it up in your head so much. and yet you keep torturing yourself. even now as you’re sitting here, thinking these thoughts, writing them down, you know you won’t even give it a chance. to see what life you be like without all of this. because you’re too scared. too scared of the possibilities. of the obstacles you might face. you’re used to dealing with this situation. you’re used to feeling these feelings, horrible and heartbreaking though they are. and the sick thing is you’re almost happy being unhappy. you’re comfortable in this specific situation because it’s familiar. but you sit and you think and you don’t know what you’re doing with your life. all you can think about is the people who you know won’t be a part of your future. it scares you that a day will come when this will have to end. you’ll be forced to be normal again. you don’t want to. that’s why you’re avoiding doing it now. because you know it’s going to hurt. more than you can imagine. but you’re only delaying the inevitable. and it’s going to hurt that much more later. and you wish so badly that you could be angry. but you’re so focused on this thing that will never be (just keep saying that, maybe you’ll actually start to believe it) that you see absolutely nothing else. why are you so stuck on this? why do you keep beating yourself up about it? you don’t know do you? because every time you think you’ve made some progress, you backslide. maybe that’s the thing. maybe it’s never actually gone away. because part of you doesn’t want it do. part of you, most of you, is scared out of your mind to get out of this rut and get back in the game. to reenter the world as everyone else knows it. to bypass the bullshit and get real. because every smile, every nice moment still makes you feel like floating. but the negative comments still hurt. the laughter at your expense still makes your heart ache. and you know, in your heart of hearts, that if you just erased the situation none of that would matter. but the thought of it kills you. makes your heart hurt. makes your mind reel. because this is your reality. it had been for a long time. and it’s not going to stop unless you make it stop. it’s just going to keep eating away at your heart, at you, until there’s nothing left. ugh. why can’t you just enjoy this for what it is? why does it have to be all or nothing? there has to be some explanation roaming around somewhere that will interpret the neurosis that caused this. because if there isn’t, you’re left with all, nothing, or this. this dark midpoint. a place where no one wants to be. on the edge of something real and at the same time on the edge of nothing. that concept of nothingness doesn’t make sense to you. there’s always something going on. always something plaguing you. forever something wrong. something out of place that you can’t put your finger on. you can’t stop writing. because if you do, you’ll be forced to face the reality of the decision you have placed before yourself. but really, how is any of this, you must ask yourself, more important that everything else in your life? do you really think that if things worked out the way they do in the soap opera of your mind that would make you happy? make everything ok? because it won’t. there will always be something wrong. something in the way. something that keeps you from living your life and being who you are. this isn’t healthy. it really isn’t. sitting and pining for something that has, on numerous occasions, clearly presented itself as an impossibility. you cannot, you musn’t, allow this to ruin you. case closed. the question is how far you must remove yourself from the situation before it stops controlling you. because it seems as though no matter how long you stay away, the second you come back to it, all those old feelings and attitudes and hangups and unrealistic expectations come right back. these expectations are based on nothing. it’s all based on this random change of someone else’s heart that’s so far out there. there’s a nine percent chance, if even that, of this happening and you just have to let go of that small percentage and move on. i don’t know why i bother. you aren’t listening. all you can think about is what’s going on the places where you’re not. where you’re not allowed for one reason or another. you can’t help but wonder why it is that you weren’t chosen. why you always seem to be left. why you are destined to sit in silence, alone. with only your mind to keep you company. and you blame it on yourself. you tell yourself that it’s because you aren’t good enough. that there is somehting fundamentally wrong with you as a person. maybe you’re too far gone to take care of this on your own. but there is truly, honestly, no one you can turn to about this. there is no one. you are on your own to complete a task that you cannot feasibly handle by yourself. perfect. this will have no end. but the truth of the matter is that you’re scared that the end of this is the beginning of something more painful and heartwrenching than this could ever hope to be. that there is no light at the end of the tunnel, only darkness. and you wonder when. you don’t need a time or a day or even a year. just a ballpark figure as to when this is going to stop. because at this moment you have this sinking feeling that it never will. that this is the one that got away and you will never get over it. years, even decades from now, you will look back at this with regret and wonder what could have been. at that point it will all seem so clear that you will think yourself an idiot for not being able to figure it out. not being able to get your mind around something that in the future will seem so simple.