A great deal about nothing
So we were up in Bio, getting no work done as usual, when SM and NN begins to talk about the past Forensics meet and um... their "activities" after/before/notduring said meet. First 25 or so minutes aside, SM eventually got to the truth circle part. You basically swear upon something holy or meaningful or alcoholic that you'll keep everything said to yourself, and then proceed to spill your guts. So the people involved all swore as best as the sober part of them could, all came up with subtantial lists of secrets. I said that I would never be able to do that. I said that I don't trust people, and that I can only think of a single secret that counts as a secret. Just one. And it barely even qualifies. SM thought for a while, and I think he was trying to think of something to pin me with. He came up with nothing and seeming kind of surprised, declares "Hey! I don't know anything about you!" -- or something to that effect. It's because I don't ever tell anyone anything, I realized. Little, insubstantial what-did-i-do-over-spring-break-type things, yes. But nothing that really separates casual acquaintances with friends. I don't think I have it in me to make true friendships- the kind that you see in movies, the kind that lasts a lifetime and then some. Since my first friends in elementary school, I've been digging myself deeper and deeper into this hole. It's a nice, warm, comfortable hole. But less and less light is shining through, and it takes more effort to peek out. But there's always a reason not to. Always. Even when I've been completely down, thinking that life isn't worth it and hating my parents while still knowing that I can't possibly do anything because it'll break their hearts... even then, I can't tell anyone, because it'll burden them with my problems. Too many times, and I become that whiny little kid that can't stand on her own, that leeches the energy off everyone around her and becomes an irritating, irrepressible burden. But I don't need to do that, to become that. I wait a while, think 'five years from now..', and things past. I survive. The momentary and completely selfish yearning to have someone to tell everything to, passes. Tomorrow comes, and I brush off a friendly IM, not having anything to say. I don't pick up the phone when it rings, partly from a early-trained habit, partly preferring silence over my mom's inevitable eavesdropping and interrogations. I shrink a little deeper into the hole, but still, I'm alright. I'm a little lonely sometimes, but it's my fault anyways- I have no initiative. I reject people for no reason. I judge people based on how I think they perceive me. I don't honestly give a damn about a lot of things, but become a coward and an idiot when I actually do. I'm selfish. I'm lazy. The list will go on a while, and it's all true. Truth, oh yeah. That's what I was thinking about when starting this entry. I haven't written anything personal in here previously, but I think I'm going to start. It's for a mass of reasons, but mostly because I miss writing in a diary and I think that I don't really care if others have access to its contents. They're probably each going to be as tedious and boring as this one (okay, admittedly, most of my previous entries were geared towards non-boringness. But I'd rather just spurt out what I'm thinking as I'm thinking it and not worry about making it readable. They'll be lj-cut with some sort of eye-bandage-necessary warning and set on friends-only. Just don't ever feel obligated to read if you don't care. Whee. :)