friends.
I find myself faced with a dilema. No, not typing out a journal entry with half a left thumb (okay, half a left thumb nail, but still). If my typing or spelling sucks for this entry, please excuse it. Anyway, My dilema is my friends.
I hear tell of fair weather friends... those ones who are only around when times are good. My problem seems to be exactly the opposite.
I seem to have made a close unit of friends who could give a fuck about me unless something is seriously wrong. I can't just ask someone who says they love me (and has said so for years) to come and see me because I'm lonely or sad or just need someone to talk to. I usually get the same question. "Are you okay?" If my answer is ANYTHING other than "no, I want to eat a bottle of Aleve, drink a bottle covered in Mr. Yuck stickers to wash it down, slit my wrists, tie a rope around my neck, and sit in a running car with a pipe from the exaust to my lips" then I spend the night alone. I've even tried saying "NO, I'm NOT alright. I can't explain it but I want you to be here... for me" and the response is almost always the same. "NO."
I like to think that, with life on the line, most of them would come running, but who the fuck really knows anymore? Why should I believe they'll be there for the REALLY HARD times when they're not even there for me in the rough times? I went 0 for 6 last night and fuck others feelings, I'm doing role call.
Kelli: The closest you've been to potsdam in months and you wouldn't come and see me. It strike me now that you have NEVER ONCE come to see me in all the years we've known each other. You have not been to my house, my dorm room, my apartment, over to knowles your freshmen year when I was around, or over to my apartment. You have a perfect record of not even stopping in to say hello and that is something that I suddenly find myself ashamed of.
Kristal: You keep telling me how much you care and how you'll always be there for me. You repeat "I love you mo mo" until I hate my own nick-name and yet you never show it. You not only have refused to come and see my apartment (much like my trailor) but you tend to ignore any hand I reach out to you. STILL I find myself telling you things as if you would really care, things SO FEW other people hear. You don't think so? 42144 Kristal. No one but you understand what that number is. Again, I am genuinly ashamed of myself.
Dana: What is to be said of my little Dana? Maybe, JUST MAYBE I should have been interested in fucking you, maybe then you'd have given me the time of day when I pleaded for you to come. Let it be said and known that you aren't fucking these boys, but you might as well. YOu at least pay genuine attention to them. The fact that you went to see that little piece of shit TWICE this summer while breaking the promise to come and see me makes me sick to my stomach. (And yes, you did promise. I even saved the AOL convo where you swore up and down you would soon. I also saved the convo where you said it would have to wait, but DEF. "AS SOON AS CAMP WAS OVER".)
Melissa Brown: You came once for me, and I'll never forget it. That being said, I don't think it should be excusable that there is no longer room in your life for me now that you are dating Chris (which I've been saying for years that you should!) You came for me once, and that is all I will say.
Jeni: I was foolish enough to believe you when you said things this summer. YOu said you wanted more, you said when I left your apartment "I have it now" (look at earlier journal posts), you said we'd get together again "real soon", and I believed it all. Yet you refuse to drive less than one mile to see me. Last time you came it was for five minutes so that I could give you flowers, and you never even got out of the car. Ashamed; disapointed; I don't know. I believed you.
Melissa Manchester: Another person who never saw the trailor (although you did at least try). You're yet to see my apartment, but then again I've only been here for THREE MONTHS! I visit you where you work. I send desperate e-mails. I try calling for you. I go over to Tony's apartment. I tell you how desperatly I want to see you. I try to find ways to tell you things I have known, experienced, wanted, and felt for years. I feel powerless against you. I have never felt about ANYONE the way I have felt and do feel about/against you. The other night I told you "fuck you Melissa" and I can't describe how it made me feel. It felt like I took a little piece of my heart and threw it at you. Maybe it hurt you when it hit you, but it's still a little piece of me which I'll never get back. Congrats, we just tied for second place. We both lose. I never thought I would say anything like that to you, and I never thought I would feel this badly with you or (partly) because of you. I really believed you'd always come for me. It's only across town after all. I believed you see through all the smoke and see I needed you.
Maybe it is none of their faults. Maybe I am too gulible.
I wonder which is better, to have fair weather friends or those only their in times of crisis. Don't get me wrong, I like that these people MIGHT be there to pick me up when I'm down, but I'd really appreciate someone there to catch me when I start to fall. I suppose the only comparison I can make is putting together a puzzle Vs. sweeping up a mess. The second one is much less time consuming and so much easier. Maybe that's what happens. Any thoughts?
I'm sure this post will cause a lot of reactions. Maybe some anger, hatred, hurt feelings, frustration, or just laughters at my lack of shoulders to lean on. IT may come to me as replies, it might come in e-mails (more likely), or it might come through AIM (most likely). Maybe it won't come to me at all, maybe it will dwelled upon or even ignored. Who knows. As always, replies are more than welcomed (especially if signed). I actually thought about turning off replies to this entry because I am genuinely a little afraid of whatmight be said, but I want to know and I'm not ashamed of any of it. Let's see what I get hit with.
Leaf by Leaf and page by page, Throw this book away.
All the sadness all the rage, Throw this book away.
Rip out the binding, tear the glue.
All of the grief we never ever knew...
We had it all along.
Now its smoke.
The things we've written in it never really happened.
All of the people come and gone never really lived.
All of the people have come have gone.
No one to forgive.
Smoke.
We will never write a new one.
There will not be a new one.
Here's an evening dark with shame...
Throw it on the fire.
All those times I took the blame...
Throw it on the fire.
Here's the time we didn't speak it seemed for years and years.
Here's a secret...
No one will ever know...
the reasons... for the tears.
They are smoke.
Where do all the secrets live?
They travel in the air.
You can smell them when they burn.
They travel.
Those who say the past is not dead
Stop and smell the smoke.
ANd still, in the end, there is ~ANd1~
I hear tell of fair weather friends... those ones who are only around when times are good. My problem seems to be exactly the opposite.
I seem to have made a close unit of friends who could give a fuck about me unless something is seriously wrong. I can't just ask someone who says they love me (and has said so for years) to come and see me because I'm lonely or sad or just need someone to talk to. I usually get the same question. "Are you okay?" If my answer is ANYTHING other than "no, I want to eat a bottle of Aleve, drink a bottle covered in Mr. Yuck stickers to wash it down, slit my wrists, tie a rope around my neck, and sit in a running car with a pipe from the exaust to my lips" then I spend the night alone. I've even tried saying "NO, I'm NOT alright. I can't explain it but I want you to be here... for me" and the response is almost always the same. "NO."
I like to think that, with life on the line, most of them would come running, but who the fuck really knows anymore? Why should I believe they'll be there for the REALLY HARD times when they're not even there for me in the rough times? I went 0 for 6 last night and fuck others feelings, I'm doing role call.
Kelli: The closest you've been to potsdam in months and you wouldn't come and see me. It strike me now that you have NEVER ONCE come to see me in all the years we've known each other. You have not been to my house, my dorm room, my apartment, over to knowles your freshmen year when I was around, or over to my apartment. You have a perfect record of not even stopping in to say hello and that is something that I suddenly find myself ashamed of.
Kristal: You keep telling me how much you care and how you'll always be there for me. You repeat "I love you mo mo" until I hate my own nick-name and yet you never show it. You not only have refused to come and see my apartment (much like my trailor) but you tend to ignore any hand I reach out to you. STILL I find myself telling you things as if you would really care, things SO FEW other people hear. You don't think so? 42144 Kristal. No one but you understand what that number is. Again, I am genuinly ashamed of myself.
Dana: What is to be said of my little Dana? Maybe, JUST MAYBE I should have been interested in fucking you, maybe then you'd have given me the time of day when I pleaded for you to come. Let it be said and known that you aren't fucking these boys, but you might as well. YOu at least pay genuine attention to them. The fact that you went to see that little piece of shit TWICE this summer while breaking the promise to come and see me makes me sick to my stomach. (And yes, you did promise. I even saved the AOL convo where you swore up and down you would soon. I also saved the convo where you said it would have to wait, but DEF. "AS SOON AS CAMP WAS OVER".)
Melissa Brown: You came once for me, and I'll never forget it. That being said, I don't think it should be excusable that there is no longer room in your life for me now that you are dating Chris (which I've been saying for years that you should!) You came for me once, and that is all I will say.
Jeni: I was foolish enough to believe you when you said things this summer. YOu said you wanted more, you said when I left your apartment "I have it now" (look at earlier journal posts), you said we'd get together again "real soon", and I believed it all. Yet you refuse to drive less than one mile to see me. Last time you came it was for five minutes so that I could give you flowers, and you never even got out of the car. Ashamed; disapointed; I don't know. I believed you.
Melissa Manchester: Another person who never saw the trailor (although you did at least try). You're yet to see my apartment, but then again I've only been here for THREE MONTHS! I visit you where you work. I send desperate e-mails. I try calling for you. I go over to Tony's apartment. I tell you how desperatly I want to see you. I try to find ways to tell you things I have known, experienced, wanted, and felt for years. I feel powerless against you. I have never felt about ANYONE the way I have felt and do feel about/against you. The other night I told you "fuck you Melissa" and I can't describe how it made me feel. It felt like I took a little piece of my heart and threw it at you. Maybe it hurt you when it hit you, but it's still a little piece of me which I'll never get back. Congrats, we just tied for second place. We both lose. I never thought I would say anything like that to you, and I never thought I would feel this badly with you or (partly) because of you. I really believed you'd always come for me. It's only across town after all. I believed you see through all the smoke and see I needed you.
Maybe it is none of their faults. Maybe I am too gulible.
I wonder which is better, to have fair weather friends or those only their in times of crisis. Don't get me wrong, I like that these people MIGHT be there to pick me up when I'm down, but I'd really appreciate someone there to catch me when I start to fall. I suppose the only comparison I can make is putting together a puzzle Vs. sweeping up a mess. The second one is much less time consuming and so much easier. Maybe that's what happens. Any thoughts?
I'm sure this post will cause a lot of reactions. Maybe some anger, hatred, hurt feelings, frustration, or just laughters at my lack of shoulders to lean on. IT may come to me as replies, it might come in e-mails (more likely), or it might come through AIM (most likely). Maybe it won't come to me at all, maybe it will dwelled upon or even ignored. Who knows. As always, replies are more than welcomed (especially if signed). I actually thought about turning off replies to this entry because I am genuinely a little afraid of whatmight be said, but I want to know and I'm not ashamed of any of it. Let's see what I get hit with.
Leaf by Leaf and page by page, Throw this book away.
All the sadness all the rage, Throw this book away.
Rip out the binding, tear the glue.
All of the grief we never ever knew...
We had it all along.
Now its smoke.
The things we've written in it never really happened.
All of the people come and gone never really lived.
All of the people have come have gone.
No one to forgive.
Smoke.
We will never write a new one.
There will not be a new one.
Here's an evening dark with shame...
Throw it on the fire.
All those times I took the blame...
Throw it on the fire.
Here's the time we didn't speak it seemed for years and years.
Here's a secret...
No one will ever know...
the reasons... for the tears.
They are smoke.
Where do all the secrets live?
They travel in the air.
You can smell them when they burn.
They travel.
Those who say the past is not dead
Stop and smell the smoke.
ANd still, in the end, there is ~ANd1~