?

Log in

jdiam athrun
Posted on 2006.06.30 at 03:20
this is my 3:20 am confessional. the kind of shit you won't hear me say when it's light out, or when i've slept in a while, but the kind of shit i'm always thinking. i don't know about anyone else, but i'm always running two, three or four thought processes at a time. i can't focus one on thing, like counting sheep. that's why i can't sleep. i always feel like i've overslept when i'm waking up at two, three pm, but i realize the time i went to sleep, truly went to sleep... was always about three hours after i fell into bed.

three hours of nothing but trying not to think, and all i'm doing is thinking. these condensed moments of thought lead to all sorts of things, and i've always pushed them into the back of my mind because god, i need to sleep, i've got to be up tomorrow.

but right now, i felt compelled to get up, come on here and say it to no one, because you're not reading this, it's too damn long. you selfish asshole.

i was thinking right before i got up about the only person that ever gave me a chance. well, not the only person, but... i don't know, the only person i could actually be there with. i'm a filthy liar and an asshole, because there are a couple of other girls out there who gave me a chance, are still giving me a chance, but for extended periods of time, i just ignore them. i wonder frequently if they're really devoted to the thought of me. the truth is, i have no idea what i feel about these people. two people, really. one, now. i've lost contact with brittney, other than her phone number in my cell that i'm too hesitant to call. that's... a long story.

the other girl that isn't the girl i was thinking about right before i got up, her name's lisa. lisa might be reading this. i hope she is because she deserves to know everything i'm saying. i met lisa three years ago for two days and i can only remember parts of those days now. i remember i cared about her a lot and wanted to spend all my time with her. but she lives in new york, and new york is far away. we were only permitted these two days to express to each other how we felt. i'm pretty sure we said we loved each other, but by now i'm guessing both of us know that wasn't true. fucking fourteen year olds don't know what love is, nor do sixteen or seventeen year olds. nor does anyone, so who has the right to say it? i don't know.

i used that another time. no, i used it plenty of times amongst people i didn't know and didn't really care about. i tried to use love to hide the fact that i hate myself. i figured if i could convince myself i loved someone else, it wouldn't matter what i thought of myself.

but the time it hurt the most was when i said it to someone who knew i was lying to myself. she laughed. well, chuckled, and made a joke out of it. and that was the end of our relationship.

god damn, how i wish someone would have done that to me years ago.

leilla, could also be reading this. she's much more likely to be reading this than lisa, though i don't know that for sure. for maybe two weeks after leilla broke up with me, i was a wreck. i didn't really ever let her know, though it probably got through to her. she put it in such nice words, how could i be mad? it wasn't one of those break ups where i could spite her to null the pain. she broke up with me for the same reason she laughed at me, for part of the reason i hate myself. only half of me is ahead enough to have been dating a girl three years older than me.

i'm guessing a lot of this doesn't make much sense. then again, hell if i know right now.

it's 3:32 am. i've been typing for 12 minutes. are you bored yet?

anyway, like i said, half of me is older than i am. at least that's what i've always thought. because i grew up differently because i cannot see because i was born that way. i could chalk all of this up to fate, but i can also pinpoint every pivotal moment that makes me who i am right now.

the other half of me is still my age. we at sixteen, seventeen are at the point where we're fucking and drinking and saying we're in love. we can't live without these people who have continually wronged us and annoy us. we talk about rebellion and fucking the system while we smoke out of coke cans and we still do our fucking homework.

i've done all of that, i guess. well, besides the fucking.

i got up and started typing this because i was thinking about when i was with leilla. i chuckled aloud as i realized that was the only time in my recent life that i've ever truly felt happy. how sad it is... this dependency. i see it in my friends, too, though. there are only three things that make them complete: alcohol, weed, and women. at the time, with leilla, i'd only have dreamt of the latter. where am i now? this week, away from home, stuck in a room in a town house in timonium, i can say without shame i've craved a smoke once or twice. i'm not addicted to the drug, i'm addicted to the fact that it can take me away.

but how much longer can i really run? i've never been much of an athlete...

Comments:


Popetacular of the Bookwang Crusades
nachtgeist at 2006-06-30 13:28 (UTC) (Link)

In Terms Of Writers.

The problem with writers is that we train ourselfs to watch, to wait outside, to peek through keyholes in order to analyze How Things Work. Things happen around us and we find our heads in a tangle, working events into fantastic words that can take us (and maybe someone else if we're lucky) deeper into life, deeper into the experience.

...So we don't sleep at night and we wind up feeling empty, because we somehow sense that we HAVEN'T actually experienced anything, that we've spent our time in needless contemplation. And so we hate ourselves and then we turn that hate into words and overanalyze the emotion and fill our minds and bodies with it to the point that we are preoccupied with hate and self-loathing.

And when we realize that the self-loathing is useless, we hate ourselves even more and the words are useless and come out like Linkin Park vomited on a sheet of looseleaf.

At some point, the observer and participant within the writer have to reconcile. You have to balance your desire to be taken away so you can peep through keyholes and your burning desier to be a part of something greater than yourself. At some point you will realize that Life Happens, that overanalyzing it only depresses you, and sometimes simple phrases are the best.

I realize that my response is rambling and confusing and probably makes about as much sense as Swahili spoken with a heavy Chinese accent, but I'm going to let it stand.

Because I haven't been sleeping either.
 I fear that my tears may stain my petticoat.
endaemion at 2006-06-30 18:30 (UTC) (Link)
I know that you are very introverted, and you can think through exactly what is right and wrong with you, and everyone, and everything, and that's a very good skill. But it's not very good *for* you. I think you're a really great person, you're stronger than you think, you have a lot of skills, and you've got a wonderful personality.

But when you're depressed or too deep in your own thoughts it's very hard *not* to see yourself as ugly. But you're not. And when you're on the other side of this you'll wonder why you wasted so much time feeling helpless and wondering what was wrong with you.

I'm not trying to tell you you need to be on medication or be your therapist or something but if you are unhappy with yourself or your life there can always be change. If you hate your friends, forget them. You're in highschool there are loads of people, you're funny and likeable, and other people will see that. If you hate yourself, why? Make a list of what you want to be, and go for it.

I think that everyone has a core, and then a layer around that, the core is what they're really made of. Your core is strong and sensetive and sincere and nice, and the layer around that may be set on something you don't care for right now, but you can always change it. Don't go on hating your life, or your personality, or your friends. This is your world too, and everyone else can shut the hell up. It's ok to find happiness in other people, no one is made to be alone. Everyone has the power to do something really great with their lives, but we can all get caught up on things, and we all go through bad periods.

But it'll be ok, a lot of little things can build into one big thing and sometimes together all the thoughts in your head can seem to weigh a million pounds. There are ways to help yourself remember that none of those things matter. You are whole, and you're ok. All you need is a plan, to stick with what you want, and follow through. Everyone feels or has felt the way you do. Everyone has hated themselves. It takes courage and stamina to be yourself, inside and out, everday. Self-loathing won't help you do it. But everyday we wake up new people, and everyday is a chance to say 'I'm alive, and I'm not going to pretend this doesn't matter.' Do everything you want, and be everything you want so you'll have something to remember.

I still think you're one of those people who can do something so great everyone will know it. I hoped this helped you. Laura and I are doing something Saturday, it'd be really great if you could come along :)
(Anonymous) at 2006-06-30 19:11 (UTC) (Link)
i lied in bed far after the birds had woken up and my dad had gone for work. i move around a million times and a half looking for a position comfdortable enough to spend the next couple of hours in. it must have been 7 or 8 before i slept.

i'm still just waking up. sitting here in boxers and an undershirt on an empty stomach and dry mouth. i feel the need, though, to thank both of you.

della, hell, i haven't talked to you in too long, but you read tihs anyway. or enough to know what it is, in essence. what you said made me feel a lot better about these kinds of nights. on another note, i'm thinking seriously about going to WAC. did you go to graduation? my sister was #1.. she's all smart. but yeah, thanks. i really hope i see you around. will you be at otakon this year?

leilla, i don't really know what to say. i'm pretty sure you know that any amount of words from anyone else can only have a certain amount of effect on yourself. i could read it all any number of times and mull it over until i know it through and through, but the effect's the same. it's the fact that you said it, a lot more than the things you said, that matter to me.

so thanks, both of you.

as for saturday, i'd like to, but i'm in timonium until tuesday, and i'm pretty sure that's the other direction from your house, meaning the 20 minutes plus another 30-40. i don't think i'm worth that much driving ;p

(and i couldn't tell you how to get here if i tried)
Popetacular of the Bookwang Crusades
nachtgeist at 2006-06-30 23:40 (UTC) (Link)
The WAC is a beautiful place to be. It's changed my life in all sorts of good and awesome ways, and I guarantee you that you'll find your niche among the Writer's Union. They're all awesome people. I don't know you well, I'll admit, but from what I know of you, you'd be happy there.

...I didn't go to graduation. all of my lame-ass senior friends are becoming Super Seniors or just didn't walk. Your sister was #1? holy zombie jesus. That's pretty impressive.

Also, yes. I will be at 'con. I'll probably be in the LARP room the entire time, except for the rave. I'm meeting a couple other WAC folk there, so if you've made that decision, I can introduce you to them.
Previous Entry  Next Entry