Codesmith

Life, Or Something Like It
2004-02-22 07:40:44 (UTC)

Rain falling over my face

It's 203am. The sky is a dark purple. Lots of flurries
around bringing snow at random. Not quite sure where they
came from. I have a feeling the temperature is around 0
celcius, perhaps.. 1 degrees.

This is the second entry I'm rewriting. My previous two
were killed accidentally. And ironically, I find myself
not knowing quite what to write, if at all. Perhaps I
should skip the introspective stage and just head to bed,
as most of everyone on my buddy list has done that. Either
intoxicated or exhausted.

I wrote Mel today. My email started about 22 hours ago,
around 4am, ... woke up at 9am. Not purposely to write the
email mind you. Rather, ... it just seems my body won't
sleep for more than a few hours. It's like I'm tense. But
I don't feel tense at all. It's just that I'm suffering
from all the symptons save the key sympton. Actually being
tense.

As I sit here and look at my ceiling, I find myself
drifting in thought to what Monday will hold for me. ... I
have half a mind to just not write anymore to Mel. I don't
feel that there's a future anymore. My thoughts and
concerns echo an audience of one. Myself. I have a feeling
she's out now having fun, or whatever she does on the
weekend. Am I really that important enough to her? I ..
don't know.

I know that I wasn't meaning to write for a few days, but
I can't seem to take myself away. I need an outlet. As
surely, Lisa is not the right outlet for any of my
release. In fact, she's never been very keen on listening
to me or hearing what I have to say. For that matter
giving me physical attention. The problems she experiences
I can fix so easily. And I try to. But she hardly ever
heeds my advice or listens to what I have to say. And when
she asks me why things happen the way they do, I just kind
of lose hope with each passing second she looks at me in
earnest, seeking an answer to her problems. But I can't
say anything, as I know it would never be listened to. And
so I found myself cycling like this on many occassions.
Observing someone wondering about why life happens the way
it is. I can see why it happens.

I wonder now. Am I doing the same thing?

Mel, wouldn't have been like that. She would have actually
listened and cared bout what I had to say. Course now,
it's all quite different. I guess that's what makes it
hard when you start back to another level in a
relationship. It's always hard to forget bout what you had
before, and make good with what you do have. That is to
say, this friendship arrangement feels like a downgrade.

It's sometimes enough for me to just give up. And I think
I have in a way. I don't think, I am going to be as
forthcoming as I use to be. Like Lisa, I don't think she's
interested. I mean, she didn't even unblock me from
Messenger. It's just going to be email correspondences,
forever it seems. I can't handle that.

And if that's all she wants then, it wouldn't bother her
if I left would it. No... I really don't think it would.

I feel like it's snowing again. And I'm standing in the
middle of a field, looking forlornly at the last place
where summer use to be. And even though it's been gone for
awhile, I still look on, in hopes that maybe she'll come
back to me. After awhile, you just sort of stop really
waiting, although you can't seem to get yourself to move.
Every second alone there, is like another second in
despair. That's how I feel right now. I feel like there's
no point in waiting anymore.

It's times like these I wish I was back on that island
home of mine. There is this kind of hillish area, where it
overlooks the ocean. Just sort of sit there, and look into
the deep maw of the ocean. Look down and see my own fate.
I could end it so fast.

It's funny how the things you know, always seem to
converge into a singular meaning. I mean, when I think of
seeking death, I can call to mind a variety of ways to end
it all, so to speak. Fast or quite slow. Painful or
painless. Any other human might make the incorrect
diagnosis that I am suicidal. The truth is, that I am just
very proficient. That's the problem with a true
perfectionist, they're going to try to do their best in
all things they undertake. That includes even
brainstorming suicidal actions.

I find myself in the position of advisor lately. It seems
quite a few of my friends are having relationship
problems. Since I'm pretty much single, I don't mind
helping at all. I just hope that my depressive state
doesn't interfere with what I perceive. Nah. It never
does. I am always objective.

I'm getting tired. I wonder if in the morning, I can have
a session. I just need to sleep with someone really bad.
Of course, not in a sexual sense. Rather just.. need a
bedmate. I think I'll page my therapist now.

I know I keep repeating this, but there is something about
her warm body on top of mine that makes me feel
comfortable and secure. It's way better than getting
drunk. The way she just kind of soothingly holds me till I
fall asleep.

I'm beginning to think human contact is not a necessity,
but rather... without it we're not quite complete. I think
we can survive without it but it would be like trying to
survive without something vital.. like, a quarter of our
brain. Sure, we can survive. But, there's always going to
be something missing. Something not quite right.




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