Timothy

Jack's Twisted Kingdom
2012-02-13 20:54:19 (UTC)

shades of disappointment

sometimes it's hard to imagine how you end up in a place, or even a relationship. the ebb and flow of whatever winds carry you to and fro. for the longest time I used to think I was immune to flensing of those wicked barbs carried by most women I long for adoration from, that I was one who'd never feel the snapping of bones. it's taken a long time to realize, just how wrong I am. or was. or even will be. I guess it's just evolution of the soul, not mine, thiers, ours, tempus fugit, manet amor. I try to think of the point where it (they, them, me, I, you) went wrong, and I can't see it. blinded by my own melancholic haze, the gilded cage I've locked myself into, it probably was more, apparent to anyone else than it was (is) to me. I'd fight, but I've long since stopped doing that. can't. won't. lies. truth. ever evolving.

I've tried to avoid the drama I'm currently in over this living arrangement, and I realize that the more I distanced myself, the easier it was to get sucked into it. we kicked the wicked bitch of the east out, her coke habit and her coke head friends. of course, the fallout socially, on gordo's part will be much more than mine. simply because I don't traverse in those lanes, amongst the people who live the kink/goth/fetish lifestyle. they aren't my people. I just happen to live on the periphery of them. skating the edge. I've tried to immerse myself into the lifestyle only to find it sad, illusory, self destructive. I can jump off the rails and hit a brick wall fine on my own power. I don't need anyone else's help for that. these people, they're lost, out of touch with reality, unable to function outside of the confines to which they've chained themselves to. I get it. I understand the allure. but my drug of choice is far, far more enticing, enrapturing, and more hard core than any of these so called "extreme" flakes could ever indulge in.

I don't know whats going to happen. with my grandpapa. with my current living situation. with the very few friends I have left. if I have even that many. I might be deluding myself on that one. counting on two hands and both feet I mean. I wonder if I've that many on one hand. perhaps. perhaps not. I've noticed the malaise of which I live in has been suffocating me, I can't help but wonder if I've choked off everyone else. sometimes I think so. sometimes I don't care. selfish as it is.

I don't want to be here. I don't want to be out there. I don't want to be in the middle, or on the left, or the right. Home is literally where the heart is. whats sad is, I have no heart to call my own. I keep looking. but I have too much to change about myself to even know how to go looking. I disappoint myself. I am, disappointed in others. I wanted to ask a girl I know out, I haven't, oh, I've made overtures, but they're ignored, rebuked, glossed over. actually, there's been many times, and many girls, many women. no one takes me seriously. and the ones who do? don't care. I'd feel sorry for myself, but, I've no one to blame but myself. part of me cares too much. part of me doesn't at all. those blue/brown/green eyes, the long slender neck/cheek bones/legs, those lips, that hair, that smile, I want them all. I've wanted them all. at one point or another. still do.

I've 3 1/2 years to remake myself. I'm slowly finding myself done with the pity party, the wanting of things/people I can't have. I've accepted fate. I'm bitterly disappointed. I had hoped for ambrosia. I got flat mead. alas, poor yorick. heh. how I understand things so much clearly now. and yet, I know nothing. onwards and upwards. I can only hope I keep this. trudge. up the mountain going. long enough at least, to see something positive. it's leaving people behind thats always hard. but then I think of how often I've up and moved. it's not that hard. it's just before, it didn't matter. and now it does.