- Monday, November 28, 2005 -- 09:12 a.m. -
The month is coming to an end. I figured that I wanted to add another entry before I archive. And I also wanted to write something. But I don't know what there is that I can write. There are so many thoughts flowing through my head right now. I can't even pick and choose what I want to talk about, however, the same two subjects keep coming up.
I've been told before that it's okay to rant and rave. But when you rant and rave about the same things over and over again, then you become a bother. Currently, there are only so many things bothering me. I end up ranting and raving about the same things over and over. I've nothing else to rave about.
My future is my top priority. But I really will admit that I know not what I plan to do with my life. Entering K-State is my only option and the only thing I've planned for. If it doesn't work, I don't even know whether or not I plan on trying again. I'm lost and I know it. I'm at a point in my life where I wish that time could stand still. I need more time to decide and I need more time to prepare. I also need... so much more.
My second rant has to do with the newest love interest of my non-existent love life. I can't seem to get my mind off of him and it's driving me insane. I'm not in love. I don't even know the meaning of being in love. I don't even think it's possible to be in love without reason, or without at least an acknowledgement by the other. It's just a crush, but it's going too far and I'm starting to get annoyed. Yet, I can't stop thinking about him.
Lastly, I worry about my family and my friends. I worry that things are not what they seem and I worry about nothing in particular. In fact, I really don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to this unprecedented worry about my family and my friends. Why am I so worried that it bothers me enough I can't sleep?
I've been recording thoughts in so many different places lately. I've been writing letters to my best friend and I've been writing in my manual journal that sits under my pillow. I've written so much about how I feel unsatisfied with my life, even though I have so much already.
My entries have been mainly about my newest crush and I wonder whether or not romance is the basis of my life, personally. Or do I maybe dwell because it's just easier to dwell on something that can be controlled? Or maybe I dwell because I continue to wonder about this certain aspect of my life.
I was told that personality counts for a lot more than looks when it comes to finding someone to be interested in you. On certain views, yes, that's very true. I, myself, am a personality person. Looks are just the front. But after that first impression, the personality becomes more evident.
I hate to admit to what Barbara says about me. I know that I'm too quiet for my own good. I know that I put up a wall when it comes to guys, and I know that I need to be more confident. But it's not like I completely turn antisocial on everyone I meet. I can get along with people just fine. I can smile and I can hold conversations and I don't have an eternal scowl.
Yes, maybe I like the idea of unrequited love. It's the excitement that entices me, but that doesn't mean that I like being alone either. The only reason I mope about it is because I want to know if anyone could ever really be interested in me. The only reason I mope is because, for twenty one years, I have spent wondering why no one has ever been interested in me. The only reason I mope is because my whole life has been spent watching all of my friends become attached to love in one way or another while I sit idly and waiting and wondering... and moping.
If anyone puts on a front to ward guys, I know that I'm not the only one. But for some odd reason, I've been singled out as the ultimate bitter prude. I don't chase guys away purposefully. If it happens, then there's a reason and it's not because I intimidate by being a bitch.
I am a very nice person. And this is probably the only immodest comment I will ever make about myself. I'm a nice person. But in the front, I attract no guys because I don't have what other girls have. I have no beauty, I have no sensuality, I have no means of allure, I have no intent to be outgoing, I have no body, I have no... I have no life of interest. I'm a boring mess. Guys aren't interested because I've got nothing going for me. Heck, I don't even have a very good hold on my future. My life is being wandered in confusion and I don't know where I'll end up going. I don't even know if I want to go where I'm going.
And last but not least, I'm also a mopey prude. Guys don't like mopey prudes. But how can I not be mopey when life hands me the means to be such? I've tried to happy tactic and I've tried to straight forward tactic. I fear extreme emotions. I fear rejection, I fear pain. I'm just an all around scaredy cat and I fear change. Even though I want to so badly to tell all about how I feel, it's just not something that should be done. It's not healthy either and I know it. But a personality can't be changed just because the problem has been established. I am still living in constant fear of change.
I've been rejected before and it hurts. I've been belittled before and it hurts as well. I've never felt heartbreak, and maybe that's the irrationality of my claims. Until I've been in love and have felt heartbreak, I shouldn't even think about being bitter about my non-existent love life. I have no right.
But what else can I do? I tend to dwell too long on things I shouldn't dwell on. I can't help that. I've spent twenty one years of my life wondering whether or not there's something wrong with me. All of my friends have experienced love and loss. All of the people around me, even through loss, at least won't have that hanging question as to whether or not there's something wrong. They've dated before, they've had a significant other. They won't question whether or not they are capable of finding someone. And I constantly wonder why it is that I've found no one.
But somehow, because I've had no one, I'm the lucky one. I guess I don't know how to describe what I'm really feeling. It's hard for even me to understand which is probably why it's so hard for everyone else to understand. I just want to know... is there something wrong with me? Would any guy ever be interested? Would any guy ever be attracted? Would I even get my chance to fall in love before my life comes to a screeching halt?
And why, oh why, do guys insist on wearing suffocatingly stinky perfume that they call cologne?
Okay, that last question was out of place, but there is this awful, awful smell wafting into my nostrils. It smells like what my big brother wears and it stinks and I don't like it, because it's so strong that it's actually giving me a headache.
But anyway...
I'm tired. I haven't been able to sleep for a long time and even though I know exactly why, I've been trying to make up other excuses for my insomnia. It's not working. I know why I haven't been able to sleep. I just don't know why that has to be the reason.
I'm so tired. I just can't think straight anymore.
- Wednesday, November 2, 2005 -- 12:11 p.m. -
I sometimes like to begin my entries with some sort of self and/or life revelating statement. It makes me feel spiritual and smart, and it also gives me a topic to focus on as well as connect my daily ranting with. In other words, I somehow justify my childish storytelling about overly dramatic situations with some sort of philosophical moment. Makes me feel important.
But today I'm going to be plain and simple. But, knowing me, it's hard to separate myself from trying to sound spiritual or all-knowing. So I may end up inserting a few of my own Ani-twisted philosophical arguments that are, well, debatable.
Now what did I want to say?
I didn't want to jump right into my rant of the day, my revelation for the day, or some silly thing that I did today. I wanted to give an introduction. And I've accomplished that.
I sat for nearly an hour today, eating ice cream, sitting outside of the student center. But ice cream had just been a false pretense, granted, it was a plus. My alterior motive, sadly, had been... well, sad. I conclude that I am no more than a pathetic little loser.
Why would I say this about myself? Well, because it's very true. For one, as I had described my fictionally created Ani, I am a self-proclaimed Mary Sue who lives on a much higher level of Nirvana than the common person. I see life on a much grander level. Love is just another part of life and not all that important when you look at the big picture.
At least, I was always supposed to be that particular self-proclaimed Mary Sue.
All I can think about these past few years of my life happens to be love and why I'm not a part of it. I develop a crush on someone and then I obsess. I dwell. I become so caught up in that stupid little crush that I can't concentrate on anything else. In the end, all of my thoughts come right back to this boy who I can't seem to stop thinking about.
And I tell myself to move on. I know what the end results are going to be. Why bother? And I tell myself, there are much more important things in life, in your life, right now. School, education, friends, family... a future career crisis that will forever leave me with those stupid "what ifs".
Life's too short to dwell on things that you know cannot ever possibly go forward. So you have to focus on those things that will go forward.
And yet, even with all of this information, all of this advice from my own mind, I end up where I am right now.
Ten minutes ago, I sat outside of the student center with a cup of ice cream in my hand, eating it slowly, biding my time. I was trying to decide whether or not I had the slightest inkling of what I was doing. And I decided that I didn't. I decided that my stupid excuses would not work. I had to admit to myself what I was doing, and somehow, I wasn't ashamed of it.
While other people slave away at unfinished homework due in the next thirty minutes, I sat and I waited. I waited for him, for my current crush, to show up where I know that he probably wouldn't just because I was waiting for him there. I tried to tell myself that he would show up eventually. His class began at eleven, and he took a Monday-Wednesday class. He would be out by noon or twelve fifteen at the latest. That was how Monday-Wednesday classes worked. So I waited. And he never showed up. But I hadn't outwaited my patience nor my own logical conscience. At twelved oh five, I got up and walked off. I didn't even bother to wait the extra ten minutes. I felt pathetic enough as it was. And I didn't want to face the fact that he would see me and wonder what I was doing where he probably normally wouldn't see me.
But this was all assuming that he would be in a place where he might not even be at at all. All assumption that he would actually be in THAT particular building and have THAT particular hour of class. For all I know, he may have seen through me already and purposefully told me the wrong times so I wouldn't end up looking for him.
A very simple, unbelievable, yet possible ploy.
And so I tell myself that I've already wasted an hour. I need to get to work. I need to go to the library. And I need to get a move on with my life.
But I won't listen. When have I ever listened? I know I should. I know that there's absolutely nothing wrong with falling in like with someone. But I also know that waiting outside of the assumed building he would be in just to see him walk out of it... I'm sure in some way, it's similar to stalking and it's illegal. And it makes me psychotic... more so than I already am, of course.
So I ask myself again: How pathetic can a person be?
And I can't answer that question.
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