Everything You Know Is Wrong...

Okay, I think... I think I'm a bit calmer now, and a bit more coherent. I just... I just have this huge, all-pervading feeling that the people I love the very most, and a few people very specifically, just hate my guts. I don't know what to do about it... they're so important to me. And, I mean, intellectually I know there's a chance I might be wrong, but... I just can't stop those thoughts. And I don't know what to do... I don't know how to make things right, there's just a sense that things never will be right... I've screwed up in some monumental way. Or, not even in a monumental way... it's little things. I can pin-point some of them exactly, and sometimes I just get a vague sense of them, a few words I shouldn't have said, or should have said, or... and I don't know how to fix things! I'm sorry! God, there I go again, I just can't stop just crying about it, because everything feels so... hopeless, you know? I feel like I'm dying... or withering, is more appropriate. And I've screwed up this weekend, and it should have been amazing, but I can't stop these feelings, and it just messes everything up...

I'm sorry, I'm just so sorry. I'll sleep... I just need to sleep for a long time.

Nothing is alright for me. Everyone hates me, I know it... it's my fault. Jodi definitely hates me, and Carrie does, and Molly... Lianne... All the people. All of them. This is horrible... I don't even know what to do. I just want to die. Kevin doesn't though. I know that at least... he gave me a talk in the car. He left, and I just started crying...I don't know what to do! I'm sorry, everyone, I'm so sorry... but the people most important to me in the world, I don't even know how to make things right...

None of this makes sense. Nothing makes sense anymore. I need help...

Jai Guru Deva, Om...

When did I forget how amazing it felt to make other people happy? When did I forget the pure, instinctual joy of singing, and of dancing? When did I forget to look at myself in the mirror and smile, at every available opportunity?

When did I lose my way so completely?

I don't know when, or why, and I do know that it will happen again, and probably soon.

But whatever light this is that has cut through my grey fog is so fucking beautiful.

Capture the Flag

Just got back from Capture the Flag a little while ago. It was incredible... There were definitely 1000 people there, I would say.

First, the bad: there were a lot of people who cheated, either sneakily or blatantly. With that many people, you'll always get some. There were a hell of a lot of really good, honest people as well though, and that made me quite happy.

We started off dividing up into teams by getting glowsticks from people who handed them out. Dad and I were on the Red team, and were on the North side of the area. Then the team leader gave us all his phone number (I was borrowing Mom's phone for the night), and after this we all took off to hide the flag!

...In the wrong direction! We quickly noticed this and began to run North as we were supposed to. I kept pace at the front with our team leader (Matt, by the way), and eventually we found a nice place to hide it... Queen and University, I believe it was.

5 defenders were picked, and the chalk outline was drawn... The rule was, you could only have five people defending your flag, and you couldn't be within 50 meters of it... You couldn't go within the chalk circle.

I had already lost Dad, so I took off running up to King, the centre no-man's land. There were large amounts of people on both sides at every crossing, waiting either to cross or nab the poor fool who actually decided to make the suicide run. Can you guess who that poor fool often was? My strategy didn't change much throughout the night... about 80% of the time, I would run across the road with a massive war cry, dodge the first line of defenders, and then run down the sidewalk (or, occasionally, the road), alternately screaming like a chicken with his head cut-off and shouting things such as "You'll never take me alive you rotten sons of bitches!" and "Oh God don't hurt me, I have a wife and children!" Often times I would lead a good 8 defenders away from their spots, and lead them all on a merry chase until finally I was run down and overcome by just the mass of people chasing me. I would then make the (usually) long walk back to my own side, and greet my fellow Red members who were both bemused at my strange tactics and impressed at how far I had made it. Then I'd do it all again.

After a while, I decided perhaps I should attempt something a little more subtle. But by this time the light had changed to green and I was already running full tilt towards the enemy line as though we were playing Red Rover. I deked around the first couple of guys, almost got struck by a passing cab (to be fair, I was completely in the middle of his lane), and... holy shit! There were stairs in front of me? I took a moment to ponder where they would lead me... this moment was the time I was hanging in the air as I had already thrown myself headlong down them (and I have a very painful blister from where my hand rubbed against the railing far too fast.)

I found myself in an underground walk area, with (long-closed) stores all around. Taking a moment to get my bearings, I quickly ran to a corner, crouched down and hid, whipped out my phone, and made two very important calls.

Call 1:
"Team Leader Matt here."
"Seven (seven was our code word). I'm in some sort of underground area. I'm pretty much on my own, no one is chasing me. I think I can do some good sneaking down here. Looks like I'm at around *a few streets I don't remember*. Any word on where the enemy flag is?"
"Yeah, we think it's around Union and Front, or something like that. You're deep in enemy territory Chris. Watch yourself."
"Pah, I am a leaf on the wind. Those fuckers couldn't catch a cold. Over and out."

Call 2:
"Yeah?"
"Daddy, I'm scared and I'm lost and I'm not sure where to go next."
"Where are you?"
"Underground somewhere. Also, I have to pee."
"Well, just let me... Oh shit! *sounds of running, phone goes dead*"
"*Whimper*."

From here I snuck around for a while. Eventually I surfaced, after hopping a few gates and going through a parking garage. I had no idea where the fuck I was. Being so turned around, I started to run east when I should have been going south, ran into an enemy patrol, lead them on a merry chase, got caught, and started to walk the opposite direction from where I was supposed to be going.

Anyway, I made it back to my own lines. I proceeded to pull the headlong rush a few times again, and then decided to go back to the underground passage. I walked across the street onto enemy territory and milled around with a few fellow red members who were under careful watch by the blue sentries. Cool as a fucking cucumber I began to stroll into enemy territory, right past a couple of blue guards, and no one suspected a damn thing. Walk like you know what you're doing, and no one will fuck with you. ...Until they realize what you're doing. "Hey, he's a Red!" they shouted, and I dived down the same set of stairs as last time. I had my bearings this time though, and I managed to sneak deep into enemy territory... coming out of an underground entrance right near their flag. I was in front of Jack Astor's, and the flag was across the street.

I jumped in with a crowd of non-players and walked carefully over to the spot where their flag was. Playing it cool will get you far... sometimes, subterfuge really is better than a suicide rush. There were blues all around, but they felt secure, so far into their own line. Suddenly, one spotted me, and with an "Oh fuck!" shout right in the middle of the well-dressed business men who had been my cover, I bolted towards their flag. There was no way I could grab it and then leave again, but I had to try.

Suddenly, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I couldn't tell what had happened... until I looked down and, lo and behold, the little chalk circle that was my freedom was two steps behind me. Those rotten bastards couldn't touch me! I turned around and gave an arrogant laugh to the Blue who had been chasing me. "You're boned now, fucker!" I shouted, and laughed manically.

Of course, it was then that I saw the 50 other fucking Blue guys who had also noticed my dash for the flag. They were quickly forming a circle around me, and my exits towards Red territory were completely cut off. It was then that I made my third call of the night.

Call 3:
"Matt here."
"Seven. Listen, Matt, I... I might have gotten myself into a bit of trouble."
"Oh Jeeze. Where are you, man."
"University and Wellington."
"Man, that's where their flag is!"
"...I know Matt. I know. Listen... I'm going to need some back-up. Please. And, you know, sooner rather than later."
"Where are you in relation to the flag?"
"Right on top of it."
"That's awesome! What's the problem?"
"There are about 100 Blues also right on top of it. You know that chalk circle?"
"...Shit. I'll see what we can do."

The phone clicked off, and I took another look around. There had to be at least 75 of them, all just waiting for me to try something. They looked mean. They looked angry.

I waited about 10 minutes, and my phone rang.

"Matt, tell me something good."
"Man, we're rushing the intersections as hard as we can... But they know you have it. And they know you're alone. We just can't get across, man."
"What about the Underground?"
"Security realized what we were doing. It's locked up tight, man. Listen, you had a good fucking run. That's the closest we've got to the flag thus far. I suggest you put it down and come on back... We'll get them again soon."
"...Is that an order, sir? Because..."
"...Give 'em hell, you brave son of a bitch."

I thought about calling my Father, but... I didn't want to show weakness in the face of the enemy. I didn't want them to see me cry. "Well Chris, this is a fine fucking mess you've gotten yourself in. You ain't gettin' out of this in one piece."

But I wasn't getting out of it without a fight, either. I grabbed the flagpole with both hands and I waved it back and forth a few times. The way the wind caught it... it was a sight I knew I wouldn't see again for a long time, and I wanted to savour it. But there was no time. I looked at those hungry, angry men, waiting to tear my throat out the moment I stepped beyond my chalky boundary, and I did the only thing I could think of...

I held the pole in front of me like a lance and I charged the fuckers.It went better than I would have thought. They were so surprised, and wisely feared for their own safety enough that the group I charged (the group that lay directly between me and my own flag) actually parted. I was running full tilt, and actually got through two rows of people and a good seven steps away before I was literally tackled from behind. I hit the pavement hard, but I clutched that damn flag until they tore it from my fingers. I lay on the cold ground for a moment, savouring my courageous defeat, and expected all manner of torture and brutality. At least a few kicks while I was down. But then a group of Blues actually hauled me onto my feet, brushed me off, patted me on the back, and escorted me back to my own line like a conquering hero. For a moment that night, I actually was one.

We never got as close to that flag again, and we went on to lose the match 2-0.

But God damn was it ever fun.

And I'll Drink Myself to Death Or At Least, I'll Drink Myself to Sleep...

A part of me drops its head asks why I cannot catch a break. A part of me shrugs and asks "what can you do?" A part of me looks at the sky and just mutters "fuck". A real, physical part raises a shaky hand and pops another codeine, my mouth dry, trying to summon up the spit to take it. I take it with a smile... because smiling through the pain is the best lie a man can pull off.

Those two things... my face turned to the sky, and that muttered word... those two things completely describe my feelings toward life lately. That exhaustion, or perhaps rather that exasperation, and more importantly that intense, unending loneliness that drives me further and further into searching for something that will at least numb the pain, if not help me defeat it. But everything eventually turns its back on me.

I just... I want to give someone that ultimate happiness, you know? Maybe I make people happy sometimes... but I want to give that happiness, that life-affirming joy, that can only come when you realize that there is someone out there who thinks the entire world of you. But... no one wants it from me. Everyone wants it from someone else. And I know that I can make people happy... against all odds, I made Jill happy. I am a good boyfriend. I am caring. I am considerate. I am romantic, and affectionate, and... I have some tragic, unnoticed-by-me flaw that makes me completely unsuitable for love. I am a disappointment to my Mother. I have slowly become more sick of myself as this wears on. I am unable to make *anyone* happy.

That's not only what I want. I want someone to love me. I want, very much, for someone to show me that I am worth something. Yeah, at the moment, I need someone else to prove that to me. I want someone else to choose me above all others. I mean, there are plenty of people who will say they do love me, and who really do, and I'm happy with that. But is there anyone who would do that? Who would pick me, above all others? Yes, I am selfish. I have come to terms with that.

The codeine doesn't work as well anymore. The alcohol just makes me angry. Together they make me hallucinate. But... maybe not this time. I will fix myself the perfect cocktail.

Sing it with me now boys and girls; Whiskey is my kind of lullaby...

Just Before You Go Insane...

Aw Jesus Christ... I have been subtly mean to Marianne, or she thinks I have, and I didn't even know it... And, now that I see her getting that feeling, I know she can't be the only one. I'm positive there are other people. This is absolutely the worst direction this day could've taken me... And it hasn't been a great one to begin with. I mean, people that I care about, a lot... I've been hurting. I only know one for sure, but the rest... Like, I'm not sure if people realize how important this is. Marianne tried to blow it off, because she was trying to be nice to me. But personal relationships, the subtle interchanges especially... it's so, so, so important to me. When people slight me, in just one of those subtle little ways... it resonates, I feel it, more than if they had just slapped me in the face. And for someone, or people, to think that I have been doing the same to them... it fills me with absolute terror, to be honest. I suddenly realize... here's where I thought I was, here's how I thought things were going, but in reality I've just been sabatoging everything! What do I do?

I do nothing. I crawl into a hole. To everyone, who I have been mean to subtly, and mean to openly, I am... so, so sorry. I am absolutely as much as ever an emotional wreck, now specifically and lately in general. Just when I need people the very most, I've probably been pushing everyone away... And you would all do well to abandon this 'ship (see, how I used the apostrophe there, to denote... fuck it, never mind) right the hell now. I am headed on a course... oh fuck that metaphor. It's not good, alright? I think the only place I am going at the moment is down, until eventually when I explode. In which manner this explosion will happen, whether it's me knifing someone, drowning in my bath water, or simply having a catastrophic emotional breakdown, there is not a one of us that can tell.

I will keep it together at school though. That is very important. I must keep up appearances... I hope, if this disaster isn't averted, that it happens here, at home, alone, and not surrounded by family... Lord knows I've wanted to beat those damn kids more than once in my life, but at least I can promise myself I never will.

Fuck, this entire thing has strayed from any original plan I had. Usually I plan entries out, at least loosely. Now I'm just cathartically hitting keys. Is there an option for this not to appear in everyone's friends lists? I don't want to make it private, that's not me. Aw fuck it, just skip over this whole thing. Of course, it's a moot point if you're down here already.

Alright, so... yeah, those are all the thoughts in my head. Which hurts, very much, I will add. Exact same migraine as yesterday. I think it's the changing air pressure. I hope I still have friends left when this is all over. And don't tell me I will, and don't spill any nonsense on the nature of friends sticking with you in bad times and whatnot. I've already thought of that rebuttal... and this isn't over yet. We've yet to see my full potential when it comes to ruining friendships. Just... duck and cover, people.

If this journal is nothing more than a chronicle of my rise and fall as a person, I hope to God that it at least makes a good story.

My Kind of Lullaby...

Alright... as much as I've been procrastinating and trying to avoid it, it occurs to me that an update would be kind of nice sometime. So... What's going on with me? Jeeze, what *is* going on with me? Well...

Montreal was awesome. Got to see Dave, got to meet the Chris who is not I, and found him to be exactly the kind of Chris I would like to be were I not already exactly the kind of Chris I want to be. Almost every one of the kids in Molson (Dave's Residence) were absolutely awesome... It's really swaying me towards going to McGill. We'll see... we'll see.

The concert was incredible. Philadelphia was not, and Greyhound can go suck a dick, but... I'm not upset at it, actually. It certainly was an adventure... or at least a damn good test of patience. We had such ridiculous runs of bad and then good luck... missing busses, busses being late, not having tickets to the concert, getting into the concert anyway, getting great seats and getting some sleep, not managing to die... That was all good. The concert itself... my God. The Dropkick Murphys were awesome, extremely awesome, and I actually went crowd-surfing for the last song in their set... But Flogging Molly man. They were... holy shit. Just awesome. I need to see them at every available opportunity now. The vibe in the two sets was subtly different, but in just such a way that... well, it was incredible. I fainted while I was in the crowd at one point, but I was so packed in (the littlest guy there) that I stayed afloat, as it were. They played pretty much every song I could've asked for too. Got a good shirt, got the Flogging Molly documentary, felt what it was like to actually be so tired that you want to die... Dave and I decided that we would never go that far to see a concert again, but... I think I would. Yeah... I would. I love adventures.

What else? There's school... Apparently Mother and I have to go in and speak to the Principal tomorrow, because they want to kick me out for being gone last week. Assholes. I'm super excited for Grade 9 Guitar... I have so many things that I want to learn how to play. It's going to be raaaaaaaad.

Things with a certain girl are... well, she's happy. That's good, right? We had an MSN conversation a few nights ago, while I was still in Montreal, and if I said it didn't hurt, I'd be lying, but if I said it hurt a lot, well that would be a lie as well. It was okay, because I was surrounded by friends (yeah... I was, wasn't I?) and alcohol and there was the promise of a wonderful night ahead... But when I got home today, and read her latest LJ entry, I broke into a sweat, my words caught in my throat... I was upset. It was very upsetting. But... what can you do, man? Roll with this punch... She's happy. That *is* good. I really do care about her, and thus I really am quite happy that she is happy. As for me... I'm just making it up as I go along.

Met some damn cool girls at McGill though.

Oh, man, saw a fight... was it last night? I guess it was. A bunch of guys outside a club... I immediately ran over, food still in my hand, to help break it up, and I saw the two guys on the ground fighting, and one guy above kicking one of the downed guys... and rage just boiled over in me for a moment. I wanted to kill him. I was going to kill him, and he never would have even seen his attacker before my thumbs would reach up and find the sockets of his eyes... and I stopped. And I turned around, and I ran to the nearest alley, and I began dry heaving onto the pavement. For one blinding moment of pure animal rage, I was the man I once had been, wild and terrifying, and some subconscious response was triggered, so strong that I felt sick to my stomach. I don't know how I managed to build up that last defense, but I am certainly glad. But for the rest of the night... I was gone. I shivered, and I stared at the ground, I didn't really speak, and I didn't really listen... because I was still there. It all was running through my mind, over and over... what I had seen, what I had done, and what I would have done... I was still there.

Next fight I see, I am breaking it up. I used to do it... Ireland changed me. I let myself slide back a bit, and now I pay the price. It's something to work on... I'm just damn impressed that my body cooked up its own little fall-back plan and didn't tell me about it.

Man, a whole long month of sobriety ahead of me. Did I tell you? I'm detoxing for a month... letting my body heal up a bit, let my mind get used to the idea that drinking is not something I *need* to do... because I have gotten way, way too comfortable with abusing alcohol and using it as a solution to my problems, one which really doesn't work as often as I would like. So, this month is really a test... and I'm torn. One part of me says I have to do this, to prove it to myself. One part of me says I do not have to do anything or prove anything to *anybody*, and I should do what I damn well please. So... this is going to be an interesting month.

So what's my emotional state as of recently? I've been pretty happy. I'm kind of depressed to be back in the grind... University life was fun, for a while. I'm lonely, I really am... I still feel like, just recently, I had this wonderful chance and then... it was gone. I'm still left with the memories and the vague imprints of those feelings... that happiness like no other, not necessarily better, but different. And better. I think that's my main problem these days... so, that considered, I'm doing damn well over here.

Remind me I need to go to the doctor for various things. Until then, vaya con amour, my dearest friends.

For They Say You Are Taking The Sunshine...

I was... so... close... to everything I wanted. I am... the comparison to Icarus seems perfect to me now. I just... I got, for a moment, what I wanted. And I enjoyed it too much. I flew too close to the sun... I invested, as always, my whole heart, exactly as Dad told me not to. I think I was falling in love. No, I can remember the feelings my heart made, the way she held my hand, the nervousness that accompanied each movement... I know I was. Which is why a lot of this is my fault. I had known the girl for a week... did I expect that she felt like I did? That she would just throw all her eggs in one basket? No. I damned the consequences, and these are them. Life tries to teach me caution, and I stubbornly resist. And in the end, I reap exactly what I sow.

I got caught up in thinking about the future. I imagined visiting her at university. I imagined all the things we'd do. I can't shake the feeling of how perfect she was. I mean, I can't imagine a girl who not only had so much in common with me, but actually managed to also be too pretty to be in my league, and intelligent enough that I questioned myself sometimes. That's the main problem here... I kind of forgot about any crush I had prior to her. Everyone else seems... dull. Forgive me, friends, but... it just seems that everyone is that little more boring now. Everything is that little more grey. Like, I know that I am going to survive. I will live, and laugh, and be happy another day. But the nagging, no, gnawing feeling is there that... I would have been happier. The laughs would have been that much more joyous. The happiness would have been that much sweeter. I... I never met a girl whose methods of hand holding so completely mirrored mine. Isn't that weird? It's little details like that that are destroying me right now. All the little things...

And the happiness we had. We were so happy! How can that have been wrong? I guess... I was happy. She can't have been as happy as I was. I was a fool to think she had been. I didn't pay enough attention to her. I... She says this is her fault. You guys will say that too, because you have more loyalty towards me than her. But don't you understand that I actually, honestly have many well reasoned points as to why this is my fault? A week. I was falling in love after a week. She never signed up for that. She just got unlucky.

I held it together, right up until the end. I took it like a champ. I guess it's because... I still hoped. I still thought, good old Chris could still sweep her off her feet. And the sad thing is? I still, in some dark recess of my mind, have some hope. That things will not work out for them, that I will be there, and I will have that second chance. But that hope... it brings me nothing but pain, because I know that it is stupid and false, and it's just the childish attempt of my mind to cling on to something happy. It's so pathetic to see, when the rest of my mind has already seen the abyss, and that one little part is still just trying... to hold... on...

But the rest of me has already seen the truth. I did break, in the end, and indeed I stand before you a broken man. The world seems a slightly smaller, darker place, and I seem slightly more alone, and distant. I become more jaded by the second, and that pains me as much as this. No amount of crying gets me past the fact that maybe, next time, I'll put a little less of my heart into things. That is the worst lesson of all.

But I Have Been Happy The Past Couple Days...

I've been... pretty damn happy for the past couple days. The past week, even. It's all pretty much the doing of one person too, and that's pretty remarkable in itself. Like, I seriously can't imagine a cooler girl... how does she manage to have so much in common with me? We decided we were twins before, and I'm sort of glad that's not true now...

Things are so uncertain too. I'm so self-doubting... I always assume she'll come to her senses at some point. It hasn't happened yet though... Of course, we're on a bit of a constricted time-frame here... She leaves for University soon. Two weeks? Something like that. What happens after that? I don't know, and that is so worrying. It's really up to her... and that worries me even more, because, in the end, I will let her make the decision, for better or for worse. Placing my trust in someone else is so scary, but... I can't think of a better person to give it to. Being young is so awesome...

So, there you go. An update on my life, as rare as that is. There's this girl, and she's the girl of my dreams. I don't know what's going to happen, but I am throwing myself headfirst (heartfirst, rather), not looking before I leap, and damning the consequences.

As a very wise man once said, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is."

I have had... A good night!

I played some tennis. Lost a lot. Not a good night for me. Swore profusely, kicked things, and got generally upset.

Met Marianne. I was already in such a bad mood, and Dave went to see who it was, and started talking to them, and I was like "Oh God, it's Marianne and her brother. Don't let it be Marianne and her brother... fuck." I barely said anything, because I was in such a bad mood, but did not want to betray that fact...

Consequently, I was very upset with how our first meeting went. Whatever.

I was pretty upset, more so than I had been before, but eventually I talked to Dave about it and immediately felt a little better. Things only got better from there.

We picked up Alex, had fun, went to see an old girl of Dave's (soul sucking experience), had fun, played tennis, had fun, walked around, had fun... dropped Alex off, had fun.

Came back to Dave's, grabbed some beers, and shot the shit. It was great, just talking, looking at the stars, and drinking. I'm going to miss those guys.

Came back inside, and was extremely happy that the internet was back on. Then I found out Marianne wasn't on, and I was extremely disappointed. Seriously, I went on the internet for two reasons, and this is the second.

So, no one important is on. I have to pee. Then we're stealing Josh's laptop, watching Hot Fuzz, and sleeping. Good plan, Stan, good plan. (Heh. Dave's clearing the bed as I type.)

There have been some notable exceptions. But overall... this day has been a good one.

(Addendum: I spelled two things wrong before Dave caught them. Damn.)

Just Give Me One More Try...

Alright. I think, first off, I need to apologize to some people, all the people who I was somewhat of an asshole to last night, and this morning as well. I think... yeah, you'll all probably be reading this, everyone who matters anyway, and that gives me a good opportunity to say... well, sorry. I'm going to explain here what I couldn't explain there, that being why I was being such a jerk, and whether or not my reasons are good enough is up for you to decide. But... sorry.

I actually started off having a really good night last night. Before everything fell apart, I was actually having a really, really good night. Everyone was wonderful. I think it was about the time that Kevin took his leave of absence that my night kind of dropped off. It's weird, you know? I have this huge motherly instinct... my greatest joy at a party is taking care of the people who need it. It makes me, on some base level, feel important, needed, loved. But sometimes... well, when other people are doing that instead of me, it upsets me greatly. I can't exactly explain it, you know? It's just... it's not exactly that I think they're stealing my thunder, though I will admit that in a way I am selfish like that, it's more... it's the feeling needed. Important. It feels like I should be the one to take care of my best mate, you know? He'd be doing the same for me. He *has* done the same for me. And when it's someone else, it's that feeling like... "shit. He doesn't really need me..." You know? And... I just started to feel kind of alone, unnecessary, unwanted.

When I came back to the group, my mood unfortunately did not abate. It's safe to say I was seeing the world in twos, and not because I was drunk either. Everywhere I looked, there was someone with someone else. Not exactly "with" someone else, it's not like most people were kissing or anything, but... you know what I mean. It was like everybody had paired off and I had missed that boat by a mile. My mind did a slight bit of exaggeration, I'm sure, but... there was that definite atmosphere that I was missing out on. That's when I really started to fall apart. I remember smashing a big stick into a tree over and over, trying to stab it. I remember trying to stick my foot in the fire to see if I could maybe burn it, but in the end I couldn't take the heat. I remember going down to the lake a wading in up to my knees, throwing rocks every once in a while in the hope that someone would get concerned and think I had fallen in. I distinctly remember stumbling down the road to the park, half mad from my wine, bawling my eyes out, then laughing in that self-deprecating tone that I absolutely *hate* taking with myself, and finally laying down by a tree and continuing my little crying jag. I thought maybe I would sleep there and wait for someone to come get me, and I actually passed out there for a good 15 minutes, before I realized that no one was going to come. No one had any idea I had left. This was my fault and no one else's of course, but it was depressing nevertheless, to say the least.

Anyway. I didn't have a good night. Despite the fact that the party was wonderful. It's sad that, in such a good atmosphere, friends and drink and fun, that I can still manage to get so depressed. I think that was the start of another good bout of depression though, I can definitely feel it coming on. Guys, I promise I'll be more fun next time.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go lie in bed and feel unwanted. God I can be pathetic sometimes.

(Addendum: I feel... moderately better.)

(Addendum: Alright, it was good to get that out. I feel a good deal better now.)

That's me. It is, right now, one of my favourite pictures of me that exists, right up there with every picture that exists of me dancing. That's me, doing a cartwheel, and poorly I may add. Which is weird... because normally, I do good cartwheels.

I have decided that a poorly done cartwheel is the most beautiful thing on earth. Why? Because, it's just so whimsical and childish and silly and free. Like, when you know you can do a cartwheel, it's like "Oh, yay, did a cartwheel. Whoopee." but when you know you can't do one, but you try anyway, it's like "Here I go! Tumble tumble fall! Now I am lying on the ground in the warm grass and it's summer and I love life."

It was Jodi, whom I love so very dearly, that made me realize this. I can just remember, the day that picture was taken... I was doing cartwheels, but I can do them, so it was nothing special. But Jodi was trying to do them, and failing, but she was still laughing, and having fun, and we were all laughing, and having fun, and it was a wonderful day. I guess I can just remember the look on her face, and the way that everyone felt... happy and young and free.

Actually, I've long had a theory that things are less fun the better you get. Like, singing is my main example: I know that I can't sing. So I can do it as loudly and freely as I wish. And I know it's bad! It's okay! I've always said that heart and enthusiasm can make up for any lack of talent. But someone who is good... they're constantly wondering "How do I stack up? Is my pitch good? Am I better than that person? Or that person?"

So... I guess what I'm saying is, don't be afraid to suck at stuff. In fact, be happy.

Now, how do I unlearn cartwheeling?

(Photo Credit to Dave)

I'm in Dublin now. The road was not as rocky as they say. That's a line from a song, for the record. I know a few songs with Dublin in them. In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty... That's Molly Malone. I have to go see her statue. And Oscar Wilde's. Where else shall I be going... St. James's Gate... Jameson Distillery... James Joyce Museum... But that's all tomorrow and Thursday. Tonight... the Temple Bar and surrounding area. Where is that quote about it... In July 2005, visiting American singer Aimee Mann described her shock at encountering "overflowing pubs, drunks, urine stains and pools of vomit". Heh, this is going to be awesome. I have more stories, stories of all kinds, but not the time to tell them at the moment. Also, gentlemen don't kiss and tell. Good stuff though. Taking more pictures tonight, I think. We'll see. I have not only aquired a bit of an Irish accent, which I am trying hard to stop (my Canadian accent in both a novelty and a way to make friends), but I've been very much attempting to not type with a bit of an accent as well (ye and daft and dodgy and blokes and dare and class and lairy and geezers and... slang stuff.)

Oh, Cato, I looooove Dr. Who. I avoided it because I didn't realize the backstory was so intricate and awesome. I'm on the third episode of the second season now... Man, I really, really came to like the Ninth Doctor. Where the Tenth one is whimiscal, the Ninth was just... manic. I liked him. I'm not sure about the Tenth yet. I think the Ninth will end up being my favourite. I've read about the other ones too. Thanks for burning it man... it's served me well.

Anyway, internet time is almost up. I'm going to go get unaccountably drunk and die. Bet you I get involved in a bar fight tonight. This is going to be wonderful!

Drink and Drink and Drink and Drink and Drink and Drink and Fight!

I am alive. I am well. It's 1:30, I'm over at Jayne's house. This will be a quick update... I have a few entries written up on my laptop, but... I'm not on my laptop. Eh, it'll come later, perhaps. I have a million pictures. Well, about 200 since I got here. Do you know that I don't have any photo-editing program on here? Jesus Christ Almighty, I can't even turn a picture black and white! Anyway.

Things I have done since I arrived:
Learned how to climb 4 different types of barbed-wire and other types of things meant to inhibit the climbing of things.
Talked down a bar-fight.
Been to 14 pubs (I have them all written down, and my thoughts on them.)
Fallen in love with Gin and Tonic.
Remembered my love for Guinness.
Met many, many friendly people.
Taken up smoking as a way of meeting people (it's lovely for it.)
Got so unaccountably drunk that I fell into a Belfast accent and met some women who would not believe that I was from Canada.
Made up a dashing story of who I am (writer), where I was born (Groomsport), where I've been (Paris, Berlin, etc.), where my Mother and Father were born (Belfast and Dublin, respectively), and the whole damn family history.
Made people believe said story.
Been hit.
Had a nice chat with the police.
Ran from the police.
etc.

Holy shit, it has been a great adventure so far. I keep a little journal on me that I have been writing things in (and it helps with the writer story), and you should see it. It always gets funnier the drunker I get. Here's one entry: "July 8th, 12:02: Alright, I am drunk. I can accept that. I've learned to accept that." (It reminds me of the Achewood where Ray is high: "That's Todd. I know him. I know Todd." In fact, read that comic: http://m.assetbar.com/achewood/uuabz9GRp)

Anyway, tea's ready. God I love tea. Jesus, look at that list. I'm not coming home guys. I love you all dearly, but I'm not going to make it back alive. I can accept that. I've learned to accept that.

Leaving On A Jet Plane...

We leave for the plane in a mere 50 minutes. This will, of course, be my last entry for a while. There are many people that I'm going to miss very much, and some that I'm going to miss terribly. But, I'm sure I'll find enough over there to keep me occupied, heh. Here's hoping I find some Irish girl and stay there for a month longer than is planned... if that were to happen, I would in the least break my internet fast so that I could tell you guys. But... we'll see what happens. I hope that things go well in my absence... not better than they were when I was here, but well enough. Here's hoping you each think of me at least once an hour. In fact, I curse you to think of me at least once an hour. Actually, no... don't think of me at all. Seriously, I dare you, try not to think of me at all. (It doesn't work. I mean, if I were to say "hey, don't think about your mother having sex. Keep it out of your mind"... Your mind naturally thinks about forgetting it, and then thinks about it. Ew.)

Anyway. I'll miss you guys. I love you. I really, really do. That's all that needs to be said.

I Wish That I Knew What I Know Now...

Just reading old blogs, from The Troubles and such. It's great fun. But, I think it is important for me to say... Holy shit. I am not now who I was then. I love the Christopher from then... he was a lot more innocent, a lot more naive... He was just a kid. I know why things happened how they happened... because he was just a kid, and he didn't know what he was doing. He learned, and he grew, and I am so much in debt to the man I once was. If I had never taken all the shit I did, if I had stood up for myself then... I wouldn't be who I am now. And that would just be disastrous.

There are a lot of qualities of his that I wish I still had, that I'm going to attempt to get back. I can see it today, that I've gotten... harder. I'm a little meaner. I'm more willing to make a mean comment, even just in jest. Like... "that's why nobody likes you." I never said that back in the day. I'm joking when I say it... but that's not really an excuse.

Of course, is that true? Was I nicer back then? Or was I more fake? Cato knew me back then, he's known me through all my changes... Wasn't I always manipulative? Yes, I was. Because that's one of my bad qualities that I'm not ashamed of. As a student of people, of how they work, what they do (a sociologist without the degree)... I don't fault myself for using that knowledge for personal gain once in a while. But... was I mean back then too? I don't call myself a mean person now... but am I? Am I still Mr. Nice Guy? It's weird, you know, that once I became a pacifist I became almost less at peace with the world... from physically cruel and mentally nice to the opposite. Then again... maybe I'm being too hard on myself. Myself then or myself now... or both. I'd like a second opinion here... I can't judge myself against others, because I'm too biased. Am I still a nice guy? A good person?

Either way, it's never a bad idea to strive to be better. So, there you have it. Remind me to be a nicer guy in the future.

Farewell

On June 25, 2007, Benoit, his wife Nancy Daus, and their son Daniel were found dead in their home at around 2:30 PM.

This is what wikipedia tells me, but I don't want to believe it. I found out about an hour ago, from my sister, who was watching the tribute they did for him, in place of the normal WWE programming. I will give the WWE that much... they do these things right. They canceled a huge three-hour event and replaced it with a three hour tribute to Chris Benoit. Just as they should.

I don't watch wrestling anymore. I don't really like it. But my sister does. And I did, as a kid. I grew up watching Chris "The Canadian Crippler" Benoit, alongside Brett Hart, Mankind, Steve Austin, Shawn Michaels, Edge...

I grew up watching Chris Benoit. And I feel hugely sad that he is gone, and I can't quite explain why... I mean, I stopped watching wrestling a long time ago. But... he was a part of my childhood. I still remember when he won the World Middleweight Title, and...

Ah, just watched the opening of the tribute (they are re-airing it)... And that montage... holy shit, there go the waterworks. He was a great, great man. I remember him, and Brett Hart, and Edge, because they were the Canadian guys, and no matter who was fighting, who was the heel, and who was the face, you always cheered for those Canadian guys. You just did.

I watched Edge's own talk about Chris, his little tribute, and I have to say I have a lot more respect for Edge now. You could tell he really loved the guy, as we all did... And there was one point, where Edge said "Whenever we got in the ring together, it was like two Canadian guys fighting over the last beer", and then he kind of gives a little chuckle, and then he just breaks down... and you can't help breaking down as well.

The media/police are saying things that I don't like. They are saying things... I can't even bring myself to repeat. Because they are *not* true. They cannot be.

He was a consummate professional. According to Edge, not a man in the locker room would have a single bad thing to say about Chris Benoit, and I can damn well believe it He was a phenomenal athlete, and was one of the hardest working men in the business... he was the kind of guy that would always give a good show, every single time. I think it was Edge who said... well, there are a lot of guys in the business who are in it for the money. We, as fans (and right now I will call myself a fan, despite the fact that I don't like wrestling anymore), know that. But Chris Benoit... he wrestled because he loved wrestling. He had a wonderful little boy, who would do Chris' warm-up stretches with him, who always came to watch his Father in a dress shirt and tie... who was as devoted to his Dad as his Dad was to him. He had a beautiful wife who had a successful wrestling career in her own right, as a manager and valet. A wife and son who loved him dearly, who he loved dearly. A great wrestler, a great father and husband, and a great man.

Rest in peace Chris, Nancy and Daniel. We loved you dearly. You will be missed.

Burn, Burn, Burn...

On some level, I suppose I respect her choice, to never talk to me again. But on every other level, I hate her for it.

She deserves to not feel pain every time she talks to me. I hurt her, I know that, and I wish it didn't have to turn out that way. I hurt her. And I'm sorry for that. She always knew I was sorry... But still, she's well within her rights to never speak to me again. And I guess the consequences of that won't really matter to her.

But there are consequences. I hate her for it. Desertion, to me... it is the highest crime. She should know that, and she should know why... And you can tell me that I'm clinging to the past, but what happened all those many years ago has shaped me, just a bit, and so those little quirks I have now I bear on a psychological, almost Freudian level. And I can't shake them. And so for this, I hate her. Abandonment... I cannot forgive it. I had resolved that no one would abandon me again... and so I guess, on some level, that's why I never really believed she was serious. I thought, if I gave her some time, she'd come back... because that's how it always happened, so long ago, right? But no. She's gone. And so my mind has alright lit her memory aflame, most of the good times, the happy times, are gone in a blaze... because if I remember that happy people, people who love me, might one day be gone for good, I'll never be able to love again. I'll go back to the times when I was a kid, a loner, and I kept people at arms length. And I will *not* go back to that hell again. No woman will make me go back there.

Jill hurt me. Jill hurt me fucking bad. But Jill never abandoned me. She stuck around, and sometimes it was more like a cancerous growth, but things got better, didn't they? And I forgave Jill. We didn't know what we were doing... we were just kids. But this calculated decision...

So, goodbye, alright?

Goodbye. I wish I could've remembered you fondly.

Wait Until The Dust Settles...

*Sigh* I went downtown with my last two waterbottles of wine, with the intention of drinking and finding something fun to do. I sat down by the lake, and drank with myself, and was happy. And then I got up... and walked around for a while... and started feeling more drunk... and suddenly realized that there was nothing for me to do but go home and be kinda drunk for the rest of the night.

And as soon as I got home Mom started bitching at me, and my mood just sunk lower and lower, until I was at the point where I was smacking my computer for being a little too slow, or a little too loud, or whatever I felt at the time. And I got to that point where I would be talking to people, or not talking to people... and someone would say something in such a way, or someone would not say something, or not respond in the way I wanted, or someone would not be online, or someone's blog would not say the things I wanted it to say...

And I came back to that old, selfish fantasy... where I could curl up in my bed, and blink my eyes, and a month would have gone past, or whatever time I wanted, and I wouldn't know it, but everyone else would, and I would walk into school, a triumphant hero (in my own mind at least), and everyone would be amazed, they would ask where I had been, tell me how much they had missed me, they had never realized it before but they never wanted me to go away again, and I would be reminded that there are people that love me, and I really am important to people, and to life in general.

And it's an urgent thing, I need this power *right* *now*, and I need to just be able to blink and pass this time... because by tomorrow, I won't want this. I'll be happy again tomorrow, I think, and I will love you all tomorrow, I think, and I'll probably even remember that I am also loved. So if I am to have my revenge for things not going as I want them to, I need to take it right now, because I am not a vengeful person. This power will be wasted on me by tomorrow.

Maybe I'll just have a nap.

Desert Us Not, We Are Between The Wars

Whew, alright. Perfect time to get on this... I kept meaning to sit down and write last night, and the night before, and the night... yeah. Anyway. It seems like my mind has some sort of pathological aversion to doing anything that it even considers work, even when that work is both not required and makes me happy. But, um... What did I want to talk about? Women, loneliness, drinking, and not moths. No motherfucking moths.

I decided a couple days ago that I'm pretty sure I'm swearing off hard liquor. It just does shit to my stomach... and then I'm just not having fun. I like my stomach. Actually, stomach pains are, to me, my least favourite pain... there's just so much that can go wrong down there. My lungs hurt, my asthma is bad. My ear hurts, maybe it's an infection. My head hurts, it's a headache. My stomach hurts, I'm probably bleeding internally and death is imminent. Or some shit like that. But anyway, I think I'm drinking straight-up wine now. It's tasty, cheap, and you get plenty. Yummm...

Well, that's the stuff on drinking. Moving on... *Sigh*. All I can do is sigh. I'm lonely. There's no doubt about that. There's no crippling depression, or anything like that, I just feel... sad about it all. I already kind of struck out with one girl, and by struck out I mean I found out she didn't have the same feelings as me, which was both completely expected and fairly upsetting. Ah well, these things happen. I just have bad luck. The girls I like are taken, or... I don't know. Whatever.

I do crave human contact though. More than anything, I think that's what I require to feel actually loved. A hug, a cuddle... the more contact the better. Not in a sexual way, but a loving way. I feel bad for those people who aren't really into that, hugging and such, because... no matter what, I always feel completely rejected. I know the person doesn't really want a hug, and they'll probably just feel uncomfortable, and then it'll just end up being awkward for both of us... I guess I'm always just assuming I'll win them over. I'm going to stop. I decided that right now... It's just better that way.

But I need contact. And I do wish that I had one person for whom that contact was a given. But... that's not just something you can just force to happen. It has to come on its own... If I try to force it, in the end I'll just be as unhappy as I was in my other relationships. I feel this intense passion, this... I don't know what it is. It's that feeling, you know, that it's me against the world, and I *will* survive. But at the same time, there's a melancholy feeling to it too. I want to run out to a party and drink and be drunk and sing songs, happy and sad, and to be happy and sad, all at once. To drink with that fierce conviction, throw it back like I'm going to drink my pain away, even though I know I'm really just playing Russian Roulette... To know that I'm going to end up both happier and sadder, or maybe just sadder... but to take that chance that maybe I'll be happier. I always, always have to take that chance... because there will come a day when it pays off, and all this will have been for something, not nothing.

One day.

We're On The Eve Of Destruction...

Thinking of the fact that every single person I see is a conscious, sentient being, each with their own thoughts and feelings and worries and desires... It absolutely blows my mind into a state where I have to suspend my thinking for a moment. I am so conscious of other people's feelings, things like that, that in order to live on a daily basis, especially lately, and not be affected by everything around me, just to survive and continue with my life, I have had to live so solipsistically, to forget about others for a moment and just try to get through things for myself, and to then think these thoughts and open myself back up, it just stuns me into silence.

The wedding was really, really nice. I drank far too much though, mostly because Mom told me I couldn't (and it was a free bar, and I was bored.) I started getting sad too, near the end I suppose, thinking mostly about women and happiness and the effect of one upon the other. And...

I just spoke a sentence that contained more swearing per letter than actual words. I'm lapsing into sarcasm and anger, and... I just had this really wierd, acute feeling, of... a blood vessel in my brain breaking, and red, red, red flowing all through my mind. Anger, it was. I realize that it's simply my drunk mind's way of showing visually that I feel a strange sort of melancholy anger, but it was an interesting image to be presented with. Raaaagggggeeeeee...

I'm sad, and... depressed, again, and I can't tell if this is the same strain as before, but maybe it is, and if so, that's not good. I have no one to be here to comfort me, and words can only go so far. But, nothing can get to me whilst I sleep. I guess I'll just head off to bed then. It seems, almost, fairly sad to go to bed in order to escape being sad though. Whatever.

Wedding was nice though.

But My Dreams Gave Me Away!

Really, really good night of mostly ska. Got punched in the back of the head, got decked in the mouth (and cut the inside of my cheek open), knife-handed some dick of a kid in the kidney for punching a girl in the back of the head (which I know from experience hurts a large amount, and will hurt even more tomorrow), watched Pez (drummer for the Heatskores) ruin said kid's life (aka launch him into the ground about as hard as a Pez-type figure could)... And that was just during the Flatliners.

I really don't like the violence in the pit, especially when I'm wearing bowling shoes with no traction, but yet I find it so incredibly fascinating. And it makes me feel really good when I help people up after they've been knocked down... There was this one poor girl who fell behind me, and no one helped her, and I spun around and grabbed her and lifted her, literally just as a boot smashed down where her head had been. She gave me a huge hug and then was gone into the crowd.

Huh, it occurs to me that that is the first time I've hit someone in anger since The Incident. I'm going to let it slide, due to the circumstances and the fact that it's the nature of the show. I'm going to try not to let that happen again. Hell, I don't even push in the pit when I'm able.

So, let's see... I love the STDs, very, very much. The Heatskores were incredible, as always (and their set was not as hard as some they've had). I really, really adore the Expos... There's just something about grooving out by yourself while everyone does the same that makes me happy... You're just dancing for yourself. No one else, just you. No bullshit pushing in the pit, no grudges because some guy hit you, accidentally or not, no worrying that your next step is going to send you flying into the crowd, and no having to make every attempt not to hit the poor girls skanking in front of you, never mind the fact that they're probably ten times tougher than you are. You're just dancing for the shared, communal love of being able to move in time (or not) to the beat. Ain't nothin' wrong with that.

It occurs to me that I made a vow this year... a vow that I would dance more. That I would be happier. That I would bring joy to all those around me. And I haven't been doing well at that lately. And the dancing part... that's where I've gotta start. Dancing heals the soul. And not just that, it... strengthens the soul. So I'm going to start today. Mark my words... the Christopher that used to dance, the Christopher that used to sing, and skip, and be happy... He's making a comeback. He's got a tough slog ahead of him... But he'll be back.

Time to dance. I'll save one for you.

Someday We'll Find It...

It's not fucking fair, alright? It's not fucking fair. I was really happy, just... an hour ago, perhaps. Everything was right with the world. It was going to be okay, you know? And in my head, I already had a blog written out. And then... I just hit this fucking wall of emotion, and I'm not even sure what triggered it, but I felt like I wanted to break down. All of a sudden I felt unloved, ignored, lonely... All that shit. With no cause, no cause at all! And worse... it was that numbness, you know? I couldn't feel the love, even though I know it's all there. Amber told me she loved me, like usual, but I couldn't feel a thing, only that sense of wanting to cry, and those vague tuggings of a deeper depression. I knew it to be true, in my mind, and in my heart, but I couldn't feel anything. I guess I'm not completely done with this. It's like... cresting a hill, to realize you've still got a good ride ahead of you. And I'm so up and down, over and over and over, it's times like these when "mood stabilizers" actually sound like a useful thing. I kind of want to see someone about all this, but my told me the other day... We can't afford it. I already have to get a job, the money from which will go directly into the "please don't shut off our fucking phone" fund. *Sigh*. Gah!

Oh, yeah, I've felt angry a lot more often lately too. I don't know if it's this added stress or what, but I have punched more walls in the last little while than in a long, long time.

I will say this though, the remnants of that other blog that I had written in my head... It is nice to know people care, and someone earlier made my day completely by coming out of nowhere and actually, honest-to-God caring, worrying even, about me. And that immediately made me feel about ten times better about myself. Sometimes... people are just really, really cool. So, thank you.

And now... I need to go to bed.

There's Nothing Out There...

I'm at the point where I don't like talking about this stuff because I hate sounding like a broken record. It's just... Jeeze. I'm even getting worried about myself now, you know? It's like... All these people love me, you know, and I know that... but it doesn't heal me, it doesn't make me feel better. It's like I can't feel it. What does that mean? Why hasn't this gone away yet? I always felt things so intensely, but it was always a cycle thing, you know? It was quick, it was disorienting, it was hard to deal with... but I got used to it, right? I had this terrible vision, laying on the couch... Of what if this was how it was going to end? It was like... a supernova. A boy, who felt things so intensely, until eventually he burned out. And he wasn't the same. And he was me, obviously. It seems stupid, but at the same time... what do I know of life? How do I know that that doesn't happen? If this goes on for much longer... I'm going to need a professional. I mean that too. But right now... I actually just need someone to hold me, for a while, and I need to cry all this out. So far, I know people love me, but I seem too far away from that. I need it right beside me, and maybe then, I'll feel it too.

Everyone, but especially Dave... Listen to "Little Birds" by Neutral Milk Hotel... Or, Jeff Mangum, rather. Read the story behind it, and then listen to it... Thanks to Dave letting me rip their CD, I've really gotten into them, and this song... My God. It's actually too intense emotionally for me right now.

Oh wow. Oh, wow. This is really bad, guys. I don't remember ever, ever having an emotional mix like this. I really, really, actually, honest-to-God, this isn't just me being cliched and crying for attention, hate my family, my life, and... okay, those two things, at the moment. I told them that too, just now. I have actually had an unbelievably bad run of luck in the last few days, and pile that on top of the fact that I've already been going through the worst bout of depression I can remember... I mean, this shit never lasts this long for me. It's been like two weeks. And, usually, I get depressed, but then a lot of the time when I'm depressed it's like an undercurrent, you know, but on the surface I can maintain an aura of happiness, because on the surface, I really am happy, you know? But today, walking by myself, downtown... I couldn't believe it, there was no happiness. I caught my reflection in a passing window and was forced to ask what had happened, what's happened to me? This is bad, guys, I'm actually at the point where I don't know what to do, it's not one of those "sleep it off, tomorrow is a new day sort of things", it's at the point where I can't do this myself anymore, I really almost want to ask for help, and I mean real help, but... I think I can last a little while longer, and try to salvage this myself. I cut myself, a little while ago, I alluded to it in one of my blogs, and I can't say it felt good, but for a moment I almost understood why those kids did it, you know? And a few minutes ago, I was just so overwhelmed, I almost did it again, right in front of my Mom, just so that she'd understand. Holy shit, that's not something I admit, let alone something I do, right? That is completely not me. I can't figure out if I should just erase that sentence and act like it never happened, like before, but... I've always been one for full disclosure. Won't happen again though, I don't think. But I'm at the end of my rope, I've tied my knot, I'm hangin' on, but I'm getting tired. I want to actually sleep, right now, I'm pretty tired, I took some night-time sinus medication, I should rest. Goodnight.

Say Goognight and Go...

I left drama night because I was so upset, all my Melba Toast is gone and I just realized it, I have heartburn that is so bad it seems to be digging a hole in my chest, my favourite girl in the world is not here to help me with my problems, and on top of it all, I have to retype every word in this blog 3 or 4 times before it makes any sense at all. I'm not having a good go of things at the moment, to be honest.

I had a great time earlier this evening, Kevin and I bought the most massive bottle of wine, and drank the entire thing... Seriously, we bought like a 60 of wine and drank it all. I am having such a hard time typing. We talked about shit, and I rarely feel closer to anyone than I do when I'm drunk with Kevin. We're... urgh, I can't even explain it, but we're really, really close, and especially when we drink.

And then we went to drama night together, and Dave had some really funny jokes at improv, and I had a good time. But... it slowly built up the whole time, and by the time improv was done, I just felt so lonely and depressed that I told Kev I was going to the washroom, then gathered my stuff from my locker and walked home.

I feel so much like that line from "We Used to Vacation" by The Cold War Kids... I want to listen to it, hold on... "But at the meetings I felt so empty..." And it's not just what he says, it's how he sings it... And I did, I felt so empty, I just couldn't sit there anymore, surrounded by people who did know what was going on...

There was a girl there, a girl I really, really like, and just seeing her made me upset too, because it seemed like she was just so... I don't know. It seemed like I could never approach her, like she was this girl that was just so out of my league...

My mind has not yet fixed itself, and this worries me. I'm sure it will happen...

I need a shower. I'm so drunk, and upset... I just wanted to cause myself some pain, I just... I don't know. I can't believe I left Kevin there. I hope he doesn't worry. I'm surprised at how well
I know the keyboard.

I'm lonely...

What If You Knew Her And...

I don't even know how to comment on the Virginia shootings... It's just that feeling, you know, of "what the fuck am I doing sitting here? kids are dying, man, kids are dying and I can't do a God damned thing." It's that feeling of powerlessness. Ohio by CSNY keeps running through my head, and I want to immortalize them in a poem, in a song, in something. But my creative juices have felt dry for so long. It reminds me of that amazing poem 110 Stories, about 9/11, and little snippets of news and things keeps running though my head, and I don't know why, but the one thing that keeps looping over and over and over is the one line, "they're saying the shooter killed himself." I want more information, I want to know what was wrong with him, because I don't want to hate him for what he did. The methodical... my God, I was always so thankful that no one had ever done it... like that... but then he did. And I keep telling myself, "my God, we have to do something"... But what can I do? What can we do?

It Takes More Than This To Make Sense Of The Day...

It's weird... I was just in this hyper, crazy high, both emotionally and physically, and it was awesome, I felt back to my old self again. And then... bam, I just crashed, not physically (because I'm posting a blog at 3 in the morning), but emotionally... I just took a complete fucking nose dive. I don't even really know what triggered it... I mean, I kind of do, but not really. I'm still just... depressed. And, as someone said today (about themselves, but it applies) lonely, and empty. I do feel empty... And it's great when I'm out with friends, distracted, and even at school, most of the time, I'm okay around people... but at home, it always comes back. And it's probably been like two weeks now... it's starting to get bad. I don't like this much at all. Someone told me today that I had seemed "off" lately, which as weird because I thought I was hiding it well, other than here, and then Amber agreed that I was a little off, and hell, I agree too. I gotta snap out of this. Can't think straight at 3 in the fucking morning though. Gotta get to bed...

And That's The Very Thing When You're Dealing With Me...

I've already started to get a hangover headache... So tonight is a good night for blogging. It has been... God, how do you even describe it? I want to say "it's been a shitty night", but there are so many ranges of shitty that that just doesn't do it justice. I mean, really shitty? Amazingly shitty? Impressively shitty? Ah, why quibble of small details. It's been a bad night, alright?

It's been a bad last little while, actually. Whenever I haven't been at school, except for a few notable exceptions, I've been really depressed about women lately. Just... It's one of those times when it seems like everyone has got someone but me, you know? It's just been one of those times. So, I've been pretty fucking down for like a week and a half. And tonight has just been like the crowning of all that, the confirmation that I'm not altogether completely crazy. I was at the bar with Tom, I ended up walking him home, I got home myself, started feeling down pretty fucking quickly, plus I was drunk... The first time I started to cry was when I got up to get some chocolate to make me feel better and I fell down, and out of just pure frustration I burst into tears, like a little fucking kid... I didn't really have a good cry though. I dragged myself back onto the couch, and sat down, and kept talking on MSN... And I was just feeling about as low as I could go, you know? So I made a gamble, a last-ditch attempt at wringing some good cheer out of the evening, in a completely unfair way... I asked Amber, if we lived closer, would we date?

And she said no, she didn't think so. She was really, really nice about it. She didn't even have to tell me the truth either, I mean I live so far away, it wouldn't really have mattered if she lied... But she told me the truth anyway, and holy Jesus fucking Christ, did it ever hurt. I was drunk, and so completely and totally fucking just overwhelmed by emotion, I did something completely stupid and uncharacteristic of me, and I'm not ashamed at all, because of the sheer enormity of what I felt. I mean, I had a fairly fucking big crush on her, right? I talk about her more than I talk about any other girl, and for good reason. She is so different, and so much better than most other girls I have ever met... And I haven't even seen her in... well, it's been many months. But anyway... I mean, she still loves me, and in fact she says she adores me, but she doesn't see things in that way... And, I mean, she's so incredible, she actually almost managed to do it without me feeling as though I was being essentially completely rejected.

But... not completely. It brought up the classic questions, "what's wrong with me", "what aren't I doing right", the normal shit. That's bad enough. Plus I was really angry at myself for being so ridiculously stupid in asking, to take such a risk with a friendship that is more dear to me than almost any other. I mean, what if I'm still thinking about this in a week, when I talk to her, and it makes me upset then too? It was really an incredibly stupid move. But it's done.

So tonight was pretty fucking rough. I haven't felt a grievous injury like that in a good, long while. It was such that I didn't even manage to get a good cry out of it, just some sporadic breaks, at the most ridiculous times too. In Ole Black 'n' Blue Eyes by the Fratellis, there was one lyric, sung in such a way... Or when Rebellion (Lies) by Arcade Fire came on, and I tried to sing to it, but my voice kept breaking, and the sound of that made me break down... Or just the way I threw down the dish towel in such a defeated way... Ergh. Bad shit.

So I hurt, physically, and emotionally, and I have an incredible headache now... I don't think I'm going to the morning tomorrow. I'll definitely be there for the afternoon though.

So... I need to sum things up for myself. I don't know if I talked about everything I wanted to talk about. Ummm... depressed, stupid question, nothing is Amber's fault, Amber is wonderful, Amber doesn't feel that way, grievous emotional injury that will take a while to heal, not going to school in the morning...

I think I'm taking a break from the internet. I think it's starting now. I can't decide if this will help my depression or make it worse. No internet for a while though, right? Well, no MSN, and probably not emails. No LJ. A few days in the least, a week optimally, more if necessary. I think that's all I wanted to cover. I should stop getting drunk on weekdays. I think it might happen more though. Free beer is always hard to turn down. We'll see though... I'm thinking about not coming out of my room and shutting myself up in there for days on end and losing weight and being tragic and having everyone worry about me. I mean, it won't happen, I don't have the patience, but it's an entertaining thought.

Anyway, I'm going to go sob into my blankets and drift off to sleep. That was supposed to sound overwrought and emo, yes, with just a hint of truth. Plllleeeeaaasssseeee let it be the sleep part.

Ciao.

Take The Skinheads Bowling...

Well, I'm in a much better mood today, obviously. I won't tell you to ignore all of what I said in that last post. Just... most of it. That's just how I work... Long, long periods where I love myself above all other people, and then a night/day where I thrash and drown in a mixed pool of self-loathing and self-pity. I don't think I'm a bad guy, at all, for what happened. The fact is, I made some mistakes, of course I did... If I did everything perfectly now, at this age, this point in my life, what would be the purpose of the next x number of years? I mean, seriously, mistakes shape us into who we are. Dealing with mistakes, whether gracefully or... well, through my methods, is as important as avoiding those mistakes in the first place.

So, yeah, I did some bad things. But I'm not exactly ashamed of them... because I'm proud of how I dealt with things, I did what I thought was best, and I'm happy with that. I know that not everyone will understand, and some people might think I made the wrong decision, or think less of me for it... but to me, I think it's usually safe to assume that all decisions are made with the best of intentions, for the best, because it's impossible to really, actually know someone's true motives, and I think they're usually benign. We all think we're doing what's best... and I know Maria would say that intentions don't matter for anything, and it's the end result that matters... but I've always disagreed with that. Intentions matter just as much. The nature of life is that decisions made have such a high chance of being screwed up, the end result perverted and mutated into something other than what we wanted. Life does not take into account our intentions, because life does not care one way or another whether we live or die, are happy or sad. But as human beings, we are not so fickle, we are not so callous... we *do* care about each other. So if life has no regard for our intentions, then we should. Because sometimes, when everything goes wrong, the shit hits the fan, and you're standing right in front of it... they're all we have to go on. They're all we have to remind ourselves that everybody fucks up... but no one wants to.

I love rants that I didn't even plan out. I think I had something of a purpose here... oh well, never mind. I'm back to being happy with life, and loving all people... last night, everything in the world just annoyed me, but I think that's gone now. There was some truth in what I said last night... and I wish I wasn't so God damned sensitive all the time, because it's really quite unfair to people. I'll take offense at the littlest, tiniest things... but I'll almost never actually say so. It just kind of festers there until eventually, hopefully, I completely forget about it. But sometimes I don't, and I'm just left with a vague memory of something mean someone said, and that's not good for anyone. I remember the other night, something Rachel said, almost certainly jokingly, that hurt me... and I don't remember what it was, but I do remember it happened, and really, I'd rather just forget and ignore it entirely. Because she almost certainly meant no offense with it... but there's just one little part of my Mind that tells me that maybe, just maybe she did... it's stupid. I'd like to stop. But... what can you do?

Alright, done for now. Lookit that, two updates in two days! Are we beginning to see a trend here? Tune in tomorrow for... wait. I don't owe you people anything. I promise nothing!

Grow Up And Blow Away...

It has not been a good night. I had a great day, but the things that are good don't really need to be told. I don't know... I had a conversation with Maria. I had been really worried about her... I hadn't talked to her in a few days. Maybe it hadn't been a few days. It felt like it though. But, anyway, I talked to her... I guess I was in a more emotional state, and I had to think about things that I hadn't wanted to think about, and she said some things that really, really hurt, mostly without her meaning them to... And now I'm guilt-stricken, sobbing, with my head on the... couch. Fuck, I almost completed the lyric. Anyway, I did cry though, a lot, and then... Ergh, she left on such a low note, and I HATE that, I cannot stand a bad goodbye, because goodbyes are so important to me... She knows why. Not many people do, but she knows why. And when she left, I got so angry... Not at her, necessarily, but in general...

And when Amber came online, I had already started to withdraw into myself, beyond all help... My mind had taken over, and I hate that, when I retreat back inside myself, because I get so annoyed and mean and it just becomes impossible to help me. And Amber said some things that really needed saying, and I always feel so bad, because she's insightful, and honest, and knows what needs to be said... But sometimes, I think people, not specifically her, but in general, people underestimate how sensitive I am, all the time, and they don't have to take that into account, no, because it's not their problem... But, every bad word to me wounds me so deeply, it really does, and so Maria, you don't have to worry about this unconscious desire to see me hurt, because I'll almost never show you, but every single fucking word you say about how I failed you, or how I did things wrong, or anything else unkind, unflattering to me, every word of it cuts into my soul. Sometimes... I even forget myself how badly people can hurt me.

But anyway, I was talking about Amber, and got completely side-tracked, so none of that was aimed at her, I just left on a tangent... But anyway, every time she recognizes that I'm not such a great person, or says anything that could even be remotely construed as unkind, and it never is, but I immediately think it is... Or when I remind her of something bad... I don't know. It means ten times more, coming from her, it cuts ten times deeper. Which is not a fair burden to place on someone who never asked for that, especially someone who knows the truth when they see it...

I know that I failed Maria. I know that I fucked up, most definitely. And I had my reasons, and I hate the fact that, no matter how much people say they do, there are very few people who will understand those reasons. And, to the people that don't... I look like the bad guy here. Because I am the bad guy here, and I recognize that fact. But when other people do... It makes me angry to no end. And upset. And depressed. And all other things.

Everything makes me angry when I'm in this mood. I hate my writing, I hate this blog... I haven't explained myself correctly at all. I've made other people out to be the enemy, but it's all me, in the end. I'm not hard enough on myself, and then too hard. I can blame myself, but when other people blame me... I either go into defensive mode, or I sit back and just weakly take it, I fall silent, or just agree, over and over.

See, what was the purpose of that entire last paragraph? I should stop writing, and soon. I hate most of what I write anyway, and that's not my mood talking. I often wonder why people ever read this. I hate the fact that I'm not poetic. I love poetry, and I see poetry everywhere, but there is nothing poetic about my writing.

I had more to say too, but I've forgotten it all. I wish there was a way to show people that I'm sensitive, and prone to great pain at harsh words, even in jest, without seeming like a whiny little girl. And I wish I was the person I want everyone to think I am. I don't know... better. And I hate the fact that people are going to tell me I really am an alright guy, because the jig is up, I don't fucking believe you, and your pity isn't really pity, it's sympathy, but it all seems like pity to me right now. Tomorrow, maybe, I'll be grateful that people care. But right now, it annoys the hell out of me.

A Lesson Is Learned, But The Damage Is Irreversible

I'm not great today. In fact, you might say I'm... God, what am I? I'm really depressed, I'm really stressed out, I'm in a bad state altogether. I couldn't take it anymore, and so I sat down in the Chinese food place so that I could start pouring it all out. I'm out picking up job applications, despite the fact that it's freezing cold and I'm sick as hell. My Mother's idea, not mine. I hate the God damned cold. It's such a miserable day out... It's so fucking grey and dreary. I burst into tears while walking downtown, I'm so upset and stressed out. I... Fuck, food's ready. I will continue this in a moment...

...

Or in an hour. I'm home now, finally, and my cold-numbed digits, while still sluggish, are starting to warm up. Anyway, where was I? I don't know, I'm just... not doing so well. I'm really sick... feels like bronchitis again, or maybe just a bad chest cold. I can barely breathe though, which is only compounded by the fact that I'm out of my ventolin, the inhaler which I take in emergencies, when I start getting short of breath (i.e. around 4 times a day). That means, unless I have refills, I'm going to have to go sit in the fucking walk-in clinic all day. Oh well... Maybe they can do something for this fucking cough as well. It hurts to breathe, my chest is so tight. But... I'll get by.

I'm really, really fucking stressed out too, and I can't even talk about it, it's too sensitive... But I can't do it. Not now, no, no. I can't deal with that, it's so unexpected. Not now, or anytime even soon.

And... there's more. Not yet though... I'm going to hold off on that. I just sometimes have to ask myself... How do you get yourself into these situations? Why do I always open my mouth, speak too soon? I'll fix it, but... it's my fault. A lesson has been learned... but the damage is irreversible.

The Freshman loops over and over and over...

Growing Up In Spanish Harlem...

So, here I am. Last week was a rough week... Or, well, it seemed like it was a rough week, and it most certainly was, the opening salvo of it at least. But, I am constantly reminded of those lines in 5 Days in May by Blue Rodeo, the lines that have always stuck with me, through good times and bad, letting me know that things simply never stay bad for long...

Sometimes the world begins
To set you up on your feet again
And oh, it wipes the tears from your eyes...
How will you ever know
The way that circumstances go?
Always gonna hit you by surprise...

And indeed, the world did begin again, and it did wipe the tears from my eyes. And my God, was it ever a surprise.

I don't know how to tell the story, because there are a few distinct parts to it, things that I feel bad about, things that I should own up to, things that I want to justify... but I don't know how much of it is supposed to be told. I can only say I'm sorry to that one person, and that I never meant for things to go that way... He is probably my best friend, and the way that things happened... I wish it hadn't have been like that. It's just, we started talking, and we were so compatible, and... I knew you thought she was cool, but she had stressed to me that it was just a friends thing... And to be honest, I'll tell you something that I'm pretty sure I've only ever told one person before... I've always been jealous of you. You've always been better with women, you've always met more women... Hell, you've introduced me to half the girls I now call friends, I'm sure. Not to mention you get better marks, you're more driven, you have a hell of a lot more initiative... The fact was, I knew you thought she was cool, but I didn't know to what extent. I figured, you had your pick of all these girls... And she was so amazing, and so like me, that I couldn't just say "Well, I really like you, but..." Because the fact was, you pursuing her wouldn't have done any good. We can fight feelings... And to deny them like that is the worst thing we can do. Unrequited love is bad enough... But unrequited love on both sides? That borders on the ridiculous. So I figured, you have all these girls, or could have all these girls, that it wasn't such a bad thing for me to have just one that liked me. I didn't know what the consequences were going to be... So I'm sorry. This wasn't revenge, this wasn't spite, this wasn't willful... I just really, really, really like her.

Her... I've skipped far ahead of myself now, I'm introducing characters left right and centre with no clarifying dramatis personae. It came to pass that I started talking to this girl... This wonderful, beautiful, funny, intelligent girl. Of course I liked her. How could I not? And, wonder of wonders, she liked me too! I was absolutely spellbound by her... When she invited me to come to the movies, I could not refuse.

Maria.

Even just the name evokes images and feelings and words... But it's still so woefully inadequate. I don't know what to say about her without feeling like I've somehow let her down... It's just, she's... Everything others have not been. Honestly, upon describing her to people, they immediately say that she sounds perfect for me... And they're right! Look at a picture of her... Or, you know, do it over and over like I do. Isn't she beautiful? Well, want to hear the crazy part? She's actually more beautiful in person. I've never seen that happen... Someone who looks as wonderful as she does actually managing to top herself in person. I was actually struck upon walking in the door... I'm fairly amazed that I managed to not trip over my tongue, let alone talk to her. And she's so much like me... she's cuddly and soft, and she likes anime, and video games, and philosophy, and... Ah!

It's weird, you know? With Jill, things were always so tumultuous that in the back of my mind I was always wondering "Hm, when's this going to end?" And with Carolyn, I was having my doubts, and that ever present insecurity was always so strong... But with Maria, no. No. I don't even know... under what circumstances... no. I don't see why, soon, later, ever. Why? There is no good reason.

We watched Bridge to Terabithia, and I cried, hard, and she wiped my tears away... And it was then that I was pretty sure I had fallen in love with her. And I've told people this, she is the most amazing, beautiful, wonderful girl that I have ever been almost positive that I have fallen for harder than I ever have previous. And her friends sound wonderful, they sound like my kind of people, and there is so much out there for us, limitless possibilities... My heart just swells, races and pounds, whenever I think about it. I told her, not soon after we had met, that if she wasn't careful she'd probably give me a heart attack (damn high pulse)... Well, she's still doing it. If she ever wants to get rid of me, all the has to do is kiss me until I die... I don't think it would take that long.

Ha, I've already looked at bus schedules to Pickering.

What are we going to do with me?

(Also, she corrected my spelling and/or grammar on MSN once. How cool is that?)

(Guess what song my title is from and win a prize! I always did love that song.)

Memoirs of an Exile, or Lent's Lament, or Hello Blue Wednesday

I should be doing my homework, I suppose... That library assignment is sneering at me from the side of the desk, and it lies only half done, a true testament to my apathy... But, I can do homework any time. I don't want to lose the urge to blog... I want to get something down so I can prove that I'm not completely dead.

I shouldn't even really be on the computer... But I'm doing "homework". Thank God homework is good for something, if nothing other than for lying to my Mother.

I'm actually resisting listening to Cloud Cult because I think it might cheer me up a bit... I have to stay depressed so that I can write why I'm depressed. Temporary solutions will come later.

Of course, I'm not completely sure why... Well, I am, but I'm not, and I am. It's... Well, it's confusing. That's fairly obvious.

Part of it is the fact that I'm lonely... Of course I'm lonely. I'm usually lonely. But that's okay. It's just that... I don't know, I long to just be able to cuddle up with someone who loves me, who I love, or even... Just a mutual feeling of happiness, you know? I'm not asking for love. I want love, but I'm not asking for it. I just want to be... Curled up with my friends, watching movies. At Lee's curled up with Carrie, with Deanna beside me, and Dave and Claire close by... That was the most comfortable I've been in a long, long time. That is what I want, all the time.

It's weird, being single again, worrying again about girls. I decided, after I broke up with Carolyn, that I wasn't going to worry about girls for a while. Fat chance... That didn't last long. There are girls I like, that I'm scared to tell... There are girls I might like, that I'm scared to talk to... It's weird, to be scared again, because I thought for a moment that I had gotten past that, or had at least gained some semblance of courage, but I find myself again paralyzed by fear, convinced that it's probably just better to wait it out. Except... It's probably not.

I've been somewhat self-conscious lately. I've been cycling a lot, more than usual... I'm hitting highs and lows a lot more often these days, and a lot more intensely. I don't know why... And I like it and all, I always have, but it seems to me that it's almost getting to be too much now, you know? That I'm too weird, that I'm coming off too strong, that people are going to think that I'm simply playing a part, that I'm acting, that I'm trying to get people to like me, to remember me. And the thing is... of course I am. I am always secure in the knowledge that, love me, hate me or extremely annoyed by me (most should be), I will be damn hard to forget. But... Well, I'm worried about being annoying, you know? I'm worried that I've gotten too odd, too fast, and that people meeting me, or people who don't know me well enough, are going to be turned off by me, not give me a chance. And I want everyone to love me, y'know, every damn person... And I want them to give me half a chance to love them, and half a chance to prove myself. That's all I'll need.

I almost want a crisis, I want to prove that I am not nearly as useless and trivial as people might think... That I am cool under fire, that I can lead charismatically and with conviction, that when the chips are down you really can count on me, if at no other time than that. I long for chaos... But I always have. I just want some excitement.

I gave up masturbation for Lent. I'm also going to attempt to not shave for 40 days. I'm going to try the fast, too... I call it "Slimming Down for Jesus". Really, I'm just doing this out of respect to the J-man... The Sermon on the Mount is pretty much a perfect Humanist manifesto. Kind of. Minus the stuff about God. And religion. Also... I just wanna see if I can do it.

So, in summation: I don't want to be lonely. There are girls I like, but fear approaching. I am self-conscious, and worry that people don't or won't like me. I want respect. I want love.

I'm really good at being a teenager.

(Seriously though... These mood-swings have reached roller coaster-like proportions. It's... worrying.)

(Also, the title of this is a Vonnegut reference, in both style and something specific. See if you can catch it. (I sometimes forget that Vonnegut is probably one of my favourite human beings to ever walk this earth, and I will weep and drink in equal amounts when he leaves this earth. I want to see him speak. Remind me to mail him sometime.))

Voices of a Distant Star...

This shall be my last transmission for a while. I am grounded for two weeks, apparently... The details shall be given later. No computer, no going out, nothing.

Essentially, I am on the razor's edge of being kicked out, and even fucking closer to just walking out and seeing who will take me in. My Mom threatened to phone the cops on me tonight, and instead settled for calling my Dad and telling him she wanted me out of her house.

My sister proceeded to taunt me, and also lost my copy of Office Space, so I very nearly hit her about 5 minutes ago.

Now, I feel utterly alone, alone and cut off from the world...

I used to have a girlfriend to call, but then life fucked that up. Now all I have to do is sit, and wait.

I'm not sure what to do with this shaking rage though.

I will be going out tomorrow... Mom and I made an agreement, and she's going to fucking follow through on it. I don't care if she kicks me out for it... She made an agreement.

I get the feeling that everyone is going to drift away from me now... You know how you get that feeling? I have that feeling.

I'm certainly not the first kid to get grounded... I know it seems like I'm overreacting... But the thing is, I don't allow groundings, unless I think they're justified... And I don't think I did anything wrong. But, if I don't obey... I'm out. And I can't afford an apartment (oh, if I could...).

I had planned to write a real entry tonight too. Damn.I have to go... If I get caught on here, I am shanked.

And I already feel lonely...

Adios, amigos.

I Come Like Water...

I just left MSN because I can't concentrate enough to talk and write at the same time. I'm in one of my low states, my very low states... I'm on the verge of tears, to be honest, and it's weird... Because I really have nothing to be sad about. And being sad when you shouldn't be is the worst feeling of all... Because it is then that you realize that you're really at the mercy of a chemical imbalance in your brain, and there's nothing anyone can do. And at those moments, when you feel so isolated from everyone else... You are all alone. All alone, all alone, all alone...

It was weird, as I was talking to Jill tonight, and she gave what I felt was the first meaningful apology from her, the first real, actual justification for what had happened between us... I told her "I had never had anyone treat me so well, and then so terribly", and she told me that she still didn't know why she did it. And I told her, "You didn't know what you were doing. None of us knew what we were doing..." And that statement, which to me seemed terribly poetic, almost brought me to tears, and I don't know why. It's like that Don Henly song, "The Boys of Summer", the acoustic version, and the poignancy of his voice as he looks back on days he'll never change always chokes me up. I love poignancy, even when it's breaking my heart.

I decided to forgive Jill, because I can't carry that anger with me. I let karma have its run now... And I hope that one day she makes it up to someone, not me, but I hope that one day she and someone else find happiness, and I help her with a little part of that, even if it's only a memory of me that helps her along.

I've been really crazy lately. The last few days... My mania has progressed to the point where I was truly, honestly, bouncing-off-the-God-damned-walls manic. Literally. I blame it on the over-stimulation of being back with everyone at school. Actually, I don't completely blame it on that... It's almost like it's getting worse. Which is terribly exciting, to be honest... It feels like it's building up to a certain point. I've hit a low point in that cycle (I hate it when I call them that, because they're not cyclic at all, they're random), and the high I'm sure I'll hit tomorrow has me almost nervous with excitement. It's weird... If I build up to a certain point and explode, I hope I'm bouncing off the walls when I'm doing it.

I was weird out the Grade 11's who are in our Grade 12 English class today. I was having a good laugh, but inside, I was kind of questioning why I was doing it. Was it because I felt stir-crazy and trapped and needed something new to do? Yes. Was it because they are pretty cool people and I felt the need to be near them? Yes. Was it because they are new, and I want them to always know who I am, always be able to point me out, always remember me, if nothing more than that crazy guy in their English class, so that if I were to die tomorrow I might have a few more people to remember me? Convoluted, but a resounding yes. Like I always say... "If you can't be famous, be infamous." A horrible thing to live by, but I want people to know my name.

It was funny, I knew I was weirding them out... And Molly said that I was creepy, and it almost humbled me, because for a moment I was really, actually, honest-to-God worried about what she thought of me. Strange... I laugh at the Grade 11's. I go out of my way to make myself seem as strange and interesting as possible to them. Most of them. What makes me worried about what she thinks? Oh well, either way, creepy or not, she was being very nice to me today after she read my blog, so perhaps I'm not that weird.

I feel bad for Carolyn. I'm quite upset, so naturally I want to creep into my shell, because that's what I always did and always have done, and I don't know how to tell her that there's nothing she can do for me, because I would be mad if someone said that to me, and I know that it hurts her to hear me say that I jut don't want to talk... The last thing I want is to feel like a bad boyfriend again. I feel bad, as I've said to her, because she never knew what she was getting herself into... I am one weird, quirky, emotional guy. Not conventional in the least. And she had no idea. God have mercy on her.

"I come like water, and like the wind I go". I want to live by that creed. I want every minute to count, because you never know when I'm just going to get up and leave, walk away, get the hell out of Dodge, etc. I want every moment to have such poignancy (fucking overuse of words), I want every second to count, I want every goodbye to be the last. I took a test once, most likely way to die, and it said that I would wander off and never be seen again. I completely agreed. I find goodbyes so hard, because they always feel like the last, so I have a habit of not making them. I just leave. I'm sorry for that. Let's make every moment count... Let's make every goodbye a tearful one.

I want to curl up in bed and cry. Instead, I think I'll kick around the internet for a little while longer. And then? I make no promises either way.