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My friend, my love, my best friend is going to go on a trip. When I asked her if she wanted me to go with her, I was serious. But she took it as me following her. Now, she wants someone to go with her. I want to go with her. I really do, but we're in this place where we don't really know how we feel about each other. Do I start saving now? Do I tell her that I'm serious? So I sit here, conflicted. Do I stay or do I go? This life is so paradoxical sometimes.
What happens when you tell something that is entirely fictitious? You get people.
You get a hold of them. You have control of what they understand for as long as you want.
You smell that?
If successful, you actually make people believe that on Halloween you saw a child covered in cornstarch, with tape on his mouth that said "ANTHRAX".
THEN you can tell them that you were shocked, horrified and that you gave him two chocolate bars because of his sheer audacity.
It’s all in how much you believe in yourself. Just don’t believe in the story.
Yesterday was interesting to say the least. It’s funny how just a change in scenery can change your outlook on your current queries. I sat there, at the Backroom, listening to fine hip-hop, with my friends. We weren’t there to pick up ladies, or to get absolutely shitfaced. It was just a chance to enjoy music we’d already be listening to at the house in an environment that WASN’T the house.
Next to me was a painting with the words, “And I realized that I had been dreaming all along” near the bottom.
It made me think about my life.
I thought about all the times that we have been in the bathroom together at a party or a club.
The times that I grabbed you and held you close as we kissed passionately, grinding against each other.
Needless to say, the idea of doing something while someone waits on the other side of the door is very thrilling.
Perhaps next time we find ourselves in that position, we'll take mutual advantage of the situation. You could hold me close, as I slowly undo the inhibitions that hold you back.
It would be a great fantasy to that with you.
Now I miss her, but not as a friend, but as a passionate human being.
I’ve seen that look in her eye, the sound of her breath, the taste of her flesh. And I miss it. I don’t miss it because I’m horny. I miss it because it was something that I knew that she only shared with me.
Now I am here, with plans for her, and me to go skating, climbing, celebrating. Wishing she was next to me in bed so I could kiss her goodnight.
She told me “This is not the time for us.”
life is nothing without certain things like the explanation of what things really mean, sorta like encryption, but without any knowledge of how to break the code.
So just go on day to day, wondering and realizing that there shouldn't be anything going on, but there still is that...essence of what things should be like.
Am I too late? Perhaps, but that's what you have to deal with when you set love free.
I don't care about how we act, the truth is, that we'll still talk to each other, and have that...essence, even though it'll be further away.
That's what we've become.
My birthday is in a few days. I'm not really too excited. I'm happy that I am the reason that my friends will celebrate, but some of my friends won't be able to be there.
Some have to work, while others have prior engagements. My friend, Paul (great guy!) has to work until 11 at his soon-to-be former employer, KFC AKA The house the Colonel built. My good friend, Dave (amongst the many Daves I know), and his girlfriend have to go see a barber shop quartet (family or something) in Spruce Grove.
It’s too bad when friends miss out.
Does she love me? I don't know. And I don't think she knows too. Did she ever love me? Why do I do this to myself? I just wished that my heart never got attached to her. Why? Then I wouldn't be crying everytime I thought about her. That would be better than anything, I think sometimes. Not having to think about her. Having that part of my heart separated from everything else I hold dear. I didn’t get respected back, and my feelings got hurt because of it. All I can do is write.
Friday night, and another night spent pining for people who aren’t here. I missed my Grampa a lot now. I miss his towering presence, his booming voice. His kindness. But those things will live in my heart forever. Turning all the pain and torture, I know that the memory of my Grampa will make me feel better when people who “love” me aren’t. You tell a person that you love them, then you dismiss it, stating it never happened. That’s fucking cruel. But you can’t change people, no matter how hard you try. I guess people don’t want to change.
I miss Saturdays when I was a kid. Waking up and reading the comics for hours and hours. Eating bowls upon bowls of cap’n crunch. Watching cartoons until 6 in the evening. I guess you don’t take advantage of those things when you’re younger. Hell, I’d like to go back 6 months ago, if I could. Then, maybe I wouldn’t be in the place where I currently find myself in. I wish I could hold her again. Just once. Just to know that she still cares for me a little. This is the worst feeling ever. Rejection that is.
There’s something to be said about those that you love and cherish in your life. Perhaps they mean more than others do. That’s how I think Kelly feels about me, that I’m not important to her anymore. That’s pretty hard to think, but when there’s so much out there telling you that you weren’t meant to be together, how can you not? I just wanted a friend who’d be there for me, in good times and bad. I wanted a friend who needed me during those times as well. Not someone who’s gonna throw me away when times get tough.
Remembrance Day means a lot more to people now than it ever did. A war wages in one of the most deadly places on earth. 5000 people get their lives snuffed out by two suicide hijackers. Dieselboy comes to Edmonton for all the massive junglists. A couple is split apart because of circumstances out of their control. Where’s the one thing I can count on in this life? Where’s the trust, intimacy, and love I seek? It isn’t with Kelly. I’m not showing any of that to my family. Perhaps Remembrance Day was created to justify our saddness?
Another Tuesday, another writing class. Man, I hope this pays off. Driving out to fucking Sherwood Park, racing against time, and against speed and red light cameras. All that just to listen to Frances blab on about how much she is scared about writing something that won’t make people feel good. Come on, where would Oliver Stone be if he decided that Conan the Barbarian should be a “feel-good” flick? Or turn Scarface into a happy musical about the dangers of coke? In the gutter, wishing he was a multi-millionaire that fucks playboy bunnies for sport.
Today at 4:20, it was really chill. Not a lot of people, just about four or five of us, chilling, listening to music, and watching Family Guy. I invited Eli and Beth to the party, and I hope they make it. My party at the backroom is going to be stellar. I must have invited over thirty people so far. But I only hope one person in particular comes. If they don’t, it’ll be a waste. Because why bother celebrating if the one person that means the most to you doesn’t show? I pray and hope she comes.
Tomorrow is my birthday, and I don’t feel special. I turn 24, and will start to lose my hair and my memory slowly but surely. At least, younger women will dig the fact that I’m older. But how much fun is that when they can’t even remember where they were when the Berlin Wall fell. I mean, come on! It’s only been eleven years! Anyways, I’ve been thinking about single life for a while, and how fun it actually is. There’s no need to worry about talking to other girls, or actually flirting with them. But there is still longing.
Today is my birthday, so lonely. My family life is being stretched. My lovelife has been nuked. I’m in shambles, even though I’ve been working out and, physically, I’m feeling awesome. Tonight, I’m entertaining my friends at my house, and treating them to a home cooked East Indian meal. Kelly will be there. Perhaps I can reintroduce her to my family, unlike that first time where we just hid in the basement and watched a movie. Do you want to know what my birthday wish is? I won’t tell you, but you may have a good idea after reading this.
This morning, after the bar, I went back to an apartment with Gemma, Eleni, Reagan, Paul, Peter, and Nijel. We spent the whole night tweaked and talked. I just sat there, losing my drunkenness, thinking about how much I missed you. Then, I thought about your phone call after you left me at the bar. Why would you ask me if I fooled around with anyone? Why did you tell me that I was a good boy because I didn’t? It’s evident that you don’t want me anymore, so why should I remain faithful to someone who doesn’t want me?
Coming back from the Harry Potter movie, given a letter by Kelly, thus giving me more confusion. Her note told me about the website she created for me/us. Herein lies my confusion, why would you make something so coupley and meaningful for someone whose heart you broke into a million pieces? Love? Affection? Faith in the fact that they are still “your friend?” Why can’t I get a straight feeling from her? Does she love me still? Then, why did she break up with me? There’s no reasoning behind it. If there is, I don’t have an explanation for it.
What a birthday weekend. I must say that it was easily the most emotional ones ever. There were times where I felt uncomfortable, unloved, confused, loved (even if it was temporarily), lonely, heartbroken, alone, jubilant, tired, wired, drunk, horny, and frustrated. Why can’t I just pick one emotion and stay in it? Why must I change? There’s no need to feel all those negative things, even if it isn’t your birthday. Yesterday, I woke up at the lesbian house with Carly in my arms. Even though throughout the whole night, I was thinking about Kelly. How brutal.
I talked to Carly yesterday. We’re pretty cool with what happened. Russ is moving back, and it looks like, if he’s up to it, that they’re getting back together.
It’s times like this that I wish I had a room in an apartment that I could call my own. My own private space where I could be myself. But there’s no chance of that happening here. I always said if I ever move out of my parent’s house, it won’t be to live here in Edmonton. That’s like cementing yourself further in limbo. Just being accepting of your own mediocrity.
Writing class again. Nothing I like more than writing stories about heartbreak and loneliness. Now, witness the pulling of the heartstrings of a torn man, his brain wracked by misery and confusion. Come; see the scribe whose muse leaves him in a shocking mess of worry and heartache. I hate some of the people in my class. Well, actually, I dislike one person in particular. She’s just so slow in getting to the point. It makes me feel like I’m in slow motion when she’s talking. Learn how to fucking get to the point, woman! Quit raping my time, CHRIST!
Today, I want something real, something that I can count on. No more heartbreak, no more using other people. Yesterday at 4:20, that Jen chick was there again making me feel all awkward with the style of nonchalant flirting. I mean she told me twice that she was interested in me. How do I say, “I think you’re a fucking freak of nature” in a room filled with 20 of your and her supposed friends? I can’t say that I have a girlfriend, since people here know that I’m, in fact, single again. The world of dating is a crock.
I hung out with Sian and Greg today. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. Greg’s working to become an electrician now, while Sian’s talents waste away at the second cup at MEC. He told me that he’s going to apply to the U of A for the after-degree Education program there. That’s good for him. While myself, on the other hand, is floundering around, not knowing where I stand career-wise, or with the people I care about.
I just want to have something that I can count on in my life besides myself.
Last night before I went to sleep, I thought about astral projection. In fact, I thought about astral planing myself into Kelly’s room. I thought myself standing next to her chesterfield, staring into the mirror, looking at myself. Then, I was next to her. She was in a curled ball, as usual, and I slipped in next to her. There’s no description of how it feels.
I envy the other people in my house on something that they probably take for granted. There is no joy greater than holding the one you love when sleeping.
I miss that the most.
Fallout, absolute and undeniable. I told Kelly about Carly today. That is, I told Kelly about Carly after spending the night with Kelly in a bed where she didn’t want anything to do with me. It took me about an hour and a half to get a hug out of her. I mean, she calls me, tells me where she is, then after basically telling me to piss off, phones me and invites me over to the place where she’s spending the night. There’s nothing right now that can change the way I feel. That is absolute and undeniable remorse.
I went and saw the most amazing movie EVER. Waking Life is one of those movies that make you stand up at the end of it and scream, “YES!” Richard Linklater is now a personal hero.
There’s a message about philosophy and the state of dreaming which really fascinated me. Actually, I was glad to see something so thought provoking. There’s been a rash of releases that have made me wonder about the state of cinema. But “Waking Life” made me feel as good as I did walking out of American Beauty, Fight Club, and Being John Malcovich combined. Yes.
My classmates like my story. They like the fact that there’s a horrible amount of tension in it. Well, actually, they like the setting for my story, which they find imaginative. I don’t see it that way. I see it was some sort of explanation for what’s going on in my life. There I am, floating, not wanting to remember what happened, and all I want to do is give up, because it’s been too long. I don’t want to start over. We’ve put too much time and effort into this just to abandon it. Don’t give up, yet.
I stayed up all night tonight typing out a presentation. But I mainly surfed the ‘net for more messages from you. It’s like we leave little clues all over the place, describing how we feel, and how much anger or frustration we have.
There are mean words, unforgettable lyrics, songs that may stick with us forever. These things aren’t permanent. But the pain is. All the memories that brought us pain are forever with us. We don’t remember them everyday, but they stick with us, and come back in a flood, sometimes at the most inopportune times. Sketched on meth.
So here I wait, waiting for the letter to tell me that I’m a piece of human scum. This could be a letter that could lie in my heart forever as the moment where I became less than an acquaintance to the one person that I care and respect more than anyone in the world could.
There’s something to be said about confusion and what kinds of things people do when all they get from someone is confusing statements. You get a phone call, and wonder what was meant by it. Was it supposed to be mean? Thoughtful? Jealousy unleashed?
There’s not much to be said than this. The person I love(d) hurt me. Confused me. Dismissed me to the extent that I went into the arms of another. I went there because I was hurt. The pain that she put in through after a year of being with her was, at that point, too much. I just wanted someone to love me, and now I was with another who loved me. Even though I knew it was temporary, it wasn’t what I was looking for. What I was looking for was sleeping in her bed, far away from me.
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