Please do. This hasn't been prepared. This hasn't been edited or proofread. This is pure unadultered NOW. Odds are it'll come out as a couple paragraphs of slobber. I couldn't possibly give less of a fuck.
I have been at Ramapo College of New Jersey for more than a month and more and more I wonder where the college experience is. What the hype is all about. I spend hours at a time sitting at the desk of my dorm room checking facebook for attention tossed my way from friends at other Universities. I pour over pictures of their drunken escapades, smiling faces, throngs of new friends. I read their walls and laugh as if I understand the inside jokes therein. I sit on AIM and hold online conversations with kids left behind, confidently comfortable in their high school situations. Perhaps this is because they're seriously satisfied with clique dynamics and the "mean girls microcosm". More likely they're counting the days until they too get to toss their caps into the air and join everyone else on the long trail to mediocrity. We expect to leave high school when we graduate. I didn't sign on for four more years of it.
Some of this is doubtlessly my own fault. For all my pretty wordplay I certainly would expect an element of maturity of myself which doesn't appear present. I still care too much about what people think. I'm still shy around girls and I still get my feelings hurt way to easily. Oh. And I still fucking hate myself. For all the aforementioned reasons. For my uncanny ability to always be around (cause?) all the goddamned drama. And then I drink. Maybe it's my suicide. More likely it's satisfaction to my desperate need to feel loved.
I left LiveJournal to symbolize an end to the self-loathing, girl chasing diary entries ripped from the pages of a fucking Chbosky novel. Old habits die hard.
What do I need? I can't even wrap my tongue, or in absense of an ear to listen, my keyboard around an appropriate articulation. I need so badly someone to love. Someone to send flowers to for no good reason. Someone to go on chilly autumn walks with. Someone to give my jacket to when she shivers. Someone to drink hot chocolate and count stars with, to sit in silence for hours... speaking nothing and saying everything. Someone to hug and hold. To watch smile and to watch glow.
Someone to write love songs about.
But the more I think about it, the more conclusive I am that I am so undeserving of that. Of that love.
Everything here is so fucking unstable. One day someone is pissed. The next the offending party, distraught with the effects of its actions, tosses and turns wondering how to make well. And then it's like... everything is hunky fucking dorey except the hole in my heart because I lost sleep over you and you never needed me half as much as I still need you.
No one knows what my problem is, least of all myself.
Bomb the fucking Blogosphere,
Mike
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Your situation is in a weird way similar to mine; I think half of the problem with college is getting involved. Ramapo needs you to get involved, needs you to drop your insecurities at the door, and jump in completely and unabashedly. I sit at my computer desk sometimes for hours at a time, like now, but I dont regret it, because I know if I just TRY I can find something to do. I'm just unashamedly lazy. I think half the battle out there is realizing that you have to go out and do it yourself--this is a part of growing up, perhaps. And I think its fair to say that we havent been given the whole truth about Ramapo, that it is a commuter school. But I know I never thought about that when I came here, because I knew I could go out and make the friends if I wanted to. You can to. Women, well, they come with time, like everything else. The thing is, unless you're willing to contort your personality to match someone close by, you need to widen your circle of friends and activities in order to make the girl happen. You have to go out there, network, schmooze, and then they will come. They will come because your world and some other girl's world just got smaller-and you happened to run into each other. I keep telling myself to join a club, to go out and do something, and I dont. One day I will, and that day is coming soon. Even with Pat and Anne throwing work at us, we can squeeze something else in right? Right.
Still here for you, man, even with my own crapload of stuff.
ok man I know how you feel so let me offer a remedy: me. Come on I am in the same shoes as you but thats what makes each of us great. Respectively we do pritty well on our own but together we can become a forse that none can stand against. What I am getting at is I really hope you consider RU with me. I think we could take that school by storm at least on some scale. For now keep your head up when I visit you will get a glimpse of what it could be. I know the ladies want you man they just dont know it yet and they are dumb for it. Go out there and be you and everything unfurl. Let it be man Let it be. You the best mofo.
Post a Comment