My mouth gapping open.

Status Report

Wearing: Ozzy shirt. You know, he made music back in the day. Blue boxers, black jeans, white socks, Tuggy.

WinAmp is Playing: Damage, Inc – Metallica

Last ate: Chicken and pizza?

Last round of masturbation: Tonight.

Entry Start Time: 12:58 AM

Based on Esther’s “Senses”.

I’m not your messiah.

There was a time when I had things to say. I felt like I could make a difference. That I had some insight that nobody else had. I see now that isn’t quite true. I see fine writing now and then on this site. Sometimes, I agree. Sometimes, I disagree. But, more and more, I find myself asking, “Should I even bother commenting?” All these little pearls of wisdom are MEANINGLESS. They are NOTHING. They are rhetoric. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

There is no truth, and I should stop acting like I’ve got some insight on it. I’ve said this before, I’m no more right than anybody else. I’m wrong, you’re wrong, we’re all fucking wrong.

And yet, I shouldn’t shut up. So what if people have heard it before? I see why Kivudet revels in illogic. Or convulted logic. Or, at least, I see my own motivation towards chaos. Order, clinging to human notions, things we’ve learned, things we think are true. Throw it all away and glue together random thoughts.

I hate being misunderstood. Yet, this is the name of the game. I hate it when people read entries and just seem to get it all wrong. I want to scream. I want to shout. I hate it when people read something very serious and assume I’m joking. Or the other way around. Human language is so inefficient in expressing ourselves. Talk, talk, talk, but am I ever being heard? Will anybody ever understand what I’m saying? Do I even understand myself?

What am I trying to say?

I am a loner at heart. I know this. When I feel lonely, I feel like the world has abandoned me. Poptart was right. It is not the world who has abandoned me. It is I who has abandoned the world. It is I who retracts from the masses and into myself. This online addiction. Filling a void? I’m tasting life with a false tongue.

Cycles, cycles. I always notice cycles. I gather people. Then I purge. I test and test and test. Who are my real friends? Few people I’ll give the benefit of the doubt and truely trust. What is trust? Knowing the other person won’t fuck you over when you give them the truth. Knowing there will be a response within certain parameters.

I seem to have a hard time letting go with people. I hold back. I hold back. I feel threatened for no reason. I feel fear. Why? Why am I so afraid of my own friends? I hide, perhaps from myself. Perhaps because only my friends can make me face my pain. Only they can make me face myself.

Nice sounding rhetoric.

If I really want to love, if I really want friends, if I really want to be something to somebody, I’ll have to let go. Perhaps it is all along that I give a fuck what they think, and I don’t want anything to go wrong. Perhaps simply because they’re my friends, they’ll tell me exactly what’s going on. And I won’t particularly want to hear it. Maybe I do enjoy yes-men. But, I recognize I can’t survive on it.

I feel alone. I feel like that spirit that guided me Junior Year is gone. As if it either died, or that blind youth has grown up. Maybe it’s simply the spotlight of writing in a public forum. There is a certain comfort in writing and knowing nobody will read it. But, there is another kind of openness when you bare your soul for complete strangers. Why can’t I do that for my own friends?

I reiterate, but do not take me literally. I recognize flaws, though they are not absolute.

And even though I say all this, I’m not sure. These words that come out of my mouth – or onto the screen, I suppose I should say – may not actually be what I’m feeling. May not be what I think. How do I feel? What do I really believe? Speak and speak, but nothing leaves my mouth.