*DISCLAIMER* This was a dream, only a dream that I had about being accused of murder. Nobody is dead, well, people die every day. But I have no first hand knowledge of any death. Again this was only a dream!!

So I just had a dream where my mother accused me of murder and nothing I did would make her change her mind. I'm sure it has more to do with the episode of Futurama I watched right before bed than anything else, but it was still scary. Eventually in the dream I watch the end of a movie and that proves to her that I didn't kill anyone. The bad part is, during most of the dream when I'm trying to convince her that I didn't kill anyone, I wasn't sure myself that I didn't.

That's always been an irrational fear of mine, especially living most alone. If I was accused of something, there's a good 14-16 hours a day that I don't have an alibi for. With everybody that America has in it's prisons, isn't it possible that some of them may actually be wrongfully accused? I just saw something on Court TV the other day where somebody was convicted and during his last statement to the court, he says "I just want to say again that I did not do it." But he sounds so defeated, he resigned himself to going to prison for something he didn't do. Of course then you run into the Double Jeopardy situation. So if you get of prison after being convicted of a murder you didn't commit and the person they say you killed is actually alive, then because the constitution says you can't be tried for the same crime twice then you run into the only situation where murder is legal.

Yeah that sounded really crazy, but I swear I'm not, it was just a line of though after a bad dream.

On a lighter note, for the first time since moving out on my own, I won't be alone for New Years. So I finally completed a resolution from two years ago. This years resolutions will be long and varied, so those will come in another post sometime after January 1st. Oh, and the late night talk shows are coming back. If that isn't a blessing in the new year, I don't know what is. Now I don't have to give a damn about the writer's strike as long as Entourage isn't affected in the Summer.

Another Christmas alone. What can I say? If I write what I want to, I'm boring; if I write what I feel, I'm redundant. I can talk about how my cousin tried to put my life in perspective by telling me about how bad her life was growing up, but all I felt was marginalized. Also, validated. Is it wrong to feel good when somebody opens up to you? Here they are, opening themselves up and telling me secrets from way back when, and all I can think about is how cool it is that they trust me.

Alas, back to being marginalized. Just because somebody's childhood was worse than mine doesn't mean that I don't have the right to feel bad about mine. Besides, she was always the popular one with all the friends, the Marsha Brady of the family. She seemed to have everything going for her, at least she got good grades and had a social life. The point is, because she wasn't repulsively ugly like I apparently am, she had things easier in life. Despite her troubled home life, she still had the advantage. The advantage of being a normal looking person in a shallow world. I would have taken on any of her disadvantages, just to be good looking.

If I were a good looking person, I would have had normal relationships. I would have had a social life in school, I would have dated and maybe married and maybe have a kid at this point in life. I know I'm only 22 and I've never had a steady girlfriend, but growing up I always thought I'd have a wife and kids by this point. Maybe it's becoming a weird obsession, I know I tend to be prone to those, but I would love to have a kid. We all know about the 18 year commitment, but I don't see that as a disadvantage to having a kid, it's a small sacrifice for passing on your genes. And that is my revelation tonight. Having kids is a sacred act and should not be done carelessly because having children is the ONLY path to immortality. It's not God or Jesus or even through writing. Even if people don't remember you, there is always going to be a part of you in the human race if you reproduce. Who knows, maybe once I have a kid I'll finally be able to accept death and live my life.

Oh and if this is not interesting enough for you, or if I'm just a bad writer, tell me. I'll give up my last grasp on my dream of becoming a writing because of a single anonymous post telling me to.

Just a poem that I wrote, I'm never sure if my poetry is good or not, but here it is:

victim of circumstance
introverted for a reason
reliving what might have been
going all the way . . . almost
inventing excuses
none of them make sense

This is a rare before work post, just for a before and after comparison. Today just started out bad, I wake up and I learn that plans that I had tonight were abruptly canceled. If I were to believe anybody when they say they forgot they had plans with their parrents then this girl would be the person I would believe, and she did reschedual for tomorrow night, but still I feel that might be getting blown off.


Four Months Later . . .

I'm going through my old drafts publishing half thoughts and I really don't remember what I was talking about here. I guess it must not have been that important.

Midnight Epiphany Flakes

I've just had another epiphany about why I cannot find a relationship. Of course it's possible that this might just be yet another justification for my pure laziness when it comes to finding a relationship, but I digress. The following analysis comes from ColorQuiz.com.

Your Stress Sources:

Delights in the tasteful, the gracious, and the sensitive, but maintains his attitude of critical appraisal and refuses to be swept off his feet unless genuineness and integrity can be absolutely vouched for. Therefore keeps a strict and watchful control on his emotional relationships as he must know exactly where he stands. Demands complete sincerity as a protection against his own tendency to be too trusting.

What that means is that I surround myself with the aesthetic and I pretend that I have superior taste in movies, books, food, etc. because of how I approach relationships. I'm still so afraid of trusting people's motives (after an humiliating moment in 8th grade), that I can't feel comfortable in a relationship unless the other person is completely open to me about their intentions. In a relationship or on a date, or in life I spend so much time trying to determine whether or not the other person really likes that I don't give them a reason to like me.

What this epiphany comes down to is this: I need to spend a lot less time questioning people's motives and spend more time giving people a reason to like me.

One more thing before I go. I may have been a bit of an ass to some people earlier tonight. Let me assure you that I am really a nice guy and please attribute any offensive stories to a streak of self destructive behavior. I'm not sure where it comes from, but whenever things are going good there's some defense mechanism in my mind that trips and I do unconscious things to make sure things go wrong eventually. That's why I got kicked out of Job Corps, that's why I have debt, and that's why none of my relationships have ever lasted.

Good night.

I went four days without smoking weed, and now I am, so just a precursor to whatever I might say. I just saw the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. What a deep and emotion provoking movie. It brings up the question, is it really better to have lost and lost than to never have loved at all? And I realized that I will never know the answer to that question because I have never loved. Hell, I've barely had a girlfriend. But I don't think that's what I want to write about. I wish there was away to somehow capture an emotion and save it for later review. I don't know what I'm feeling, it's certainly not negative. I feel happy that they got together. I get so into movies and the characters become real to me if only for the time that I'm watching the movie. It's like real life seems less real to me than movies, books and TV. I'd rather live in my fantasy worlds where Turtle sits around and smokes weed all day long while Vince and the rest of the guys work being famous. I want there to be an improbability drive that will jump you across the universe in an instant to meet the damsel in distress. I want to go to the doctor and have memories erased because they're just too painful. Of course, I'd rather have something like Total Recall. They can add that perfection relationship to my memories, and then fabricate the perfect movie break up like Casablanca (though I've never seen that movie.) Then I can decide for myself whether it is better to have loved and lost. Is real love and romance anything like the movies? If it isn't, then maybe it's better that I die alone, never finding love. If love isn't the only good thing left in the world, then I don't know what is. I always hope that when I fall in love it will all make sense. I'll finally find the question to the answer "47". I know it must be hard to understand this, whomever is reading this, but if you've never been in love and yet you've grown to be an adult, there's still hope in the world. That's where I put my hope anyway. Since I don't know what love will be like, I can still hope that it will make everything okay. Kind of like smoking weed. That's a great analogie that I made today while talking to my empty apartment. When I'm away from weed the world seems a hostile and dangerous place and I can never trust myself not to say the wrong thing. But when I'm high the world seems like it matters less, like it doesn't matter that I'm a 280 lb, 22 year old virgin with no social skills. This is getting long so I think I'll end it here. It feels so good to write again, I've missed it.

Later that night . . . . . . . . . . .

It turns out it didn't take that long for her to reject me. She just texted me and said she didn't want to hang out. But that's okay. From what I said in my last post, I wasn't that into her either. I guess it's better that she rejected me now before I spent all that money on a date. So, my loyal reader, I bid you goodnight as I let the pain of rejection float away on a cloud of smoke.

So I just told this new girl that I'm a virgin. Why do girls always seem to shrink away when I tell them that? Is virginity some weird STD that I don't know about? What am I supposed to lie when the subject comes up? Yeah I probably should have. I don't know. Maybe I'm so honest because I'd rather have girls reject me early before I have too many emotions invested in the relationship. Of course Colleen knew I was a virgin, knew what I looked like, and knew how I acted and she still like me. I rejected her because her calves were gross and she exaggerated a few facts so I thought she was a compulsive liar. Why oh why did I ever reject her. Now there was a girl that accepted me for me.

So I was on the phone with the latest online girl and she got a call from her ex and said goodbye. You know what, fuck it. I just talked on the phone for a few hours with this girl, it's not like we even went on a date. Of course we do have to go on the date, but that's merely a formality before she rejects me for being to fat, nervous, immature, whatever. Besides, from what I can tell she's a poor whore of a little girl. I don't know what I'm looking for, but maybe I won't find it online. Maybe I'll find it where I don't expect to. Or maybe I won't find it at all.

There is this line in a story that I read recently that felt almost prophetic when I read it: "He's going to be one of those sad, lonely old bachelors who is neither gay nor straight—just doesn't do sex at all."

What if that's me? What if I grow old and die alone without ever experiencing it? I think I'm just feeling rejected by this girl. I know I shouldn't care and I should be used to rejection by now, but still it's a bit painful. I know I don't feel like going to Salem tomorrow. We have nothing in common, and I already know that she won't like me. Why even bother? I'm sure she knows it too. Maybe she'll call and cancel tomorrow and I'll save some money on the date. Then she'll stop talking to me like all the other girls I've met from the Internet. That would be easier. Then I can spend the next two days floating on a cloud of smoke.

By the way, I'm feeling really low right now so any words of encouragement would help.

A dream:

I don't remember most of it, but I remember it having to do with my roommate dieing, only he wasn't my roommate it was the guy from Karate Kid I think, me and a couple of other people went somewhere regarding his death, but they wouldn't let me go with them to the funeral in Arizona because I assume I was annoying them somehow. Adn somehow the entire dream took place infront of the middle school that was across the street from my high school, which at some poit magically transformed into a cheap hollywood western set, except the set was in Newport on the highway down the road from the house my real father grew up in. So yeah, a weird dream.

SEX

Sex as a 22 year old virgin I have a bit of a unique perspective on it. Or rather no perspective at all. I remember as early as 8 or 9 I was looking at Playboy. It was fun, I always thought that someday I would have it, but as the years when on, I started to give up a little at time. Never mind, I thought tonight was the night for that post, but I guess it isn't. For what it's worth, I have a date with a girl from Craigs List on Saturday. She seems a bit eager to meet me. I'm afraid that the new picture on myspace is mis-leading. Jamie altered it so I would look attractive, but I'm not sure if I'm actually attractive or not. I know this girl seems to think I am, and I'd hate to disappoint. It's almost not woth the effort. I know what will happen. She'll see me and either she'll not be attracted to me, or I'll commit some social faux paux that will cause her to see me as the bumbling virgin that I am. Or she'll actually like me and I'll see some major flaw in her that makes it impossible for me to be with her. I know every girl that has ever been interested in me, fine maybe not, but I found flaw with the last girl that was interested in me. In my defense, she was a compulsive liar and morbidly obese. Of course I am too, so that shouldn't have made a difference. I guess that's the only example that I can think of when I pushed away a girl when she got too interested. Wait, there's the other example that I couldn't think of. Brina. Brina was weird though. She looked like an ostrage, she was 6 feet tall and religious. She was really interested in me, but I couldn't let her get too close. I didn't want to be her first. As it is, I think I was her first kiss, but that was after a bottle of Hennesy, so anybody looks attractive then. I don't know where I'm going with this, but my point is this: I think that I find flaws in girls when the get too interested, because I'm afraid to get into a relationship. It seems like a bitch thing to say, but what if I get hurt? They say it's better to loved and lost, etc, but what if it's not true. You know what it really is, it's not about getting my heart broken. I'm afraid that I'll suck the first time I finally do it. There is a story here that would make me think I'll suck when it finally happens, but if you want to hear it, send me an e-mail and I'll tell you. It's something that I've never written about and I'm kind of ashamed. Alas, that whole story is really embarrassing. But if you're interested, I'll tell you. So wish me luck on Saturday and remember Go Ducks!

So I'm sitting here bored, alone and high. Seems like a typical night for me, most of the time I can occupy my mind enough so that you know what, fuck it, I think I'm going to write some random story, I don't know what what will come out, but I've had the urge to write more than blogs lately. Maybe something was finally purged from me so that I've said all that there is to say about myself, so I don't have to write any more. Or maybe the reason I blog is because I'm looking for somebody out there to take notice of my life . Now that people have, I don't feel the urge to blog as much. Or maybe I'm high. I don't have a lot of good writing when I'm high, so I usually try to avoid it, but lately it's hard to find time when I'm lucid enough write. So yeah, I just drove an hour each way just to get weed. I didn't even stop to hang out with any of my friends there. Just there and back, I was back in an hour and a half with stops for gas and cigarettes. I don't know, it was fun I guess. I'm still fairly new at driving so going for a drive like that is still fun. But doesn't it seem like every time somebody gets into a car, they're taking a gamble with their own lives? It doesn't matter how safe a driver you are, there's always that chance that you're going die on the road. It scares the hell out of me, but in accepting that fact I'm coming closer to accepting death. At least as a discussable topic. It used to be that whenever the topic came up, I'm start having a panic attack. Even right now I feel my chest tightening. I know that overwhelming fear is just a thought away, but as long as I can keep writing, I might be able to distract myself from it. There it's going away now. It seems that my thought are rambling tonight, but it's covering a lot of different subjects so I think it might be good reading. It's weird, when I'm typing this I'm now imagining all these different people reading me. Like those two anonymous comments that I got on my post about quitting weed. Maybe more than my uncle and Jamie actually read this thing. Still, it's a personal thing. But I have the feeling I'm saying the same things other people are feeling, I'm just putting them to words. I don't think I've seen that done before, so who knows, maybe the right person will read this and want to pay me to write. Now that's the ultimate dream, to get paid to write. Writing is a lot of fun. This isn't work to me, writing was never work. Even when I was on the newspaper, writing was still fun. I loved working up against a deadline, I knew that if I pushed my brain hard enough it would come up with something that people would like to read. Here it's typing out my inner monologue. This must be getting boring to read, but I think I'll just type until there's nothing left to say. Ha ha, maybe that was the last thing I had to say. Oh, tonight I will be publishing half completed entries that were saved as drafts. I won't be editing them at all, so it's a lot of raw emotion. Am I just getting carried away here, do people actually like my writing? Or am I just so desperate to be good at something, that I really like my own writing even if it isn't any good? Ugh. Even after all that writing, I'm still sitting in an empty apartment getting high. How depressing is this? But I'll play some video games, and watch TV and eat of course, this will distract me at least until I go to tired to keep my eyes open. If I got to bed before I'm tired, it's a recipe for a panic attack. I lay there trying to get to sleep, and checking the clock every fifteen minutes, imagining how bad tomorrow will be if I don't get enough sleep. But anyway, I'll wake up tomorrow, smoke a bowl in bed and get up, watch more TV, play more video games and eat more. Then because I have Monday off this week too, I'll do the same thing on Monday. A work night is no different, I come home I get high, I watch TV, play video games and wander around the Internet in search of an end to the loneliness that is always simmering under the surface of my mind. People think I spend too much time with my family, but they are the only people that have to accept me being with them. With any group of people other than my family, I always wonder if I'm really wanted. I'm always so worried about over staying my welcome, that I never truly let myself go. I'm always too reserved, too polite for normal people my age. Of course I'm polite. Politeness and professionalism have become my defense mechanisms. When ever I get into a conflict, I switch to "customer service mode", I'm always apologetic and I invariable say, "I understand why you would feel that way". I think if I ever had the ability to stand up for myself, this job has killed it. Actually I don't I ever had that ability, I just found a job where lack of self confidence is a plus. So here is where I trail off into nothingness, I'm sure I could write for another half hour, but I think I'll spare you the pain.

So quitting lasted all of a day, all this build up and nothing. Same with loosing weight, I gained 5 pounds in the week that I was supposed to be loosing. But that's okay, I don't know why but it's okay. I know I should write more, but I don't feel like writing that much today. So I think I'll just go for a 2 minute free write, those are fun. So here it goes:

Here it goes, let's see what's on my mind. Not much really, I'm sitting here in an empty apartment watching Entourage and I'm having so much fun. There's purple penguins playing a piano in the corner as I walk into a bar enchanted by the rejects from Pan's Labyrinth. Red linguine is being served in the quarter mile buffet that resembles a trough more than a serving line. Ha ha, the random words of a bored mind. After that period of near lucidity I have once again fallen into the haze that is way too comfortable. I know it's not much, but I'll probably have a good post on Thursday. Holidays always bring out the worst in me.

Quitting: Day One

Marijuana, weed, cannabis, my blessing, my cure, the reason I wake up in the morning, the reason I work so hard all day, and the reason I only have three shirts and three pairs of pants. I've been coming to the slow realization that weed is controlling my life like it controlled my parents' life for the better part of 18 years. I'm not saying that weed is bad, because it's not. It's just taken control of my life for the past year or so. Now it's time to come out of my haze. But what am I coming out to? A stuck up, ex-jock of a roommate and his dirty whore of a girlfriend? A family to whom I'll be a perpetual failure until I knock up some bitch or at least get laid? I have no personal life, I really have no life at all. I don't have a hobby or a pet. I have nothing to occupy my time but smoking weed. Weed numbs it all, it makes it okay to be alone. It turns a day off sitting around the house with nothing to do except contemplate my loneliness into a pleasant haze that takes all of my emotional issues away with it on it's blue/gray clouds to heaven. It's been 22 hours since I took my last puff of weed and it's damned hard. I have a mild headache and the stress of work is still pushing hard on my shoulders. All I want to do is let my problems float away, but I can't. One I'm broke, two I can't do it any more. I don't want to quit, I don't ever want to quit. I don't yet see how quitting weed will get me a girlfriend, or even why I want a girlfriend any more. I just don't see how another person in my life will make life any better. Can sex really be that much better than self love (which is really just a bodily function at the point)? Is it really worth all the effort that I'm putting into it? At this point I just don't know. All I know that society tells me that's what I should be striving for, and maybe I should be, I'm sure it's more healthy than sitting around smoking weed. But it has such potential for hurt. When ever I look for love or lust even, I end up getting hurt. I haven't even had a crush since Job Corps. Well I guess A, but she's so unobtainable it's ridiculous. How can anybody ever love me when I carry this much emotional baggage and weigh 292.8 lbs? Which brings me to other thing that happened today. I'm joining a weight loss group at work (Jamie's idea, thank you!!) starting tomorrow. I'm sure I won't like it, but it's something to do. To close: yeah, I have issues with sex. I have a lot of issues with sex. I'm just not sure if this is the place to air them all. I know a lot of people read this, I'm not sure if I'm ready to be judged over my qualms with sex. I have plenty to say about it, I'm just waiting for someone to tell me it's okay to let it all out. Here's to day one. Thanks for reading.

Post number 200.

Wow, 200 times I've come to my blog out of boredom, desperation, or the mild relief that comes from believing that somebody cares. Now I'm come to my blog on just a normal day with my normal problems. Life is lonely, "cry about it bitch" is what I secretly tell myself whenever I'm feeling lonely and I guess it never works.

To continue this random rant, there are times when I'm sitting at work, or watching a movie, or driving or any other time that I start to feel guilty for things that I did as a kid. For example, and this is my big revelation for my 200th post: when I was a kid, probably 8 or 9, I was playing with my little sister, she would have been three or four at the time. She was jumping off of a little picnic table into my arms, we were having fun playing around, when for no apparent reason (I still can't think of why) I pulled my arms away as she jumped from the table. She fell to the porch and just crumbled. She was okay, just a bruise or two if that, but I feel guilty to this day. Wow, even as I write this I get tears in my eyes. How could I do such a thing, I was just having fun. She trusted me so completely and I let her down. She was hurt because she trusted me. I know that I shouldn't feel guilty over it any more, but here I am almost crying. It must be irrational, but maybe that's the day that my family started to hate me. Maybe that's when she started to hate me. Of course nobody should ever trust me. How could anybody trust me when I would do such a horrible thing. Maybe I'm looking for absolution for doing that, even though I shouldn't need it at this point, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry more than I've ever been sorry for anything that I've ever done. It seems that most of the time when I say I'm sorry it's just because I just want to get out of trouble, or because I have to (work, blah) but for this I truly am sorry. I know I said it when it to her when it happened, and I'm sure nobody else even remembers it, but still I feel bad.

Wow, I just realized how irrational that all seems. Feeling guilty for something that happened so long ago and didn't have any real consequences. But I'm sorry.

As an end note, thank you to everyone that's read my blog over the past 200 posts. My uncle may be right, I might not be able to express my true self here for fear of judgment, but I do my best.

So I've decided that the problems with the girls that read personal ads is that their expectations are too high. By the time you've resorted to personal ads, you need to be able to accept the absolute bottom of the barrel. That's all there is on personal ads, people that have exhausted all other resources and come to the inevitable conclusion that there is probably nobody other there for them. It's like fishing high, you don't really care if you catch anything, you just want to be able to tell people that you tried so you don't seem uninterested.

So one response so far from those 8 adds that I replied to earlier. Just a hi on yahoo messenger, and she just saw my pic, so I'm sure nothing will come of it. Her ad was interesting though, just asking people to describe the perfect first date, here's what I responded with:

I pick you up, I'm a little nervous, but when you open your door I know that there's no need to be. We go the the nearest bowling alley, we bowl a couple of games, have a couple of beers and know that there's the connection that people always talk about. From there, we decide to grab something to eat at an Applebee's or Red Robins, something like that. Then, for no apparent reason except for the sheer spontaneity of it we drive to the coast and have a quiet, moon lit walk on the beach. As we walk down the beach, the fog comes in and we find a big rock at the jetty to sit on, we watch the fog swirl around us and enjoy the moment. From there, anything might happen.

So I got off of work early today and decided to spend the afternoon cruising craigs list. I know it seems to be a futile endeavor, but I'll keep on trying, what else can I do? I replied to 8 personal ads, that's right 8, and posted two of my own. I got a reply from one a couple of days ago, but she ignored me as soon as she saw my picture. Am I really that repulsive? That always happens to me, I'll be sending e-mails back and forth with a girl sometimes two or three a day, then as soon as she sees my picture she runs away. I have gotten two dates out from craig's list in the past year, but no second dates. So here's my standard reply to a personal ad, I always personalize it a little, but here it is. Interestingly enough, it includes a pic so here it is, maybe you can tell me what's wrong with me?

Hi,

I'm Jason, I'm 22 and I live in Albany. I know it's a little far, but distance doesn't matter if there's a connection. I have my own car and apartment and I've had the same job as a Senior Rep at a call center for the past two years, so I like to think that I'm reliable and independent. I'm into cooking, good classic movies and the occasional video game.

I'm 5'8", 275 lbs. I'm a little big, but I'm working on it, I've lost 20 lbs in the past three months. I have dark brown, wavy hair, blue/grey eyes and glasses. Here's my myspace if you want to see a pic:
http://www.myspace.com/oblivionschild

I've never spent a lot of time in Portland, just the bus station on my way to a job in Yakima, so I'd love to make a trip up there, maybe you can show me around.So if you like what you hear, or would like to hear more, reply. If not, I hope you find what you're looking for.

Hope to hear from you,
Jason

(END OF AD)

Can anybody tell me what's wrong with me? Or maybe I just try too hard, who knows.

So I just woke up from spending the past five days high (just weed I promise) and now I feel empty. I don't know, just the all too common loneliness that I feel most of the time, but weed covers it up so well. So I just replied to a couple of personal ads on Craig's List and sent some messages to the few friends that I do have, so maybe when I wake up in the morning it won't all seem so bleak.

Another holiday alone. So Halloween is here and I get to spend it alone again. It's not that Halloween is a huge holiday, but it sucks to be sitting in an empty house with nothing to do except for stare at a lonely computer and hearing phantom rings on my phone. It's funny, I'll be in the other room and I can seriously hear my phone ringing, but when I get there I have no missed calls and I'm still destined to face another holiday alone. Alas, I guess it can only get better. So that's all there's to say about it. Another holiday alone as I try to find new ways to occupy the time between I get off work and when I have to go back. I hope everyone else had a great holiday.

A dream that I had right before I woke up, it rambles, but I die at the end so you might want to read it.

A dream

It starts out in a bar with a bunch of people, I'm start talking to this girl and she leaves withotu giving me her number, not too weird. The next scene I walk into an porta potty (a portable toilet) and while I'm standing there some kid tips it over and roles it around. The next couple of minutes are spent catching this kid and shoving him in an even smaller portable toilet, and rolling him around. The next scene, I'm sitting around with some people from work, asking about that girl that left and one of them gets a text from that girl I was flirting with saying she wants to hang out with me. So next thing I know, I'm sitting on my couch w/ this girl, but for some reason it's in the middle of a parking lot of some hotel or low income apartments. Again we're hitting it off, at this point the girl doesn't look, but feels like the girl from donnie darko. She's cute, but quiet and responsive, anyways, in the middle of almost making out with her, the same people that tipped over the portable toilet come back (at this point they look like the drug dealer kids from the wire) but they chase us and it's like a summer resort from the 60's mixed with my old high school, weird. And the cool part is, I can run the entire time without loosing breath. The girl that I was with does get ahead, but every time I turn a corner, she's still there with me. Anyways, we start running down a dock, and interestingly enough there are cars floating on the water in parking spots, but they're actually on the water. So we get to the end of the dock and Morgan Freeman (who for some reason was running with us) jumps off the dock and swims for some island, at this point I look back and that girl I was hitting it off with in the bar so long ago has now changed to Ginny Weasly, but is still the same girl. But I jump in among these floating cars and then I can't get my head above water, it's like the surface is too far away. I get my head above once and I'm trying to yell, the only person that hears me is that girl and she says something like "wait there he is" with hope in her voice, but then Morgan Freeman says something like "If only he were a better person, we might have rescued him"

That's when I sink below the water and the next thing I know, I wake up and I really do have to go to the bathroom, but I'm alive thank god.

So there it is, I might try to analyze it later, but for now at least it's down.

Jamie,



Of course I'm afraid of death, because I fear that things might not get better in the end. Yeah life sucks, and at points in life I have seriously considered suicide, but I'm more afraid to die than I am to live.


Also, you might be right. I don't need a codependent girlfriend and I

Dear first and future girlfriend,

Here is a letter that I wrote in the middle of a haze, under the influence of a very deep movie, it rambles a bit, but it's from the heart so don't be too harsh.

I don't know who you are, but when I meet you I'll probably say something stupid. I'll probably act scared to death and I'll never look you in the eyes, don't take it as it insult, it's how I am. At first I'll try to impress you using all those endless dating techniques written about on the Internet, please ignore this. Just assure me that you like me for who I am, not for cheap pickup lines that are never quite explained in all those dating techniques. When I finally accept that you like me for who I am, don't get scared of what you see. Accept my insecurities, let me know that none of them matter because you love me. If I get too clingy, tell me, I've never had a relationship, I don't know what to do. If I'm not clingy enough, push my boundaries, let me know that it's okay to show affection. If I sometimes jump at your touch, don't be alarmed, it'll take me a while to get used to all of this. And above all, remember that I'm new to this and that I would never do any thing to hurt you, so if I do something stupid, I promise it wasn't on purpose.

So there it is my first and future girlfriend. This is what you've gotten yourself into. If you can't handle it or if I'm just not worth it, leave now. I'm used to rejection, just don't make me think that there's something here when there isn't, I'll never hope again if you do.

For lack of an elegant sign off,

Jason

UPDATE: I think I'm going to put a slightly edited version of this on craigs list just to see what happens.

I just saw Donnie Darko for the first time, and wow, what a disturbing and thought provoking movie. It's like, in order for him to die in the present, he hand to live a few more weeks so he could very indirectly cause his death. It's really hard to explain. But my reaction, without trying to explain it. I'm actually too stoned to write a good response, but it's scary. It's all about death and that's something that I try to avoid thinking about at all costs. In fact, in an effort not to let that little seed of panic into my mind an hour before bed, I'm going to talk about something else. As far as that blind date goes, it never happened. Even after I talked myself into going it fell through. Wow, it takes a real looser to get stood up on a blind date. And I know I wasn't stood up, but it still feels like getting rejected before the fact. Of course that's what I do to every girl that I meet. They're either, too good looking, too ugly, or just within the looks range that is willing to lower their standards to go out with me. I know that's a skewed logic, and putting into writing helped me realize just how skewed it is. Maybe I missed out on a lot of girls just because I thought they were out of my league. Who knows, maybe there is the one girl out there that will accept me for who I am, no despite, but because of my flaws. The one that will think my shyness is cute, my quirks are charming. I still hope she's out there somewhere. I know I won't judge on looks anymore, but I might have already passed up the one. Donnie Darko finds his one before he dies, as disturbed as he was, he found someone to love him for it. Plus Donnie Darko has one of those damsel in distress relationship. He save her from bullies and she looks to him for protection, they eventually grow to love each other from it. I don't know why, but there is something really appealing about a girl that is afraid and comes to me for comfort. It's like I have to be brave for her even if I don't feel it. When I'm alone the fear is allowed to take hold. What I'm trying to say is: I'm brave if somebody needs me to be brave. Maybe the damsel in distress (DID) appeals to me, because . . . I don't know why the DID appeals to me so much. It's like I want to make the pain go away, I want to save you from the pain that I can't save myself from. And that's it, I'll be brave for you and I'll make your pain go away, so maybe I can forget about my own. And who is this "you" that I'm referring to? I don't know, the girl of my dreams maybe, my co inhibitor for my most out there ideas. What I just spit out was a letter to my first and future girlfriend, that will be in my next post. I hope somebody reads it, just so I know I'm not as crazy as I fear I am.

So I just got set up on a blind double date with my roommate and his girlfriend. The girl that she set up with is way, way out of my league. At least as far as looks go. Plus this girl knows nothing about me, so she'll be expecting some good looking guy and instead she'll get me: the ultra nervous and awkward three-hundred pound hairy guy with thick glasses and bad teeth. Throw in the fact that I'm a staunch liberal and a smoker and she'll run away at first sight. I know this is irrational, but at some point between elementary school and job corps I started to ignore the girls that I felt were out of my league. If a girl is too good looking, or too smart, or too refined, I just don't pay any attention to them. I know it's all about my deep seeded insecurities, and I'm sure this is the reason I still haven't found anybody to date. I don't know what else to say about this. I guess what makes me the most wearie is my roommate's girlfriend's intentions. I know it's all a ploy to get him to take her on a date, but why should I get involved. On the other hand, what's the worst that can happen? The worst that can happen, every bad date from every bad movie that I've ever seen. From the Judd Law character in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, to most of the characters in American Pie. Ugh, I watch too many movies, and I have to be at work in 7 hours, so I bid you good night.

Here's a craigslist personal ad that I posted tonight, what do you think?

Something interesting should go here too, but not tonight. Tonight I make an appeal to all those women looking for a decent guy. That's about all I have to offer, I'm 22 and I have my own car, my own apartment and a decent job. I'm into reading, sports and yes, I'll admit it: video games. I'm looking for a girl, 18-25, has similar interests and is willing to take it slow. Let's start with coffee and see where it goes. So if you're interested, send me an e-mail, your pic gets mine.

So I went on a first date tonight with some girl I met online. And the girl just wants to be friends. It's not that I was that into her, but it still sucks to be rejected. I know I've said this before, but I'm so sick of being alone. I did all the right things with this girl, but I'm sure I made some sort of mistake somewhere. Maybe it's just my destiny to die alone. Maybe it's not, I don't know. It seems like the last girl that I was really attracted to was Gina from Job Corps, but she wasn't interested in me because I was too interested in her. At that point I made up my mind not to seem too interested in any girl, but maybe in my quest not to seem too interested I don't seem interested enough. Ugh, why is this bothering me so much? Why does one rejection from a girl that I wasn't that interested in hurt so bad? It really does hurt, I'm just so damned sick of being alone. Again, I know this is familiar ground, but it shouldn't hurt this much. I want to let this role off my back and I'm sure by the end of tomorrow it won't matter, but for now it hurts. Just the hope that this girl might like me made my roommate's girl friend a little more tolerable. Now seeing them together feels like the universe is rubbing love in my face. All I want is for somebody to be attracted to me. I know I'm not that attractive, but I thought that if I just lowered my standards far enough I would find somebody that was willing to lower their standards. *sigh* I guess that isn't the case. Or who knows, maybe there really is somebody out there for me, I just have to quit looking. Yeah, right. If I stop looking then I'll never find anybody. Fuck it all, at least for tonight. If somebody reads this and wants to offer some words of comfort, I'd really appreciate it.

So this girl Melody is sent me a myspace message, but I haven't read it yet, I'm too nervous. Now there's a girl that I have history with. The mistakes that I made going after that girl may the direct cause of my perpetual purity. Worst of all, that girl played me so bad, she took every bit of pride that I had. She knew that I was head-over-heals for her and she took advantage of it.

The past two nights I've had the same dream. I'm playing Halo 3, only I am actually in the game. But as I'm wandering through the hallways, I'm looking for my girlfriend. And keep in mind, I'm 22 and still have not had a girlfriend. It's weird, the girlfriend when I do find her is a tall classically beautiful blond, but not somebody I know. Just a quick blurb before work.

Just a real quick post before work. First, wireless sucks. I miss OEM. And second, Halo 3 came out this morning and I'm buying it first thing after work. I can't wait. Is it bad that I'm considering calling in sick for a day or two to immerse myself in a new game?

Though nobody seems to read this, I was bored and lonely as usual and I happened upon this survey on myspace. So I filled it out and it was almost like somebody cared enough to ask me all these questions. So here it is:


Myspace Survey About Me
Full Name: Jason Feller
Birthday: August 19, 1985
Birthplace: Lincoln City, OR
Age: 22
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blond
Height: 5'8"
Righty or Lefty: Righty
Worst Habit: ***********
Zodiac Sign: Leo
Parents Still Together: No, but my mom and step-dad have been together since I was 5.
Hero: Bill Clinton, I miss the 90's.
Greatest Fear: Death
Goal You Like To Achieve This Year: To find the next step on my journey through life.
Best Physical Feature: My hair maybe?
Favorites Color: Black, Purple, Green
Food: Anything deep fried.
Sport: College Football
Animal: Cat
Ice Cream: Mint without chocolate chips.
Candy: Snickers
Store: Anything but Wal*Mart, they killed the drive in.
Actor: Mat Damon
Movie: Right now . . . Pan's Labyrinth
Singer: Diamond Head
Song: Am I evil?
Letter: W, my middle initial and the reason I can say I share a birthday with last president and a middle initial with the current one.
Number: 1, it's the loneliest number
Gum: Winterfresh
Holiday: Thanksgiving (go sweet potatoes!)
Season: Winter, I didn't really have one growing up on the coast.
Drink: Diet Pepsi and Jack and Coke
Day of the Week: Saturday, college football all day, party all night.
Month: December, a time to look back.
Book: The Stand by Stephen King
Flavor: Mint
Scent: Not something I'd wear, but cucumber melon.
Ethnic Food: German
TV Show: Entourage
NFL Football Team: Seahawks
Board Game: Risk
Chinese Checkers
Card Game: Gin or Blackjack
Type of Car: Yukon Denali
Name for a Girl: Emily
Name for a Boy: Jake
Quote: "Is all that we see or seem, but a dream within a dream?" - - Edgar Allen Poe
Season: Winter
Subject: Psychology

Friends and Life
What do you want to be when you grow up: An adult
How do you want to die: I don't want to die
Which one of your friends acts most like you: I'm unique
Who Makes You Laugh the Most: I don't laugh
Who Have You Known the Longest: Denise
Who's The Shyest: Me
Where Do You Want to live when you grow up: Alaska

Have You Ever....
Been Kissed: Yes
Skipped School: Yes
Laughed So Hard You Cried: No
Cried in School: Not since 1st grade.
Wanted to be a Model: No
Been on a stage: Yes
Cheated on a test: Yes, but I let her copy off of me.
Called a teacher mom: Let's just say no.
Said something really stupid and then regretted it: Every day

Do You....
Sing Well: I like to think so.
Shower Daily: Definitely
Want to go to College: Yeah
Want to get married: Yes, sometimes all I want is a family.
Want to have kids: Yes
Believe in yourself: At times
Get Motion Sickness: Nope
Get Along with Your Parents: Not most of the time
Like Thunderstorms: Love 'em
Play an Instrument: No
Own an IPOD: Nope
Pray: No
Go to Church:No
Read Your Bible: When I really can't sleep.
Sleep with a stuffed animal: Nope
Keep a Journal: I've kept a blog for the past four years.
Sing in the Shower: Yes
Talk to yourself: Yeah, but I don't answer back.
Like School: If it weren't for all the people.
Own a Laptop: Nope

This or That
Pepsi or Coke: Coke
McDonald's or Burger King: BK Lounge
Chocolate or Vanilla: Vanilla
Strawberries or Blueberries: strawberries
Tv or Movies: TV
Chinese or Mexican: Chinese
Cheerios or Cornflakes: Cornflakes
Casual or Dressy: Casual
Love or Money: Love doesn't exist, so money.
Black or White: Black
Math or Science: Neither
Football or Basketball: Football
Tennis Shoes or Flip-flops: Tennis Shoes
Candy or Gum: Neither
Car or Truck: Car, trucks are killing the O-Zone
Snow or Rain: Snow!
Summer or Winter: Winter
Hot or Cold: cold
Tea or Coffee: Coffee
Pizza or Hamburger: Hamburger
French Fries or Onion Rings: Fries
Jeans or Khakis: Jeans
City or Country: Small town

Can You....
Do A Split: No
Roll Your Tongue in A Circle: Yes
Write With Both Hands: No
Whistle: Yes
Blow A Bubble: Yes
Touch Your Tongue to Your Nose: No
Dance: I can try.
Eat Whatever You Want and Not Worry: Heck Yes, but I shouldn't
Who Was The Last Person You Touched: I don't touch people
Talked on the Phone to: Some awful customer
Instant Messaged: Sue
Hugged: Carley
Told You Loved Them: There's no such thing.
Took A Picture: Cassie
Smiled At: The customer I was talking to about the Eagles yesterday.

What's The Last Time
Time You Laughed: A few hours ago.
Time You Cried: A good drunk gone bad.
Movie You Watched: Pan's Labyrinth
Flavor of Gum You Chewed: Citrus Mint
Song You've Sung: Elanore Rigby
Place You've Been: work
Book You've Read: The Golden Compass
Grade You Made on A Test: A
Person You Talked To In Person: Roommate

Right At This Moment
Where Are You: Home
What Can You See Out Your Window: Trees
Are You Listening To Music: No
What Are You Wearing: jeans and work shirt.

Beliefs
Do you believe in life on other planets: Yeah, the universe is too big for us to be unique.
Do you believe in miracles: Not really
Magic: Only in books
Love at first sight: At this point love seems a myth
God: I really really want to, but I can't.
Satan: same thing
Ghosts: same thing
Santa: Ha ha, I'm Santa
Evolution: definitely
Big Bang: It's better than creation.
Abortion: NO!!!!
Gay Marriage: Well sure, who cares not my business!!!

In The Opposite Sex
Fav. Eye Color: Green
Fav Hair Color: Red
Short or Long Hair: Long
Height: Shorter than 5'10"
Weight: Doesn't Matter
Clothing Style: As simple as possible

Random What Country Would You Most Like To Visit: Ireland
Number of CD's I own: none I think
Good Luck Charm: don't have one
How Many Pillows Do You Sleep With: 1
How Many Blankets Do You Sleep With: 1
Do You Drink Milk: ya
Where Do You Think We Go When We Die: Sadly, nowhere
How Many Rings Until You Answer Your Phone: On the 2nd one ore not at all.
Are You A Health Freak: No, but I'm getting better.
What Is The Worst Weather: Sunny and 85 degrees, it's depressing
Did You Play With Barbies As A Child: No
Did You Watch Barney As A Child: No, but my sisters did.
How Many Grades Have You Failed: None
How Many States Have You Been In: 6
Which State Would You Like To Visit That You Have Not Been To?: Alaska

I hate being an inconvenience for people. I should just change my mind and say I'm too sick to go or something like that. Or I'll try to make it up to them, my uncle and his family is going out of their way to pick me up even though I have a car. Just because I'm too fucking stoned to give directions or to drive to Mount Angel for that matter. Why should my insecurities and intoxications cause other people work? They're my insecurities to deal with, hmmm, there's a thought, maybe I like my insecurities because they're comfortable. No that doesn't make any sense. But I often think that the only reason I still have my character flaws is because subconciencly I want to have them. Why else would I still be a social outcast at 22. It's like socializing has these rules that everybody is supposed to learn before they enter school and nobody every taught them to me. So to start out life I was behind and as children grow they learn the other social subtleties. Since I didn't have the base of social skills before entering school, my peers learned of these subtleties without me, leaving me behind even further. By the third grade I was firmly established as a social outcast and from at that point I never turned it around. I'm sure there were opportunities to turn it all around and become a normal person, but by the time they came around my experiences as social outcast prevented me from taking them. For example in 8th grade something happened to me where people who I thought were my friends really couldn't stand me. They didn't tell me as much as reported me to the school concealer because I was following them around. Can you imagine how humiliating that was? Here I was thinking that I had established myself in a new school when these people basically accuse me of stalking them. Anyway, that experience made me believe that every time I thought somebody was being nice to me, they really wanted me to go away. I couldn't trust my own perceptions of people. My thoughts were something like: "That girl was nice to me. Was she? Or do I just think she was acting nice to me when she really wanted me to go away. Ohh, now I feel depressed, even though that girl acted nice she really wanted me to go away. Nobody will ever love me." I know I was fucked up then, and really I still am. Talking to those people from high school I realize that I was a very different person back then. Since I spend most of my time looking back, I forget how much I've changed. Back then I was rode life on emotion and I could never get anything productive done unless I was emotionally charged. Life was all about me and what I wanted and nobody else really factored into my life. And I was incredibly naive back then. People probably looked down on me because I just wasn't at their level socially. I have to say though, I was a lot better looking back then than I am now. So the price of figuring out how to be social was loosing the looks to do it with. Or something like that, this entry is really starting to ramble. I'm sure none of this will make sense tomorrow, tomorrow I love ya tomorrow it's only a day away. Now I'm just typing for the sheer joy of typing. There's something good to be felt from knowing that I can type exactly as fast as I think. There's nothing between my fingers and my mind. It's a continuous flow of thought. That's when I do some of my best writing. Of course nobody will ever take the time to read this. Maybe if I get famous all these lonely rantings will be read. I've been keeping a blog consistently since late senior year. That's almost five years with no more than a six week gap in posts and I think that only happened when I lost access to a private computer for a while. So this is getting really long so I should probably stop. I hope it stays cloudy today I plan to wear all black and I don't want to be in hell like I was at the Ducks game. And speaking of the Ducks, they're doing pretty good this year. They made it through the preseason unscathed. I don't think that they're going to make it through the pac-10 schedule quite so easily. My prediction is that the Ducks loose to USC and Cal and maybe Arizona or some other random team. The Ducks will play in a mid level bowl game and try again next year.

Am I living too much in the past? I don't know, I want to write more but there seems to be some sort of mental block. Like even writing in this blog is some how living too much in the past. I know that I will read what I write today in a year or two or even a few months if things change dramatically for some unknown reason. So the point of this entry, now that my block is slowly going away. Earlier today I was in search of who I was back in high school and so I started to look up people from back then on myspace. I see this girl that I walked at graduation with, so I send her a friendly e-mail saying "How've you been, etc." I know that I have to stop doing that. I've been searching for satisfaction in the past when there's nothing there except for broken plans and dieing dreams. So she replies to me and said that I was the guy that complimented her practically every day. That's embarrassing. I was weird back then, I was so eager to please. Back then I was only kid, I could make mistakes and people would shrug them off. If only somebody would have told me that the way I was approaching relationships was just not the right way. I don't know if I would have listened back then, I thought that it was still maybe possible to have that high school relationship that I missed. I thought it might happen I just had to try harder. I knew that there was someone out there for me, but somehow the way I attached to people and tried to gain their attention, I don't know. Nobody ever versed me on the finer points of socializing. I had to figure it out by trial and error. So I did everything wrong the first and second sometimes third times. I didn't know that girls didn't like to be showered by compliments by guys they barely knew, that's what they did on TV. I didn't know how to read those subtle signs that people give out when they're uncomfortable with you, because on TV nothing's subtle. So I made my mistakes, and eventually I learned what was socially acceptable and what wasn't, but I made a lot more mistakes along the way than most people. There are still weird incidents from my past that will randomly pop up in my head while I'm thinking about something else and I'll blush because of how stupid I was. It's almost like post traumatic stress. That's something that would be cool to have. Alas, my time is limited so I must stop this rant prematurely. This really was some of the most honest writing I've done in a long time. I think I've purged myself of some pent up embarrassment. Maybe it won't be so bad anymore.

Two mile stones this week. One, the last post was my 180th post. One hundred and eighty times I have come to my blog in to express those feelings that nobody cares about. When I was at my most alone, this blog made me feel a little better. And when I'm at my most desperate, well sometimes it makes me seem a more desperate. I'm considering moving a few select entries to my myspace account. These are going to be great example of my writing and hopefully nothing too personal. Just enough to offend some people and to intrigue others. I think I'll do that. I know that myspace is too damned public, but I should at least bare some of my soul to those people who look at what I choose to present to the world and judge me. This blog has been at times a place of judgement. There are times when I lash out at one person or another in ways that I could never say to their faces. There are some forbidden thoughts in the depth of this collection that should remain buried. I don't want people to see the real me, but seeing the me that I choose to present has not been working lately either. So let's see what there is to post on myspace. I think I'll post links to some of my favorite entries here before I post them on myspace. So without any more rambling, I will plunge into these past 180 entries and pick out those that show my skills.

A missed encounters ad from Eugene's Craigslist:

our song - w4m


you even know what it is? isn't life great? it don't matter if your rich.... (you will never get it, will you?)

This struck me as sad, because I think that's what I'm doing with life. This mystery woman is stabbing this unknown guy with accusations of greed. All the woman wants is a connection and the guy is too lost in the superficial to notice. Maybe the guy isn't intentionally superficial or greedy, maybe the guy's just apprehensive of real relationships. Maybe past failures have killed this guy's ability to connect with someone. Maybe all the woman needs to do is be push herself on the guy a little harder so there's no more confusion.

And maybe, I don't know what I'm talking about, but I'm bored and I can write what I want to.

For a different point of view: I smoke alone.

To set up the scene a little: I just spent two days in Eugene hanging out with various people. It seems like I was trying to capture something that I thought I used to have but didn't. But that's not the real issue, the real issue is, fuck it. I think I'm going to smoke a bowl and see if life's problems can really float away on a cloud of smoke. Huh, I guess life's problems really can float away on a cloud of smoke. It doesn't matter that I committed all kinds of social faux pauxs causing me to look like a jack ass on at least three occasions. It doesn't matter that I my original budget for the weekend went all to hell because of an overlooked cell phone charger. It doesn't matter that I have the last wireless training test tomorrow and I just couldn't concentrate on studying in class. Wow, this weed is good. It feels like I'm floating upside down like in those old squirrel cages at the carnival. My sense of perspective is weird. It's like I'm laying on the ground typing on the computer that's some how lower that where I am laying on the ground. Ha ha, I'm going to keep that in, even though I don't know if it will make any sense later. What's weird is that I can control this weird sense of vertigo, any time I want I can divert my eyes from the computer screen and the world feels normal again. Weird, damn it, negative thoughts are starting to invade this high. But now I forgot them, so that's okay. So where was I before that diversion? Hmmm, oh yeah. It's kind of depressing to think about where I was at the beginning of this entry. My other issue is the fact that my mood can go from the deepest pits of depression to happy indifference with just a few puffs. Yeah it's nice, but does that mean I'm incapable of experiencing this happiness without it? No, that's not true. I can still have real fun without weed, like Friday at the Eugene Celebration. I think it's time for another hit. Now those thoughts of failure are creeping into my mind. This is bad, this line of thought can be very bad. I don't want to obsess on every little mistake that I made this weekend. I don't want to analyze every bit of social interaction that I had this weekend. So I won't, but even as I write this I'm starting to feel that overwhelming guilt that I know will come later. It's inevitable. It's funny that these emotions are so familiar to me. Planning or not planning a weekend, budgeting for it way to liberally and then breaking that budget anyway. There's the anticipation of the planning and the weekend; the countdown on the calender; the sense of optimism or angst on the way there, the freedom of being there, then inevitable plunge into. . . . well and so on. Anyway, I lost that line of thought, so it might be interesting to read later. And as suddenly as this entry began, it ends. I'm off for something more interesting to entertain my stoned mind.

As much as I've been complaining about my roommate and his girlfriend kissing, I just woke up from a dream where, in the middle of some adventure, I was kissing a girl randomly and she was kissing back and I loved it. Maybe the reason I hate the sound of their kissing is because I'm jealous. Sure I've had a few (very few) kisses in my life, but I've never been in a situation where I have a girlfriend that I can kiss whenever I want. I know this is more petty whining, but yeah I want a girl to kiss whenever I want.

I'm sad. Life is starting to feel pointless. All that I've been depending on to mask my loneliness is crumbling and it's all starting to seem so hopeless. I want to cry. I don't know. Maybe smoking weed constantly is not the answer. I know it never was, but it took the edge off of the sense of hopelessness. It's like the only thing that can fill this void is people, but people annoy me. It doesn't matter who it is, eventually they annoy me or I annoy them. I'm too whiny. I just want to curl up in a ball and cry for all that I don't have. Don't ask me to do anything about it, I can't. Even if I could, what would be the point? We all die in the end. And yet, when I'm around my family, especially my little sisters, I feel loved and I like that feeling. This is all just pointless whining, but if nobody else will listen where else do I vent my feelings of inadequacy. I just wish there were some way to end these feelings.

Another rant about life and loneliness. I am so sick of being lonely. How many personal adds to I have to post, how many do I have to answer, how many times must I be rejected before I give up. But I don't want to give up. Loneliness is becoming what death is to me: an unacceptable inevitability. Like death, when I think about how lonely I am I'm filled with an indescribable sense of fear and my mind jumps to the edge of panic. And again like death, it's seeming more and more inevitable. I've done all I can and I've had no success. So when I've tried all that I can and it doesn't work, shouldn't that be the end of it? Shouldn't I just give up and spend the rest of my life wallowing in self pity? In other, most positive news, Cassie wants to hang out again. But the trouble with that is she always has a boyfriend and I am very attracted to her. I can't get around that, or maybe she's just the best girl that's ever paid me any attention. Alas, even if she was interested in me I would find a way to ruin it, when somebody gets too close I push them away. I've said this all a hundred times and nothing's changed, but every time I feel lonely it's as bad as the first time and it never gets any easier.

God this pisses me off, and I know it's irrational to give this much of a fuck, so please don't start. You know what, this is just too irrational to put into words, and I know I have no real excuse to be mad. So to avoid the future hassle of re-reading this and be embarrassed enough to delete it, I am not going to release all these irrational emotions, I'm going to bottle them up like I know it isn't good to do and I'll release them at the most inopportune time. Most likely in the form of some incredibly rude comment with no rational provocation. I just don't know anymore, it seems like nobody gives a fuck and they haven't given a fuck for a long time and I'm just now realizing it. It's kind of embarrassing, it's really embarrassing, nobody has given a fuck for a long time and I've been too self possessed to notice. What's worse is that I don't even care about myself any more. I pretend to be all motivated and happy on the outside and that's all that matters to people. Whenever I let people see my faults they run away. Whenever I imagined love, the best part about it was complete acceptance. Love in any sense means complete acceptance of an other's faults. It means seeing somebody at their worst and loving them not despite it, but because of it. And if that isn't what love is, maybe I'm searching for something even more elusive. Maybe all you need isn't love, it's acceptance. I've been looking for that for as long as I can remember and nobody has ever truly accepted me for who I am. Including my parents and most of the rest of my family. Even when I was doing good in life, my mother would always want more. If I brought home a straight A report card, she would always ask me why I didn't take harder classes. So what if that's the only time I can remember succeeding growing up. I was a bit of a failure as a child and I'm shaping up to be a bit of a failure as an adult as well.


I'm going to go ahead and delete that last section due to the fact that it touches on the source of my irrational feelings. And there I went again wanting to rant on the source of my aggravation, but I can't. And since it seems that I won't be able to write about the source of my issues, I'm going end this here.

Out of Sheer Boredom, I Drink Alone

So I planned this week off a few months ago thinking that I could find something to do. It turns out that it's a lot easier said than done. This is only my second day into this vacation and I'm going crazy! How can anybody possibly be this bored? How much can I read, how many times can I watch the same shows over and over again. How much more entertainment can I squeeze out of the Interenet? And my God, the loneliness. So the loneliness isn't getting to me yet, but I am so fucking bored it's ridiculous.

So in the interest of ending my boredom, I drink alone. And since I don't have anybody else to talk to, I'll chronical it on my blog. My initial goal is 5 shots of Johnny Walker Red Lable. From there, I'll writer after each shot. So hold right there.

8 minutes later. My first reaction is UGH! I thought I was a fairly experienced drinker, so five shots shouldn't affect me, and it didn't, but each one of those shots went down like acid. Gross! Alas, the edge is off of the boredom. It's 10:56 right now, I think I'll take a shot ever 10-15 minutes until I'm sufficiently snockered (to use my favorite British term.) So now I light a cigarette and reflect on my feelings.

So the edge is off the boredom, only to be replaced by loneliness. It sucks, I'd much rather be bored than lonely. At least I have a bit of tiredness to go with my boredom. If I only got tired enough to sleep, then I wouldn't be bored at least for 5 or 6 hours.

So approximately 20 minutes later, I'm feeling good and buzzed, I cirtainaly wouldn't drive in this condition. I think I'll take two more shots now and two more shots at midnight. Right now though, I've forgotton all about my boredom. So I've accomplished my goal so far. Two more shots, if I don't come back after this writing, I might be dead. Ugh, I get so paranoid when I drink. A good difference between this and weed though, at least I can read when I drink, I can't do that when I smoke.

See you at midnight, right now it's 11:20. And like I said, if I don't post again by tomorrow, I might be dead.

Well it's 11:26 right now, and I must say there is a marked increased in my typos. For example, I now have a great tendency to the same word twice. Of course, I delete all my typos, by for an experiment, from this point on, I will not correct my typos. Here is goes.

So since I'm not correcting my typos, I think I'll tell you a story. Ha ha, now they go down. Now that I'm thinking about the them(* them* they go down. Well except for that last paret. Part*. So what story a shouild should* I tell you gouys? Guys*? Abd aAn Adn And* by guys I mean it in the spanish send sence* of Ustedes. It's masculine but it can be both male and female. So back to my original question, what d story to you, Do you want to hear? Hmmm, I shouldn't tell you about tan anything* too depressing, so I think I'll try to think of a good memory from my childhood, or past in general. Hmmm, my mind is wandering to Newport, I had some good times there. So yeah, I think I'll tell you about the first time I got high. Ha ha, that was a great little adventure. I went with myu grandparrents to Newport for a day and I stopped for a few hours at my cousin's house, we had smoked cigarettes in the past, but never weed. Well, onece, once* but for some reason I never felt anything. I'm thirteen at the time and my cousin and I (12 at the time I believe) walk all the way from Eads street to a few blocks from the birdge brd bridge*. I'm not sure exactly how far that is, but it's pretty far. So we walk all the way to these run down apartments by the bridge and buy weed from some guy, I really don't remember the the deatails details* of that guy but that was 8 years ago, so what do you expect. Actually it was more like nine years ago, wow that seems like just yesterday. What a disapointment. So anyways, we get the weed and go to green thumb park across from the p cop shot shop*, we wnder wai wnad wander* some trails fro for a wi while* and find a piece of dirt to smoke on. Oh my god, itg was truly amazingt, like the world was going to be okay, it didn't matter that I didn't have any friends, it didn't matter that it would be at least another 9 years bvef before* I got laid (though I dind't know it at the time) it didn't matter that weell, well* nothing mattered. It was like walking on an air matress. What was great about this, by the way we smoked out of a sea shell, just to point out a random fact. It's Nepo Newport, so what, I mean, it's kind of fitting. Anyway, we get back to his place at least an hour late, clearly baked out of our minds and then we went to Sizzler for the all you can eat salad bar etc. My god, I don't think I've eaten that much in my life. Well, at least to that point. Actually I doint t don't* remember much after that, but that's the story of my firt s first* time getting hihg. High*., High*.

BN

Now it's 10 minutes after I started that store story* and yeah I feel fd drunk, but not as intoxicated as I would off of some weed. So maybe I shouldn't take another short shot* or two like I'm tihk tihin thinking* just because my roommate l might look at l me liek like* I'm some sort of aloch c aa alcoholoic, but I di don't think I'm an a alcoholic* an alcohoic alcoholic (god that's a hard word to hi type(* type*) I wonder if my live f journal is still around. BRB,m if I'm lucky, I'll come back witha link.

Here's the linke, just a few seconds later: http://www.opendiary.com/entrylist.asp?authorcode=B219511

I'm going to wander on that in search of happier times. I'll be back.

YEah, that was just depressing. Dwee Dwelling on a past I wouldn would* ratehr forget. I have no reason to look bna back on thi that time with loni longing* I look back and relaize I never knew how good I had it. For example, that cheerleader in the fourth or fit fit fifth* entrly entry* in the blog, I should definately have goin gone* after that. I por probably gou could have ended my p;ur purityu purity* right ther. there*. Alas, I'm just a lonely little looser. But one more shot if in* fifteen more minutes might chage that. Change that*. Ha ha, now I'm borted bored( borte bored* agains, again*.

Do you think 10 shots in the space on an hour is dangerous? Yeah it probably is, so one more shot and I think I'll call it a night. So here it goes, with "What happens in Mexico" playing in the background.

Alas, an hour later and the mild euphoria of intoxication has faded into depression. There is a lesson to be learned here. And that is: weed is always better than beer. It's 12:42 AM, good night everyone.

It seems like everywhere I go I'm surrounded but love or death. I hate it. I swear that if I have to hear my roommate kiss his girlfriend one more time I'm going to say something. Okay, I won't say anything, but it's really, really driving me crazy. And yeah, I know I'm not ready for a relationship, that's fine, but it doesn't change the fact that I HATE to have rubbed in. I'm so sick of it! I know I'm going to die alone, again that's fine. If I'm not ready for a relationship at almost 22, I'm never going to be ready. I guess it was inevitable that I would die alone, but I didn't think I would give up this quickly.

Ugh, this isn't about me, this is about those fucking love birds rubbing their happiness in my face. It's not even that I'm jealous, well maybe a little, but for some reason the sound of them kissing disgusts and enrages me. I know it's irrational. Great, now I hear them FUCKING! I am getting so mad. I know I'll be able to control it and I know I'll hold my toung again because these thoughts are so irrational. Wow I turned on a little Marilyn Manson and the rage seems to go away. Wow, I'm irrational tonight.

As far as the other part of this rant, being surrounded by death. I was sitting in my room watching the Daily Show because my roommate hi-jacked the living room and for some reason a vision of my grandma's funeral popped into my head. What's weird about that is that's she's not even dead. It's like I want to cry to release all these emotions but I can't. I can't cry any more. I used to cry all the time, up through high school anyway. I remember crying at Job Corps too. But it seems like the last time I cried was during a night of drinking and I made an ass of myself. But I have to tell you, crying feels so good. It's the release of all these negative emotions that have nowhere to go.

There must be something seriously wrong with me, and I hate it.

Am I ready for a Relationship?

That's a good question, and I would have to say yes. I was ready for a relationship in middle school and high school and then at Job Corps where I spent 14 months of my life in a place where guys out numbered girls 3 to 1.

Now I can understand that I need self confidence and platonic relationships before I can seriously pursue a relationship. But I've had platonic relationships, hell I have platonic relationships with girls. "A" is a good friend, or at least I like to think of her as one even though the correct definition would probably be casual friend or good acquaintance. And I have other friends too, well maybe just one right now, but I've had friends in the past. Growing up I moved around too much to keep a big circle of friends, but where ever I went I always made a few good ones.

As far as self confidence goes, I won't lie to myself, I have extremely low self confidence. At 292 pounds what can I expect from myself. But that's something I can hide for a few hours at a time and pretend to be a normal person. Of course if somebody does hang out with me more than a few times I let my real self show through. I've always thought that if I start with a relationship and then confidence will come from that.

And I know I'm desperate, I'm getting more and more desperate and the years pass and I'm still alone and single. I guess this same theme comes up every summer as I approach my birthday (August 19th) and know that this year I failed at my life's goal again. Of course it doesn't help that every time I go to a family function everybody asks me if I've got a girlfriend yet. I want to scream at them: "Of course I haven't got a girlfriend! It's the same answer that you got when you asked when I turned 13 and it's the same answer you'll get when I turn 22!"

I guess I don't feel that I can get on with my life and pursue other goals until I loose my purity (yes virginity, but virginity sounds so ugly, purity makes it seem like I've had a choice in the matter). I know it's bad to say this, but I don't think I can ever measure up to another person until I've had a relationship. Deep down I'll always feel inferior to everybody until I've had a connection with somebody else.

So that's what it boils down to, I can never be in a relationship until I get more confident, and I can never be any more confident until I've been in a relationship. I know that shows that there is something seriously wrong with the way I view the world, but for the first time, even in this blog, I am being truly honest with myself.

For what's it's worth, and this is just trying to justify all my failed attempts at relationships, I can pretend to be self confident. I can put on a mask and pretend that I don't feel like I don't measure up to the rest of the world. I think I wear that mask fairly well, and every time I fail on an attempt at a a relationship, I think back on the whole experience and pick out what I did wrong, so I can fix it next time. Dating and relationships have been more of an academic pursuit for me than an emotional journey ever since the end of high school. In high school, I think I was just too naive to realize that I was making all these mistakes. This is rambling, the point is, I can pretend to be confident long enough not to make a horrible first impression.

And one more thing before I end this very long post, I do judge people. The line about that girl being "semi-attractive if overweight" is how I felt about her. Coming from me, that's the best I've felt about a girl that I thought was obtainable since high school.

So this rant didn't resolve anything, but it did bring to light some of my biggest character flaws. So much for self confidence.

*sigh* I'm not feeling emotional enough tonight to type a lot, but I'm bored and I'm sick of my roommate and his girlfriend. It's one thing to be perpetually pure, but whenever his girlfriend is over it's rubbed in my face.

What's worse, I can't attribute my loneliness to lack of trying. I am out there looking for girls. I'm only 21, but I post a personal add every two weeks and I check three regions of craigs list's personal adds and missed connections twice a day.

Like last week, I replied to a personal add and I got a date. It was just coffee but it was fun. The girl seemed normal and smart and semi-attractive if overweight. I asked for a second date through e-mail yesterday afternoon and I still haven't received a response. I guess any girl that I can be attracted to can never be attracted to me.

There I go again living life in blacks and whites, but there's never been any gray areas for me. Life has always been good or bad, people have either been best friends or worst enemies. I'm not one for causual aquaintences. Ugh, who cares.

I know these following thoughts are irrational and break every man law in existence, but here they are anyway. My roommate got a girlfriend and now they take over the couch every night relegating me to wander the Internet in search of something, anything to kill my resentment. Last night they came in and said they're going to watch a movie, even though I was about four minutes from The Daily Show. I know it shouldn't bother me, but it really does. It was one thing to sacrifice the couch so somebody else could get laid even as I still dwell in the land of the perpetually pure, but now that the same girl is here every night and he doesn't even fuck her every night and it's getting to be a huge inconvenience.

What am I supposed to do? If I say something to him I look like a whiny little bitch, if I don't I stew in my resentment and I start saying things that won't be forgiven.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will be released on the west coast in less than seven hours. I'm not sure if I want this post to be about the books or my journey with them. What I'm silently concerned about is if my obsessive fandom is

All your life you're told to be yourself but what happens when you realize nobody likes the real you? Then you realize that in your quest for the real you, you've lost the will to be anything else. I guess that's the point that you come to the inevitable conclusion that you will be alone for the rest of your miserable existence. That your social ineptness is simply not something that can be compensated for.

You know that even in the depths of your whining monologue that somebody will come along again. And you know that when somebody new comes along you will again find some way to sabotage it.