Its hard enough i cant fill your expectations.
Its bad enough i dont succeed.
Its sad that im never the best
I just wished you could see.
Why did you have to hurt me for?
Words burn just as hard,
as the pain i felt as i child,
of makeshift weapons of past.
Please dont pick on the little things
That is who and what i am
i dont know what im here for
i dont know how i can
I havent cried for so song.
But in the car, when dad was putting me down on how “fucking dissapointed” he was about me. I think i just snapped in the wrong way.
Instead of swearing back as i usually do i sat their quiet and unassuming.
And i was on the verge of tears, but i didnt cry. I just had that sensation of crying. But i sat there, in silence, driving that car.
Im a failure, a mess, someone who isnt dependable, a lazy little girl who cant stand on her two feet, a waste of his time.
Im not okay with that at all, but i dont know what to say.
I really dont.
Im so tired these days that i get so pissed off.
Dad has been giving me a load of bull, but i dont have the energy to give a fuck.
I need sleep, and a brief respite
Why do i post about things so private and intimate about myself at vulnerable times like these?
I guess its a diary of some purpose.
I dont want to burden or talk to someone about it, its not something i want to directly acknowledge.
As long as the problem exists like this, it cant be real.
Recently too many people have come up to me with their problems, i see too many problems, i get math problems, problems everywhere.
I dont want to talk about it face to face to someone, i dont want to be judged directly.
I dont know what the fuck im on about. Its one of my low days, and im on a fucking tangent.
I really did.
I thought that time would put an end to my state of mind, that it was just negative thinking.
I just fucking hate myself.
Sometimes i get wild fantasys of killing myself in the most twisted way. Or trying to lose my humanity.
I think ive lost my humanity,
its just not completely gone yet.
I really dont want to live.
The truth is, i want everyone to recognise me as Gary, so that i begin to alter and remove my identity.
My own perception of who i am anymore, and who i am to others.
You cannot miss something you cant name. It is like trying to catch smoke i would think.
Things are working out fine.
Promise not to laugh?
Whenever i saw her car drive by i would stare long and hard into the windows. Even though i saw nothing i hoped she looked back when she saw me.
I always searched for that yellow car when i walked home from school. Always seeing a flash of hair as it went by.
Now when i see that car, i remember her hair. And i realise that she lied about loving me from the start.
How funny is that?
Its been a long few months since ive sat down and wrote another blog post on a train. And to be honest
any nostalgia or goodwill to the experience.
Cause since after a year i feel
ive become accustomed to waiting everywhere.
Waiting at a trainstop, waiting for my classes, waiting for my day to end and especially waiting for my conciousness to kick in at 6:00 am in the morning so
make it into my math classes.
I really have no clue how i to
and it feels like that im wasting so much precious time just to get nowhere.
Aimless.
Sooner or later though, ill work out what i want to do during these waiting times. Maybe ill finally use that notebook to write that story i keep putting aside, maybe ill try and draw for fun, maybe ill start taking my music
In any case, i just dont know which to prioritse, and i fear i may end up sitting like this forever, twiddling my thumbs.
So yes, i have been on hiatus.
Thanks for welcoming me back.
Anyhow, how about this weather? Isn’t it divine? I freaking hate it to bits! To be honest i enjoy a bit of rain and shine, but not so much of heat waves threatening to set my glass of milk on fire.
I mean it so hot, i had to stop wearing pants and wear shorts instead. I never wear shorts! They are like the worst fashion statement ever. As a guy, i refuse to expose my leg hair to innocent young maidens. And in any case, i don’t believe any girl in the world has a thing for guys with leg hair. And the same goes for guys without hairy legs.
Why is that? That’s the oddest preference ever.
And i dont think there can be ever a balance of the two, so god invented pants. Guys look good in a pair of jeans. Not tight denim shorts. True story.
For us, its easy for our preference of girls. Any girl with hairless legs gets a thumbs up any day. But seriously, i actually fancy hairy girls, cause they’re the most lively in a relationship. In fact, girls with some hair actually is a better thing than none, because they aren’t frail and bleached white like them princesses.
In fact when it comes to standards i’m pretty easy going so it doesn’t matter anyhow as long as its a girl.
Nothing get’s a guy going than a nice sweaty girl in a pair of mechanic overalls.
mmmm HOT DAMN.
It’s always like this.
I am always at some point in life that involves a dilemma, girl or family spat. And to be honest i dont know why i continue to do so. its like i have a tendency to just rant on about anything that comes into mind. But i think that is the case.
I feel so..normal.
Who knew that being normal would be so stressful though. i sometimes wish i was some sort of secret agent, or spy, or famous person. I think im suited to a life of drama.
Anyway, thinking about this makes me tired.
Night.
Does it ever make you wonder when he refers himself in third person? Do you wonder if it is all but an attempt to appear like some sort of philosopher that spins a web of intellectual bullshit just so you can be please and appease?
You want to say, ‘fuck off, you know that i dont really care for what you think because it’s just a waste of my time’
In fact, you have to admit, everything is a waste of your time if it doesnt pertain to you.
He really is a pretentious dick.
I mean what kind of person thinks rewording their phrases into bits and pieces of complex and confusing words would make other people like him?
But you already know that the only way to do it right is to swear a bit, say a smart word or two to show how well read you are but not so snobbish as to show it off.
Its all an act, pretending you are not aware that you are so well spoken, intentionally throwing in a word nobody really knows just so you seem modest.
Honey, you dont have to be so belligerent because nobody gives a fuck.
We’re secretly all doing the same thing.
Isnt it weird, to write a blog that doesn’t go anywhere?
In fact if i had to describe it, my blog is more of a endless diary, where i can write whatever comes to my mind and feel happy that the temporary memory, emotion can be written down and kept forever. No matter how uncomfortable or embarrassing.
Well, i’d like to think that this blog has one single purpose in mind. To find a girlfriend.
When i get there, i wont need this blog anymore, not unless i have another heartbreak, or i turn 17 again.
In fact in relation to the best emotion rollercoaster ever, i think i have had my fill being 17.
Yeah.
It you say boots and cats really fast you are one step towards being a pro beat boxer.
Hey, why did you stop smiling?
It seems a certain trait in the way i conduct my daily things that has caught my attention today.
It seems i tend to alternate between being completely relaxed and carefree at importune times, and stress and fret.
Right now I have no clue whether i am fretting or carefree right now. It it seems obvious that i should be revising for my exam tomorrow its not.
I probably couldn’t care less. Possibly due to the fact that i just cant decide whether this is important to me. Such is the dilemma for the man who does not know where his priorities lie.
A reason to live? Its possible i have one, i just dont know what. I do know that i would not like the experience of dying, So that must be the reason.
But a reason to do anything in this life? Pointless.
At one point, i felt an extreme sense of altruism, and i suppose social work would have been suitable for that mindset. But even that emotion isn’t real anymore.
It must be nice to be able to release sadness and frustration in one go.
I dont have any empathy for this anymore.
Somehow, it feels deceiving, to think about things in the future when i should be counting my blessings.
During Christmas day, i went over to my mate’s house. And hoping to make some sort of memory i decided to dress up nicely so that i could look presentable. But during the party, i realised i was the only one who dressed up. Everyone else was casual looking and i felt out of place.
The same thing happened at my family get-together at my cousin Liz’s place. I had donned shoes, pants, shirt and vest all in black, accentuated by a red tie.
In fact, all the parties i have been gone at i have dressed up to the best i could.
And surprisingly, i felt like i looked the stupidest.
I came across a couple of guides written by guys for talking to girls and finding a serious or casual girlfriend.
Without any bias i read them all the same, thinking over their thoughts rather than simply rejecting them. Since i know, everything must be taken with a grain of salt.
I think a lot of my blogs, a lot of my thoughts and memories have been of regret. Because as soon as i do it i wished i had done something else. And because of that i know there is a fine line between not giving a shit about anything and accepting your regrets. The only difference is one is much more easier.
Now i regret reciprocating affections from former friends, and enacting out decisions that would have changed circumstances, and carrying out resolutions that i keep repeating to myself. But there are only a select few that i have carried to this day, as balls and chains, hungry ghosts, demons and whatever else we call our past.
Some i choose not to remember, some i keep with me until the day i die, and some i learn as experience.
This little idea has me in its clutches, and i feel the need to live up to it, to have it as a motto.
