I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this blog. I update it so infrequently that people aren't really checking it anymore, anyway. I might start another one that is more about my thoughts and not so much about my life. I don't like talking about my life, because most of the people in my life have access to this blog, and it's not like I can really talk about them. And of course I'm always worried about someone I know down here stumbling across it and finding something that hurts his/her feelings.
So how am I, you ask? Kind of bipolar these days. I always feel either very happy or almost scarily depressed. People always say you have to face your demons to get rid of them, but it seems when I face them, they just want to hang around more. I've been trying to deal with a lot of the doubt and self-hatred that has been plaguing me my whole life, but I'm only exaggerating the problem. I feel extremely uneasy whenever I'm alone, but when I'm with other people, I often can't wait to get away. I'm in love with everybody and I can't have anybody; I constantly feel amazed when friends and lovers show signs that they actually do care about me, and I secretly wonder what's wrong with them for liking me in the first place. I'm always ready to sabotage myself by saying the wrong thing, knowing what it will cost me, but convincing myself that "honesty" is always worth the sacrifice. I walk around most of the time feeling raw and bruised, and it's so, so easy to hurt me. It takes nothing: a careless word, an unreturned phone call, a look, and instantly I'm a quivering mass of insecurity and resentment. I try to see pain coming 100 miles away and cut off whatever might cause it before it can reach me. I feel uncreative, unspecial, and unimportant. More than anything, I feel alone. I feel alone in crowds, in rooms full of friends, during intimate coffee shop conversations, in the arms of lovers, and in my pathetic cubicle at work. Pretending to be happy leaves me exhausted, and even the frequent bursts of happiness and creativity that punctuate my week seem to highlight the low points even more.
Basically, I'm a whiny, obsessive mess who deseves absolutely no pity. So now I'll post some bullshit lyrics that supposedly sum up how I feel better than I can express it.
Candy says, I've come to hate my body And all that it requires in this world Candy says, I'd like to know completely What others so discreetly talk about I'm gonna watch the blue birds fly over my shoulder I'm gonna watch 'em pass me by maybe when I'm older What do you think I'd see if I could walk away from me? Candy says, I hate the quiet places That cause the smallest taste of what will be Candy says, I hate the big decisions That cause endless revisions in my mind I'm gonna watch the blue birds fly over my shoulder I'm gonna watch 'em pass me by maybe when I'm older What do you think I'd see if I could walk away from me?
