Bah humbug, am I right, kids? I'm sick of the terribly covered jingles, the shopping I've yet to do, and the sneezes that continue raping their way out of my nose, against my will. All this free time just reminds me I'm no good at anything and that I don't even have a life when school isn't interfering. But I guess I'll just be happy if these jeans I pulled out from high school (no, I haven't done laundry yet, screw me) still fit after the break ends, along with the edible-non-cafeteria-food.
I swear I had a plan for this entry...but just like everything else in life, it managed to slip right past my conscious mind...
My friends like to call me a number of names, one of which being "bitch." Now, having said that I think they mostly mean this in a joking tone after I've made one of my many offensive comments. After all, they are the same people who try and stop me when I feel like I've been super-sized a meal for free and talk the owner into letting me pay the difference. They're the same friends who see if I'm in my room so they can pour their souls out, and the same friends I force into letting me help them financially. The ones where I'm the shoulder to lean on the way out of a party where they're completely and shamelessly wasted. I guess I go to church every Sunday for my Grandma's sake, and that's nice and all, but I don't feel that nice, and I think sometimes I'm more of a bitch than they give me credit for.
Save that dreaded-regretted incident in middle school, I certainly used to be a fairly selfless person, but something happened since and I lose my temper and I use them back and I don't offer to do the things I should be doing--it's like I got turned onto this me-phase and I'm not even good at it, obviously. I'm a mess. I guess that's what this season really is all about, reminding us that we're all shitty people and should do a lot more for others (until New Year's). I picked up the paintbrush for the first time in a long time today, and it looked terrible and I was like a lost puppy following my mom around, asking for help, but I was making a present and it felt good, you know? I guess you don't have to give much, not money, not even necessarily time, but thought. It's the thought that counts, and that's so true...I only wish I could think to do these things for others more.
Recently, someone jokingly asked me how I even still had friends, and sometimes, really, I wonder that, too. I should be thankful yet I find myself critical. I guess I've just been in a permanent bad mood for a while.
I blame it on men.
...seriously, I'm only half-joking about that. But I'll be more specific and say those of my choice, not all of you, because that would be "generalizing" and a certain friend of mine might try and call me out on it.
I guess when they sewed me back up, I was cured alright, but only puking my temper on other people. Poor mom.
Maybe I've just been having this never-ending breakdown for a long time, maybe this is my mid-life crisis and I'm dying at 40. The only people I've found myself being nice to the past year are the ones who are already dead. I'm not being dramatic. I made a rock-cross for my headstone-less nephew, "talk" to my big brother and steal his flowers for his empty neighbor's vase. You don't see me doing that kind of shit for living souls, unless you count the time I printed and delivered my roommate's script to class.
Often times, on the way home from my friend's late at night, I would find myself pulling over to check up on the graves, maybe say a word or two. But one time a month or so ago, I didn't even consciously do so...I just fell down and started crying and didn't think about a thing. How emo-tastic is that? Can't you see that being the opening scene of some bad horror remake? This girl, flailing around in front of a tombstone just balling? I don't really know why, but I think that's something you'd do in a mid-life crisis.
Ha, sometimes I'm too open for my own good. I guess it makes the "mystery" disappear, maybe that's why everyone else disappears, boredom, they know it all, or maybe they're just too confused by it or I'm a broken pathetic record.
I don't know why I said anything I have in this post and I feel it's more embarrassing than enlightening and yet I'll probably still post it because that's what I do. Sometimes I try to embarrass myself. I'm strange like that. I'd rather point it out before someone else, though.
I could probably use a change, eh? But I always have an excuse why not to when I finally do have one--and sometimes I can't tell if I'm just arguing with myself or being legitimate. I could go out of the country for a semester, but then I'm stuck and that's a long time and blah and what if something happens and (the legitimate one) it makes it very hard for applying to grad school due to bad timing--yet I was so excited at one point...And I find myself feeling lonely at times, yet when someone offers to fill the empty seat I somehow manage to usually scare them away and I often think it's on purpose. It's like I want myself to suffer, I keep holding out for something to tear it's path into my way, but it won't.
I'd wait for the lion, I guess. And I've managed to make this all about me yet again. Funny thing, how blogs do that.
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