Well, we're getting a literary magazine club toghether. So, I can finally get something published...
... Do I really want to have anything of mine read. Everything I write is so personal... Do I want to put my soul under the microscope and allow everyone to read my deepest wishes, see me for who I am?
This facade of happiness does me no good. I pretend to be ecstatic. I'm depressed. Although today I'm better than yesterday. I broke down and watched two eps of chobits. I'm going to be so behind now, but it's a price worth happiness. Even if it's just temporary...
I'm going to lay it out there. I know what I want deep inside, so I'll tell all five of my readers...
I want to be asked to the Sadie Hawkins' dance.
I want to dance a night of romance.
I know it's shallow.
But I want to know how it feels to have someone stare in my eyes and confess their love, even if it's just some superficial weeklong highschool kinda thing.
I've had it happen before, but...
Let me put it this way... The one I love is only here on gaia. I don't know her in real life, but... I really love her... She loves me too... I think. I hope.
The last couple of days have been a nightmare. I haven't had any contact with her at all... It's tearing me up...
What if something happened?
What if she can't ever talk to me again?
What if?
I know it's selfish, but I really care about her.
And, once again I have written a post that I don't think I should submit. But, I'm going to anyways. Maybe it'll help decipher my depression...
Or maybe this isn't why I'm upset.
Sure, It's a factor, but...
Maybe It's because I look around me, and I see the future. Not literally, but I mean, I'm able to see that my friends are going to be successful in life... All of them are going to fufill their dreams. Except CJ, but I wouldn't wish to see the future if he commanded any military body...
Where do I see myself?
I see my self alone. A hermit. Away from everyone else. Locked up alone with my bitterness. Away from society, my only company being shattered hopes, and annihalated dreams. There's going to be a desk. On the desk, hate letters. In the trash can, rejection letters. The works that I get published don't give anyone hope. They hurt. They scar. I picture myself getting up, and writing my bitterness out. Inflicting it on the world.
How terrible...
I don't want to hurt anyone. Ever. I.. I wouldn't be able to look at myself the same way. Oh God... If I went into the military, I wouldn't last. The thought of killing... Just, don't let them put in a draft... I couldn't...
When I try to seriously tell someone about my fear of killing. My fear of inflicting pain. They call me a hippie or something stupid. They think I'm joking....
Now, as I look at this, I realize it's just a continuation of all that was written two days ago. It's me. Under a magnifying glass. Exposed for the world to see.
And yet, there's a different side to me. There's an anger as well. Something that wants to finally lash out at all the bullies. Fight the biggest one one on one. Let my fists fly, fight ferociously. Take them down. I want them to stop making fun of me... I want them to stop making fun of everyone...
Do you ever have days where you're tired of being you? Where you wish that you were someone else. ANYONE else. Just even for a little while? Do you ever want to be able to take control of your emotions? To only be sad when you're alone. So no one can see? To be happy when everyone else is around, and only happy amongst company? It's called "acting." It'll let you get rid of those desires. And be applauded for it.
...Or laughed at for it.
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Unraveling the "enigma" that's me.
Lol. When I am bored, I shall return. Because all you noobs are a plague. And someone must exterminate them.
Comment on my sig and you DIE.
Comment on my sig and you DIE.
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Spence Wind Community Member |
Reilora
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Spence Wind
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Saria513 Community Member |
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I just hope your life works out, however corny that may sound. (Probably very.) With your love on Gaia, and your future. Somehow I can't see you as the hermit type. Nor can I see you as writing bitter, hate-filled literature. Or as a soldier, or letting loose and hitting a bully. You've too much control for that, too much goodness in you for that. There are ways to resist without violence. I trust you'll find that way. Your way.
Best of luck, Jordan.