I’m really tired thinking of the future. It’s all the same worries anyway, whether I’ll be accepted, whether I have made the right choices. Who the fuck cares. Seriously. Sitting here in front of my bloody laptop trying to give a shit about my life is just plain taxing and nauseating. Vomiting my thoughts onto a blog does make me feel a little better though. It’s like sending those jarring thoughts into a void. Speaking of which, where do things in a black hole go to anyway? I read somewhere that it works like a teleport and so there must be a “white” hole which spews all that nonsense out. (Wow what intellectual depth you’re showing, Rach. Good work. At this rate, you’ll be hurling conspiracy theories about life on other planets to your poor unfortunate readers in no time.)
A friend disappointed me recently. Right until then, I had honestly did my best trying to like her, but it was still a little like trying to control a gag reflex. My awkwardness around her must have shown through. We liked each other genuinely in the past, at least for a little while. That’s why I’m oddly emotional and confused. It's a disaster of a friendship waiting to happen. Despite the obvious repel, I still find myself admiring her. For her drive mostly. But I don't want to be her. It's beacuse of this stubborn smidgeon of self-respect I have left of myself regarding the way I think and judge things. It's definitely not a good thing, but it's not all that bad.
Most of my close friends have been busy this past week, so loneliness coupled with this onslaught of emo and fear has neither been normal nor healthy. I’ve been feeling like throwing up these couple of days. It doesn't help that I feel the need to cry till I lose consciousness. It’s that bad. But being as emotionally dead as I am, it’s not possible. Everything I say is so contradictory. Want to hear what’s funny? I can fake cry, but I can’t really cry. Even when I feel as tangled as I do now. Actually meaning what I feel is hard. It’s suffocating keeping all this trashy emotions inside but I CAN’T GET THEM OUT.
Okay honestly? I’m hurt. There I said it. I’m intensely afraid of rejection and all the isolation it entails. I want people to want to be with me even if the pretense is so uncredible that I should be more alone than I once was. I’m vain to the point that self-preservation is my objective in every relationship. I want freedom, but not the constraints it holds. I want it all even at the expense of what I have now. I could resort to the most evil, underhand methods for the values that are not right to begin with.
I feel maligned and a little humiliated by her response. By how she thinks she knows all of who I am and has already judged my worth. Terrified by this side of weakness I never knew. Is this how Peter Keating felt when he killed that man? Crushing regret and overwhelming nausea. I want to cry so badly. Like the time I drank too much vodka and couldn’t throw up. Except much worse. You know you’ll make it through a bad hangover, but it gets messy when the end is nowhere in sight.
Listen to yourself. The melodrama becomes you.
