Sun, Sep. 16th, 2007, 01:21 am
Christ. I help people, listen to them, give them advice - but there's never anyone there for me when I need those things.
I've always had people tell me that being a friend is a two way thing, same as with respect - you're there for a friend, they're there for you. I don't know why I've had such trouble finding someone who could even do that on a regular basis.
If I'm not in a good mood and not in a mood to talk, guess what - don't push, or I will lash out. How hard is that to figure out? Complain about the fact that I lash out when it's pretty obvious that I don't want to be pushed, and guess what - I'll lash out even more.
I have to take your shit attitude and mood swings and not say a thing - guess what, the least you could do is return the fucking favor.
The more it goes, the more I feel like this city no longer holds anything for me. I love it dearly and deeply - it's home, but like so many people in my life I've cared about, it's at best indifferent, at worse hates me. I thing I will take the time to get those last 6 credits needed for my diploma, and then get the fuck out. What's the point in staying in someplace where you're not wanted?
The booming bass,
the throbbing echoes of over-played songs,
as tired as those who dance to them,
their crushed bodies exuding sweat, loneliness and desperation,
as the cast a tired line for the umpteenth time,
hoping against hope to change their fortune and find someone for thi night.
Under the strobing and pulsating lights,
the bodies of the desperate gather,
their pathetic search for a warm body with who to share their bed for a night,
a momentary respite from the drudgery of their daily lives.
From the outside, looking in,
the mass of those engaged in such a fruitless attempt appear as no more than an ungainly throng of limbs,
one half skinnier than a skeleton picked clean by vultures,
the other fatter than an oxen left to graze at an all-you-can-eat buffet hosted by McDonalds for a few days too many.
In the end, what's the point?
Strains of the song to which the title of this post makes a reference to come to mind as I write this entry.
Spent an okay day for the most part - people's plans kept changing on me, and I've had that annoyingly nagging feeling that the universe was about to kick me in the crotch. Again.
First birthday I went to today was fine and miserable all at once. Felt like the outsider I was. Decided to leave early in order not to miss the second birthday. Turned out I should not've hurried. Had to leave before the person arrived, as I was to meet other friends somewhere else.
They were there, only one of them left to return to the point I had just come from. Exhausted and drained, annoyed at the bad music and the vibes I was getting, I decide to head home. End up waiting far too long in Cote-Vertu because some asshole driver can't wait for 2 minutes when he knows that the bus which brings in most of his passengers has to take a detour due to roadwork.
Wound up getting spat on (nice big loogie, good aim) by some wigga/gangsta-wannabe as he left the bus. And as much as a slight part of me is screaming bloody murder, I just can't feel angry enough. I. Just. Can't. Bring. Myself. To. Care.
For some reason, I keep thinking that this entire evening could resume the way my life has been for as long as I can remember.
I just feel so tired right now. My bed and my bottle of vodka are calling...
It's funny how many times I've seen women I was interested in wind up with my best buddies,
It's funny how many times I've been told I'm an awesome guy yet could never be more than a friend,
It's funny how the people you feel the most strongly about, and who you'd like to have in your life as "that special someone" is a friend who refuses to see you as anything but,
It's funny how hard it is to take when someone you trust breaks that trust doing what he felt was right,
It's funny how easy it is to turn your back on someone you trusted and who broke that trust stupidly,
It's funny how futile it all seems in that one instant of clarity,
It's funny how easy it is to pretend everything is right when all you want to do is scream out in pain and fear at the sight of it all,
It's funny how easy it is to convince yourself that you have to be strong and bear it with a grin,
It's funny how easy it is to forget how shaky you are, when you have someone to hold up and who holds you up,
It's funny how fast it all falls down when the trust of that person turns to hatred and loathing,
It's funny what you'd be willing to do to escape the guilt of having caused that,
It's funny how, in the end, it'll only end up repeating itself, over and over,
It's funny how, when looking back, I realize it's still the same thing that I've been through, over and over,
It's funny how all of this, being repeated over and over, has worn me out,
It's funny how, in the end, I am simply nothing,
It's funny how it cost me all I held dear to realize that.
I will laugh now, and never stop my roaring laughter, as I fear that if I did, I could never stop my tears.
I used to lash out at the world and was told by someone I trusted that it would bring me hurt,
I was honest and direct about something that festered inside me, and was rewarded with such hatred and loathing that my heart and soul were rent to pieces on the spot.
I tried to numb the pain, I lashed in - honesty and lashing out showing what they could do. And I lost it all.
Was there ever a right choice?
It is our actions that define who we are, in the ned, as they are what people around us perceive, rather than intent.
I've been told recently that I wander in and out of people's lives, never letting people know how long I'll hang around them.
There are a few reasons for that: people are unreliable, untrustworthy, irresponsible and disrespectful. In short, people piss me off.
Not that they aren't nice people - their intents are nothing but nice: they want to hang out, they want to go out have coffee, they want to have nights spent playing games, they want to see me stay forever: as a boyfriend, as a lover, as a friend.
Their actions, however, don't match their intents: lame excuses, half-assed reasons, ridiculous explanations.
I've got two words for them, two words they've very often said to me:
Yeah, fuck it - I don't need you pricks in my life. Take a moment out of your self-important lazy little life of yours to think about this: I DON'T NEED YOU. NOT ANY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. I was alone before you came along and I'll be alone after you'll have left. I'm a "wanderer" I've been alone for longer than I can remember or care about. You aren't necessary in my life.
Think about that for a while.
Now here's two more words for you profiteering bastards out there:
I'm sick of hearing you fuckers whine about how things aren't going well for you, when you just deal out the same crap you're complaining about to everyone around you that you supposedly care about.
I don't hate you guys (yet) - heck, I like you guys, I mean, I AM giving you jackasses a chance, aren't I?
Yeah, I'm blunt, acid and hurtful, but you know what? I'm honest about this and if you feel like I'm talking about you, maybe, just MAYBE, you should think about making an effort and putting concrete actions behind your intents...