I'm having one of those moments where for multiple reasons (some probably more stupid and insignificant than others) I just want to sob and sob and sob. There's a quote somewhere by someone that goes along the lines of 'those that cry don't do it because they're weak, it's because they've been strong for too long'.
But I'm not crying.
I didn't really cry during the movie.
But my heart was so touched.
I'm starting to wonder if maybe it's not an emotional problem that I have but a physical one. Perhaps there's something wrong with my tear ducts, or the area of the brain that controls emotion? Why else can't I cry? Why can I never go further than water welling up in my eyes, only to seep back into the pours they came from?
I wish I knew, I wish I had the intelligence to just know the answers to everything, to life for a start.
So would everyone though, I'm sure.
I miss my friends. I hate so much that one of them has bluntly stated to me countless times now that he/she has no regrets about leaving, that he/she doesn't miss us much, that she loves her new life so much, that she feels so free...
Do I feel...regret?
Yes. Regret that I never even looked around at other schools, at colleges. Because, all emotion aside, here at the Floyd, everything is so strictly regimented and controlled, just like home.
Just like home.
And I want to get out of 'home', because I don't identify with my 'home' anymore, with my parents, with my family, with not one single fucking member of my fucking family. I love some of them so much, but at the same time I wish I never had to see any of them again...
How heartless am I? To my parents, I'm just being ridiculous, I'm in a 'bad mood', I'm having a 'teenage rant'. No I am fucking well not.
I am being heartless.
If I actually moved to Canada, say I DID save enough money (with a theoretical job that I don't have yet) for my parents to pay for the rest and I DID get a scholarship or at least partial one or in some way find the financial means to look after myself properly...
I'd be alone. A strange concept, not unfamiliar, but strange.
I already miss my friends that have moved away like crazy, but at the same time there's this horrific part of me that's thinking 'did you ever really like them, did they ever really like YOU? With all the horrible looks and patronising, condesending, demeaning things they said to you.... Do you still miss them the way you pictured missing them long ago, or do you feel like a curtain has been lifted away from your eyes, like the time you spend with them now is a more accurate representation of what they should mean to you?: good people, nice people, but always nice to you?...
Talking to myself, me and my own hater troll have mixed into one probably.
I just want to cause myself some horrible, heartaching pain, because that's all that I deserve for feeling what I feel...
Nothing, except for a few feelings on the negative spectrum...
Oh here we go: tears well up, tears recede, like they decided that the reason wasn't actually good enough.
The experience of 'life', of being 'human' sucks oh so much. Because so recently I had such an amazing, fun night where I felt truly perfect and so blissfully free.
But there was only three other people with me.
What does that say about me?
So many thing probably. I'm just too stupid to think of what these things are.
Too inferior. (Ugh! My IB class, all so fucking einstein like, only one other guy and a couple of girls that are as stupid or more stupid than me, and unfortunately, I don't like any of them) No skills. Nothing that I'm good at.
Fucking jealous, vain, egotistical, stupid freak.
That's what I am.
I suppose that's why deep down I feel like it would be best if I lived somewhere where I was on my own, where it would be hard for people to reach me, where I would be forced to stay alone. A country where I don't have to learn a new language, because I'm too lazy for that, that way, I can choose however much I want to participate in society.
You see, if I lived alone, in Canada, America, Australia, some far away place like them, I won't want to make any new friends, because all the ones I've had so far seem to good to replace, also I can let them get on with their lives, I won't be a distraction, an emotional burden.
Just a (hopefully happy) memory.
Of course I'll still get a good job, one that pays more than I need for a decent standard of living. I'll become engrossed in my work, earn enough money for an expensive, enviromentally friendly car, donate loads of money to developmental charities (and maybe a little bit to emergency charities too) and win the employee of the month award or something minor like that.
And that will be it, no more family, no more friends, maybe when I get to my late thirties or early forties (because by then I'll already be bored stupid of being alone but unwilling to ruin society by entering in it), I'll end it. I'll write some big fancy apology letter that means little to my friends and family, so they have something bittersweet to hold onto, but why would I even do that? It would just make them hate me for abandoning them, or hate themselves for not trying enough to get through to me....
I'm sorry everyone for tricking you into thinking I'm someone worth caring about.
Just forget about me now, keep whatever happy memories of me that remain if you will, but don't continue the struggle. Let go of the rope that has me attached to it. Fall into the safety net. Climb off.
And make the most of your life.
I love you, or at least wish I could,
'We only except the love that we think we deserve'. My new favourite quote of all time.
None. I deserve none, is the answer, and it's impossibly difficult to understand why.