My speakers are down so I don’t hear the IMs. There isn’t a sound here, save for the intermittent sound of typing and the hum of the computer fan. I can barely hear myself breath.
So much math homework to do, so much English reading to catch up on, so much German to be doing right now. It’s all sitting in front of me. I just don’t feel like doing any of it.
I also should either be working on Devious, or some computer security app, or some stuff for Stepmania, or even writing parts of that story, but I’m also not in the mood.
I’m lethargic bordering on depressed, heh. I wasted some school days, I wasted one and a half off days, wasted Saturday not seeing Megan, have gotten zero production done on anything for six days, and Megan wanted to come surprise me tomorrow but fate intervened again. I’ve done it and visited her randomly a couple times, but she’s always so busy that she never gets a chance. And I, I’m so pathetic that I’ve dreamt it before, that she’d come by on some random evening just because.
I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. I know I am. Emotions always get in the way so easily.
Hopeless romantic. You know what the key section of that term is? It’s the part that says I need to hope less.
Hope less. That’s actually one of the more interesting things I’ve thought recently.
—
I occasionally question myself, if it’s worth it to be a nice guy, to try and have some sort of moral standing or whatever. Courtesy, chivalry, chastity, something. It always takes some sort of extra effort to be nice. To hold your tongue, to not bitch at everything, to not be overcritical, to take things as they are. At least… when you’re not Glenn, it seems.
It always seems like one bad thing leads to another which leads to another… and the only way out is to directly attack it yourself becuase it won’t end otherwise. And it always takes an extra amount of effort to do so.
I told Dad to shut up a few days ago while I was sick, because he was nagging me. That’s all he does. I have not heard him say anything positive to me for weeks now. I mean, the nagging would be tolerable if it was mixed with anything else, but that’s literally all he does. So I told him to shut up. And then he threw a fit and started yelling again.
Looking back on a few times, I’m actually surprised in retrospect that I haven’t snapped back and started yelling back at him. Like, everything he says seems to bring me down more and more. I mean, it just pisses me off.
He has such control issues, and everyone in the house agrees but won’t say it to him, but like, I dunno. I don’t even want to interact with him. Ever.
People may say that I’m letting myself get stepped on and whatever, but I’ll say that you haven’t tried to deal with him. Logical reasoning doesn’t work. nothing does. I mean, I could be one of those normal kids and have those good ol’ yelling contests back and forth between dad. Either way, it’s just plain unsavory.
And for the record, I’m aware that I take after him in a lot of respects. While some of it is in good regard, other things just make me disappointed in myself. It’s a shame.
—
I wanted to believe that my feelings of wanting to be with Megan were completely unrelated to libido. And amusingly, I read back on old journaling that I did, and I note the sections where I believed myself to be morally better than others, more pure or something. In the latter case, there are things to prove that it’s bullshit. And in the first case, the more I thought about it, the more it became clear that physical contact and care really is somehow attached to making me feel better emotionally… like, more secure or something. There’s something in a kiss… Naturally, part of it is that physical/sexual aspect. But there is a sense of belonging or something that comes with it.
I mean, have you ever been somewhere or done something and it seemed like everything just fell into place? To me, it seems to synthesize that feeling there.
I find it ironic to say this, because things can’t fall into place this time. In spite of that, the only thing to come out of this of positive importance is that next time will have to make up for intentions lost. I’ll still daydream about her visiting me by surprise, things didn’t change. And she can surprise me next time.
As much as I wish that I could fall asleep and wake up to it being next Saturday, I can’t afford such a thing. It’s a shame, I already lost a week, to no gain whatsoever.
