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Dec. 24th, 2001
There are so many people that I pity.
Dec. 24th, 2001 03:35 pmYeah, life sucks a lot sometimes. Been there, done that, fell into the cesspool when I was trying to climb back out. Often felt like I didn't have a friend in the world, or those that were around couldn't/didn't/wouldn't care. Welcome to teenage angst.
And here I am now. Still fairly certain that not many people can care. Mainly because they don't understand. What makes me tick, what makes me happy. Usually two seperate things. If I were to quiz you, most of you would probably say anime or sugar, to both. All of the above.
Why is it that I feel so old and yet so young? It frustrates me... for I do not feel like an "adult", though I will be by society's standards in one day less eight months; university is a dark blot in the future which draws ever-closer; and I certainly have a very adult mentality in some scenarios. (Welcome to perverthood, this is your badge.) But nor do I feel like a "child", though I watch anime (childish by some standards), laugh at silly, random things, and delight in the most random things. I also still don't understand this "love" thing. It may be important to me - more than perhaps anyone knows - but I don't understand it, and people don't understand my concept of it. Flirting doesn't equal love. Ever. And jealousy is likely the most useless emotion I've ever come in contact with. Not that I'm a stranger to it; but I gave up on it long ago. That's a path that leads nowhere. There are so many people I could be jealous of, but I'm not, and I refuse to be. And then there are those that I pity... For various reasons, and likely not who you think, or why you think it's them.
I'm happy with where I am, with who I am, and this may be the first time I've been able to say that in... five years? Six, seven? Seventeen? No, perhaps not that long, but certainly at least since the beginning of high school, probably since the beginning of middle school, possibly as far back as elementary school. It's rather sad.
Can you say you know the real me? You may know the hyper one - the flirt, the goof, the random; or the depressed one - the suicidal, the angry, the hurt. The kind and the mean, the happy and the sad - but if you truly understood me, you'd be one in 6,194,640,790.
You'd have to be me.
That's what I love about my creations. They may be stubborn, and they may resist, but I can help them grow with one another. I can feed my desire for fairy-tale endings with them. And I never have to worry that they'll leave me (though they do take the occasional prolonged vacation)...
Wouldn't it be great if no one ever got offended,
Wouldn't it be great to say what's really on your mind
I've always said all the rules are made for bending
And if I let my hair down, would that be such a crime?
Be good, okay?
Merry Christmas, all.
And here I am now. Still fairly certain that not many people can care. Mainly because they don't understand. What makes me tick, what makes me happy. Usually two seperate things. If I were to quiz you, most of you would probably say anime or sugar, to both. All of the above.
Why is it that I feel so old and yet so young? It frustrates me... for I do not feel like an "adult", though I will be by society's standards in one day less eight months; university is a dark blot in the future which draws ever-closer; and I certainly have a very adult mentality in some scenarios. (Welcome to perverthood, this is your badge.) But nor do I feel like a "child", though I watch anime (childish by some standards), laugh at silly, random things, and delight in the most random things. I also still don't understand this "love" thing. It may be important to me - more than perhaps anyone knows - but I don't understand it, and people don't understand my concept of it. Flirting doesn't equal love. Ever. And jealousy is likely the most useless emotion I've ever come in contact with. Not that I'm a stranger to it; but I gave up on it long ago. That's a path that leads nowhere. There are so many people I could be jealous of, but I'm not, and I refuse to be. And then there are those that I pity... For various reasons, and likely not who you think, or why you think it's them.
I'm happy with where I am, with who I am, and this may be the first time I've been able to say that in... five years? Six, seven? Seventeen? No, perhaps not that long, but certainly at least since the beginning of high school, probably since the beginning of middle school, possibly as far back as elementary school. It's rather sad.
Can you say you know the real me? You may know the hyper one - the flirt, the goof, the random; or the depressed one - the suicidal, the angry, the hurt. The kind and the mean, the happy and the sad - but if you truly understood me, you'd be one in 6,194,640,790.
You'd have to be me.
That's what I love about my creations. They may be stubborn, and they may resist, but I can help them grow with one another. I can feed my desire for fairy-tale endings with them. And I never have to worry that they'll leave me (though they do take the occasional prolonged vacation)...
Wouldn't it be great if no one ever got offended,
Wouldn't it be great to say what's really on your mind
I've always said all the rules are made for bending
And if I let my hair down, would that be such a crime?
Be good, okay?
Merry Christmas, all.
