Note: I no longer blog here, and have not posted here since the mid 2010's. (😱) Please check out the homepage, which probably has links to more recent projects, photography, and (perhaps someday) writing.

The second day of the new semester. I'd been so high on life and anxious to get back into a social swing of things, that I'd forgotten why I'd considered myself a loner for such a time. No, no, I know, I need a better social life, and Chris and I both decided it was the lack of a "best friend" of sorts I had. I decided I'd work on a better social life for the new year, but already I'm finding myself being controlled and shaped by the shyiness and inhibition within me.

There's the matter of prejudice, which until now, I'd almost completely forgotten. It's the way I fucking look, or my social background, isn't it? There's this Justin character at my lunch shift this semester, who (even though it's been just two days) basically fucks around with myself and the others I hang with at lunch, by sarcastically talking about gaming, (in the nerdy fashion) and "let's be best friends," or some bullshit like that. It's in his voice: he's fucking with us, and he's mocking us. There's is no proof against it.

I'm far too self-concious. WHich could be good, considering, I didn't start a fight with that Justin just yet. But, I never speak my mind in the open, unless I have a mental game plan. I don't act like someone else really, I just hold the "real" me in. Chris considers this: if both of us had a comple glasses of wine, we'd both be loosned of our inhibitions and still be sober enough to stick around and be level-headed with our own opinions. I wish I could do this, because right now, I'm beginning to feel empty.

It's like I said: lack of best friend (or girlfriend, which I initially thought). Probably both. At my age, I'm already becoming more independent from my family. But that adds to the problem of me having been a family kid my whole life, and not getting really "out" for quite a bit in my life. I really need someone to spill my guts on. To simply talk about whatever I want to talk about. And there's that thing called love. I dunno. I just feel like I really don't have anyone who understands me or cares for me, at that. Right now, the lyrics of "My December" ring clear to my soul.

"And I'd give it all away // just to have somewhere to go to // give it all away // to have someone to come home to."

How do I know my inhibitions are killing me? Because I felt life without it. Met a friend I didn't feel inhibitions with. Nothing to fear from messing up, knowing I couldn't. As in Avril Lavigne's "Naked," "the walls just disappeared." We clicked so fast, and it was great. And that's why I was high on life. Before I came back.

IMO, school is harder than the real world. You have the same 2700+ other people around you for a few years. (My school's probably largest or second largest in the state. I figure about 900 people per grade. I don't figure graduations, however. It's still 2700 people technically.) You can't fuck up. Whereas in the outside world, you have strangers who you'll never see again, a hundred, maybe a few hundred or more who'll see you at least once a week, and then the small group you see or interact with all the time. Perhaps it's similar to school, but the "strangers" are the same people for 4 years; not a "I'll never see these people again, who cares" group. And people are stupider where I go to. That makes the difference, too, when you've got an IQ of 134, and you're damn sure that no one at your grade level at your school matches that. Damn sure.

After writing this far, I feel much better and less stressed than I used to. But I still miss that "one person who clicked with me" and the fact that regardless of my attitude, life must move on. I still hink I need that someone to talk to, that'll at least listen and try to understand. Rather than writing this here. I'd be so much cooler if I could just go speak my mind without thinking twice about it beforehand. Emotions swell within me. I just wish someone out there listens to me, or reads this, and sees where I'm coming from, and at least says something. I think I might be going insane.