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LostOntheRoadofLife
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Name: Ryan
Country: United States
State: Virginia
Metro: Fairfax County
Birthday: 9/29/1988
Gender: Male
Expertise: Video Gaming, railing on an incompetent government. Not surprising that the two things I like are also two of the things I'm best at, eh?
Occupation: Student
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  kujiiinretsu
Member Since:
9/17/2004
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| Wrote in here because mild cathartic activity felt necessary.
Seems like this is a good place to come for mild cathartic activity when social options are exhausted. Which is to say it is more and more often that those are exhausted as time goes on. People get busier, and I can be criticized for all that was felt appropriate at the moment, but the number of people who will teach me what was wrong and not just fling invectives at me or give me that strangling silence shrinks with the passage of every moment.
Options to rise above are exhausted. Options to subsist are beginning to run dry.
Thoughts are unorganized; even if organized they would be sparse.
Writing a complete sentence becomes challenging for me. I care less for grammar it seems because I know few if any will read this, I write just well enough not to embarrass myself when I might come back and read this at some later day, or perhaps just well enough because my perception as I read is easily confused by imperfect grammar. The latter is unlikely, but I note that if tired, brainpower to correct errors in grammar by mental operations lessens. I do get confused easily by sh-- crappy grammar when tired. But I write crappier when tired too. Hmm. Reptile brain that comprises brain before neocortex so contradictory.
I want an angel. An angel doesn't want me. What's wrong with me? What does that mean I have to do?
Forgetting is not easy! Requires blunt force trauma to the head, but that is imprecise, causing unwanted memory loss in addition to the desired memory loss; and even then it is not guaranteed that it will be any desirable memory loss at all, or permanent!
Too many commas in that above sentence? O.o
I still want an angel. *sigh*
Money does not buy you love, as the Beatles say, but it certainly buys you the items and services required to impress a person that you might love and desire reciprocation from.
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| ... when you start seeing her in your dreams.
This is actually really old, but I thought I'd still relate this... consideration... to people with more experience than I.
It was actually a month ago that I saw her in my dreams, I called out to her, held her, saw how the light played off her hair and danced from her eyes. It was pure bliss, and it was her who was the cause of it. It was one of the few dreams I've ever had worth remembering, though I don't normally because as a dream, it only hurts when you wake up and realize it was just a dream. It also makes mornings awkward when your parents ask, "who's Grace?"
... of course the answer is just a person I know. That's all I am to her, after all. I, in fact, know several "Grace"s, so it's a rather simple thing to just say "a person I know". It also helps to dull the ache of the nerve their largely innocuous question struck.
And it's not a matter of confidence to try and push the envelope, either. She's just simply not a regular girl. She's smarter than me, and more dedicated to boot. It's why she goes where she does, and why I don't go there, too.
By the time I've typed this, I've already largely given up. I'm good at that, I know. Maybe I might see her once or twice a year, but I never know what to say anymore. What small talk is there that will express what you want to say in terms that won't put up red flags, steering into the 'just a friend' category? Honesty won't work here. And if the answer is that she's just not the one, WHO IS? If you can't answer that, then at least answer how it is you stop yourself from going crazy from not knowing who the one is.
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| So I am terribly bored, and I was just run off the road into the friend zone by a girl I swear I'm not worthy to even look at, much less talk to.
But then I just realized something after I got done hurling load after load of bile into the toilet and running myself haggard over this most distinct and painful failure; wasn't the whole point of talking to her just to get to be her friend? Shouldn't I not have been thinking so far ahead to the point of dating or marriage or somesuch?
I swiftly realized I hadn't been thinking that far ahead. Then again, I hadn't really been thinking at all, and somewhere along the way I just got caught up in the fact that this was a girl who for the years I knew she existed looked nothing like what I saw in front of me; and that she was even talking to me on equal footing after the two years we'd last seen each other in high school (and not on anything past acquaintance speaking terms) was such a point of joy for me (pitiful) that I just decided 'you know what, let's try to talk to her as often as possible, that's got to be good'.
So I did. I called about an average of once every three days for the past... three weeks. Text was a little more voluminous since it seemed to be the way she wanted to talk (it really wasn't any substitute at all for hearing her or seeing her). Can't have been anything wrong with that, right? (I'm going to be wrong here, somehow with someone)
You know what, I bet it was the movie that scared her off. Wall-E. Great movie, but only couples go see that, and what did I happen to have her see with me one day? That very movie. Excellent movie by the way, could have been watched alone, but I had to follow the advice of at least four people who had seen it before me with friends/girls of their own and absolutely insisted it be seen with a girl in tow.
Yeah... that's it. Definitely the movie. I can't really blame it though, one part of that being it was my own damn fault I had to insist on seeing her as soon as possible and couldn't think of any better way to see her than with a trip to the movies (in retrospect, a very bad idea), and another part being that HOW COULD YOU BLAME A WALL-E UNIT FOR YOUR PROBLEMS....... it's too cute for that.
So fast forward to around now, or really last Wednesday when word of the killing blow arrived (which in retrospect should not be a killing blow at all given I wasn't even deliberately looking to ask her on a date or anything), that "things needed clearing up". My stomach dropped into the eternal pit of deathly void and thusly the date was set... for my execution. At least that was what it felt like at the time. On the morning of that day I managed to drive over to the designated meeting place without killing anyone else on the way there, but all the while I still felt miserable like there was acid leaking through a hole in my stomach lining where it would happily eat away at my insides and a little tinny voice inside my head would titter away endlessly at my face planting itself in the wheel every time I came to a stop.
(note: got to stop watching zero punctuation, it's coloring this into a very not-like-me style)
So the whole time, we talked, initially making clear that we were just being friends (and instilling the most chilling sense of awkwardness you can between a guy and a girl on a 95-degree day), and then it moved onto small things. Really the whole time I was on kind of dead-autopilot, the majority of my mind having moved away to parts unknown to avoid the awkwardness while the dead-autopilot allowed me to retain enough brainpower to recognize words and choose ones that might have related something to the subject at hand, thereby giving a sense of intelligence and life to my hollowed-out husk as the minutes crawled by. The whole time, I was also looking straight into her eyes; I couldn't have been staring too hard, because my eyes were already dead and lifeless anyways, a dog would sneeze at my stare at that point. That said, she still avoided them. She couldn't look at my eyes for more than two seconds at a time before moving on to scan the room while talking about something else, and that means either one of two things: that's she's fantastically bored or that she's scared of me and looking to get away as soon as possible, neither of which seem like a particularly bright appraisal of myself at that point.
So the time came and we parted, and I sat there at the table in a kind of mad stupor; not angry-mad, crazy-mad because there were far too many things running through my head at that point for me to even notice that another twelve minutes had passed.
And then after that was the aforementioned suffering and deadness and a temporary return to depression before I realized that I lost sight of the whole point of my talking to her, which was really to become her friend BEFORE even considering dating her.
WHERE and WHEN did I lose sight of that, and how do I stop that? That was damned inconvenient for me and I would imagine very much so for her. I wonder if I should even try messaging her again somehow-- I haven't since that day. And if I did, how long would it be before she said to me "I just don't want to talk to you."?
Oh, and she's had experience dating once, before. That's a hell of a lot more experience than I have, but I honestly would have been surprised (pleasantly, I'll admit. I suck.) if she hadn't. I'm so outmatched, here.
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| Alright, so I lied. There's a couple of things I want to write that I can't exactly put on Facebook (it's not profane, offensive, sacrilegious, perverted, or otherwise), so here I am, putting it on here.
College hasn't gone like I thought it would've, much less as I would've hoped. Surely, I've met more people along the way than I really tried to back in high school, hell, in my entire K-12 education, but I've learned a lot less academically than I thought I would've and have instead been learning more lessons about life itself. Well, when I say learned, it's more like what I've really taken to heart. Obviously, taking my academia to heart would benefit me more, but for whatever reason, it's not happening. Who knows, maybe I'm mentally retarded to some extent.
Ha-- that's not true. I'm not stupid, not in the manner that's been phased out long ago, that is, to suggest a low IQ. In fact, if you've visited my Facebook page, you've seen that my IQ is listed as a proud 136 via a Facebook IQ test.
Maybe it should be knocked down a couple dozen points for even trusting it. -_-;
Point of the matter is, it sucks. Or... well, it doesn't really suck, it's just... I'm still afraid, somewhat. I don't think badly of a lot of this world, it's just... I'm afraid of some of it. I don't know if that's worse than thinking it sucks, but that's how it is, now. I know this fear, however irrational, isn't helping at all, but still... I don't know how to get rid of it. A lot of people I talk to can't, or simply do not help at all despite best intentions. Perhaps I don't express the idea I have well enough; let's be frank, I'm not the smoothest talker, and a lot of my writing is quite randomly paced. Not that it suffers for poor grammar or spelling, it suffers from lack of organization and clarity of thought. It is, to an extent, a reflection of the same disorganization in my own head and the fear that results from it. Or is it the disorganization that results from the fear? I don't know. Were it not a dump between my ears, it'd be a little easier to figure out. Were it also not a mess in the world outside, it'd also be a little easier to figure out. And as time goes on, it will only get worse on the outside, however much I improve on the inside.
Fact: after this year, I will know no one from my old high school. Perhaps one or two of my old teachers will still remain, but I don't know whether or not I have the standing to face them once again. Let's face it, I was only an average student at best, and an average Asian student? Good God, man, you can't be seriously considering revisiting your old school with a standing such as that![/sarcasm]
No, really. I don't know whether or not I have the standing to face them again. I know I could have done so much more, done better far and away than I did; and I put off a revisit to my old high school until I could build my standing and return with pride, saying "This is what I am now. Your seeds have borne fruit, your efforts not gone in vain." [/delusionsofgrandeur] But... I don't think I've changed all that much since then. Certainly less afraid than then in some areas, but still as much a coward as ever in others, still stifled because. I can't face them with pride and the reassurance that normally comes with college students to high school teachers, to my high school juniors. It just doesn't work to bring out what you don't have.
That aside, the likkle wunderkins I knew from my senior year are graduating! They're moving on to places I can only dream of or at best attend on the off occasion they host some government-related event like Model UN or stuff of the like. I kinda feel left behind. That's the gist of it.
Fact: friends are transferring. This already happened last year, but this year it's happening more and more. I want to transfer, but it's not going to happen. A 3.2 GPA doesn't carry as much weight as it did years ago, nor do SAT scores. About SATs, while I understand the reasoning behind the preference for GPA, I don't share it. The SAT is pretty much machine-graded-- it's objective, standardized, and most importantly leaves no one to try and grub at their teachers' feet to try and bump that plus-grade to the next level. Whatever the case, despite a good SAT score, where I want to transfer won't even look at my application because of the 3.2. So they say they considered all applicants fairly and equally, but that's bullshit when you have more than 3,000 students applying in the transfer vein alone, and then another 10,000+ some for the incoming freshmen class. So transferring is out of the question now. Last semester was pretty much my last chance, and it didn't take. So... fuck.
Fact: drinking doesn't seem so bad considering the above.
Fact: I hate being left alone/behind (when I don't request it). Surprise, surprise.
Conjecture: My options are increasingly limited for the company I wish to keep. They're moving on to better things, and I have no idea where they're going. That is to say, not that I don't know the name or physical, geographical location of where they're going (we have Google Maps for a reason), but there's something to be said for the personal distance that grows as a result of these things. It's going to get to the point where I'm not going to truly be able to see them, despite their being right in front of my face, if that ever happens (and I don't doubt that it will, just that it will be in deference to the described situation; it may as well just not happen). God... if I said I wasn't going to miss them, despite this age of interconnectedness and instant communication, it would be a lie I could not myself tolerate-- and honestly, there are quite a few I could (it's how I've stayed relatively sane)!
Maybe it boils down to a couple of options: I get used to being left behind, or somehow I get this shit through my head such that I get a fucking 4.0 GPA, because it seems that's all the rage nowadays, the almighty GPA, the one thing that'll become more important than your fucking credit score. I'm really fucking sorry if I don't have a 4.0! It's only a 3.2. Forgive me? No? Then walk the fuck off like everyone else! <--- argument in a nutshell
Don't really wanna stop writing, but I don't think anyone reading this would have the patience to go on any longer, nor do I really have anything else to say. Would it be because people reading this would have no more patience to read that I "run out" of things to write? Yeah, probably. Who cares, I'll just leave it here for now.
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| Yeah. My Facebook has pretty much supplanted this weblog. I dunno. Maybe some very sporadic updates here, but nothing major. At all.
:)
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