it would be a lie, but i like to say it anyway. it was a very happy moment, a while ago, when i gave up on reading for tomorrow, dog-eared the page, and set the book down. lay back against one of the big plushy brown coffee house chairs with my head on the tall cushion and listened to the music. ceiling lights spotlit my eyes and i propped one foot on the other, unmoving for the duration of the song. the song that pretty much epitomized the night for me, not necessarily in meaning as much as the way i felt. 'come downstairs and say hello'... it was almost perfect. i'm frustrated with a lot of things and happy with a lot of things. it's usually the case with me, naturally.
i want to get through this week but i don't want to move on to next week. i want this weekend but i don't want the days following, although i do want the days following for other reasons. this week should be cut and dry: classes, probably bowling wednesday, i might go to the driving range thursday or maybe tuesday if i want to, alone or not, to try out my new old clubs {and try not to dislocate my shoulder again}. drive to the beach friday... a sober weekend i suppose, unless things change. and they always could. none of that is important, though. what i hate is that what is important, i bleed dry. i'm sure nobody wants to hear it. i talk about it far too much. but it's what's important, to me. it is.
but otherwise, i'm finding it hard to write at all. i need to write a 12-15 page short story in the next two weeks. i already know basically what to write about. i have a who, although i haven't developed him nearly enough (charles jackson sims). i have a beginning and an end, but not a middle, and, though the ideas shocked me when i first discovered them lying in bed in the dark a week or so ago, by now i'm afraid they sound more juvenile than i want. which is to say they are probably fine, i'm just growing paranoid.
i sat in the huff lounge today doing physics with a relatively new friend, talking to a very old friend (for me), and wishing to god i could make her life better. it's no secret that i love her to death. i just wish it could do something productive. tell you the truth, i want to meet someone new, somewhat badly. i need somebody fresh. i just don't have any idea how to do it. there was a girl in the coffee shop tonight sitting in the adjoining large brown chair to the one i would later habit. i wanted to be her friend. honestly, in a perfect world, the other chair would have been unoccupied and i would have sat in it and read my book and listened to music. in that perfect world, she would have noticed me, realized she wanted to be my friend, and done something about it. that's how miserable my existance is. i'm not a betting man but even i wouldn't waste my pocket change on something like that.
it's the first impression that i'm afraid of. i'm scared to death of coming off the wrong way and having that be the end of things. if i close someone's eyes to me the first time i say a word to them, i might as well not say any more. what is even more frustrating is that there is someone i've never even seen before... i hate that i'm even saying this. it's ridiculous and dumb and i can't stand to even think i subscribe to it but here goes... there is this girl who is my friend on the myspace {shudder}. once we get past the fact that i just said 'myspace', the story may contain some meaning. basically, i desperately want to be her friend. or more, whichever. she's painfully beautiful, to me. maybe not so much to the entire population, i'm sure. she probably wouldn't make the cut for a baywatch lifeguard, but she isn't that kind of girl. and i like that she isn't an internet whore, really. and she lives near where i live when i'm at home. and there are some things i don't like as well, which only make the package more real. but, down to the heart of the issue, she is the kind of girl i want to meet. and i want to. there's just the question of how to do it. the myspace has flipflopped the way things should be. it should be creepy to 'friend' strangers online, and yet it isn't. it shouldn't be creepy to make friends with someone, and yet it is. maybe only because i'm overanalysing, but i can see how easy it is for her to be my 'friend' and how intensely creepy it could possibly be for one of her stranger 'friends' to actually want to be her friend.
this leaves me with nowhere to go, and i hate that. generally, even without support, i have a fairly high level of self-esteem in that i believe that if anyone actually cares to get to know me, they should like me. i believe i am a good friend to people, especially if i care about them and they let me be a blessing to them. i hope so anyway. but this online thing, it changes everything. there is the advantage of being able to craft your words before anyone sees them but also the paranoia instilled in everyone. as far as i can tell right now, there is no good way to say hello to someone you don't know. not a single one. it all goes back to my fear of first impressions. what i want is for this one particular person to be interested in me, to want to find out who i am, to want to talk to me. what i have is an opportunity to message them, through the goddamn fucking myspace, saying the words that make them feel that way without sounding like a stalker or a creep. add that to my belief that i only get one shot and both coming off as interesting and not creepy. have you any idea how difficult that seems? if you know me, really know me, you understand my fixation with girls, not in the purely sexual way of most red-blooded college boys, but in the relationship way. it's a fucking curse that i should be like i am. actually, some of the reason i want to think i have someone is so i can stop being paranoid about seeing last semester's girl around campus. in fact, i think i would want to find her, just to speak to her, even if it never came up, just to internally hold it over her head. i woud love that.
but, i remain intensely frustrated with that single stratospherically ridiculous thing: the actual friending of a 'friend'. how sad can this get?
oh, and it's 9-11 as i'm writing this. in another seven hours or so, i guess, it will be five full years since the two planes flew into the towers. i was taking a biology test at the time. mr hanes told the class a plane had flown into one of the towers. he didn't sound emotional at all so i figured it was a single-person plane that had an accident. walking to my next class, a lot of the older girls were crying and i didn't know why. we watched the television all my next class and a couple of us watched it during lunch too. my soccer game that afternoon was canceled, which was good because that team had killed us earlier in the year.
