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Tuesday, 30 June 2009

I don't want to

Look at what I ran into... A text written years ago, which in retrospect reminds me of things I didn't know I remembered and offers quite a bit of prophecy. If you don't mind, I'll edit the punctuation, grammar and structure. It was driving me crazy.

If there's one thing I know about myself it's that I'm not like most people, not even like unusual people I know. I know I don't belong with most people. I don't fit in, and to be honest, I don't want to. I take some pride in being different. 

Whether you choose, as you read this, to believe in my good grades in school and people's opinions to call me smart, I don't really care. But I think I'm often smarter than average: just smart enough to know I'm not all that smart. I am nerdy (not the same as smart to me), I'm studying to become a mathematician, I like to read, I like philosophy, I like to think and I like nonsense. I don't think like most people, I have an odd way of associating ideas, and I don't feel like most people feel. 

I don't love my parents, my sister, or anyone in my family for that matter just because I'm related to them. I understand the "blood-bond" social contract and refuse to acknowledge the rights or responsibilities on account of blood-bonds and politeness alone. I only care about three people: my two best friends and the only guy who's ever been my boyfriend, if you could call him that. 

I shouldn't need to say this, but that's what writing this story is about: my people tolerance is very low. After enough time with a person, I just grow sick of them. I have trouble letting people near me, I have trouble when people ask me personal questions, I have trouble when people touch me or stand too close, I have trouble when people seem too human (be it by breathing, chewing, talking or in general living too "profusely"). 

By people I mean anyone other than the three I just mentioned before. As a rule, they'll be the exception to everything I say here about people. Now, it's not like I hate people, I don't actually hate anyone, I just grow sick and tired of people. I'm capable of respect (for some more than others), and I'm able to recognize how good people may be in whatever ways they're good - I just seem to ignore that fact if I "click" into not-liking-them mode. 

I believe in the existence of other exceptional people, I just can't trust myself to be able to grow fond of them. I know a few of those already. That should explain why I'm writing this: waiting to see if some exceptional stranger happens to run into this and say something I'll find useful. 

Like I said, I've drifted apart from my two best friends. I don't have a lot of friends, and there's a lot I don't talk about with my friends (except my best friends) and lately I feel so detached from them it seems inappropriate to tell them stuff. I figure it should somehow help, writing this out, even if no one answers, or I find no answers useful. Enough background given on me being me, I can move on to what I'm supposed to be writing about: my nonexistent love life and why it's nonexistent. 

First of all, I have next to no social skills. I try to be polite, but I don't bother with a lot of social rules, I'm usually not very talkative and when I "click" I often grimace, stretch my fingers or make some sort of gesture that tips me off, granted something else hasn't given me away already. I can tell what's wrong and what isn't, I just can't figure it out at the time I need to figure it out, kind of like some people can't think of the right comeback when they've been insulted until it's too late. 

...That's possibly because I tend to think things over too much. I'm very contradictory. I often think very rationally, yet I manage to stay nonsensical. I find myself fighting my instincts because I can't tell if they're good everytime: which are the "human" instincts and which are just the neurotic, obsessive-compulsive me trying to break away from a situation. I'm hoping to meet another exceptional person I can care about, but I drive everyone away. I know it should be more reasonable to try and care more about the exceptional people I already know and don't care about, but something tells me I'll just grow tired of them and it'll keep them from being exceptional, which is of course silly, as they're supposed to be exceptional in the first place.  

One problem when I meet new people is that I think I'm a very good judge of character: I think I've got most people figured out soon after meeting them and the "click" thing happens when I do. I think I'm a good judge of character because I've never made an assumption about someone and then regretted it. I understand my two best friends than most people they know and it accounts for why we're friends, I think. 

I meet people: it's not that I'm not unwilling to, I just don't like the environments most people meet other people in, which usually involve going to places that I find too loud, too crowded and in general too uncomfortable. When people try to make friends with me, even when I sort of like them and don't want to turn them away, I'm awkward and I don't know how to keep up the conversation, or I start a new, awkward, at the wrong time. I'm not completely unreachable, I try hard to be nice, and it's lead to a few guys fancying me. I only call them infatuations, and I hesitate to say "me" because I think they don't know me. 

This is part of what makes the exceptional three exceptional: they get me, not just because I let them, but because they're able to. Among the guys who've had crushes on me, one was creepy, a couple were pathetic, some were plain stupid and two I should've given a chance to. It's those two I'm worried about. They're nice, smart and one of them could have actually handled me, the other one I'm not so sure about. My point here is, I turn every guy away somehow and I shouldn't because I know some are worth it. 

The guy who could've handled me? We could be best friends now. That's how much I like him as a person, that's why I'm sorry I turned him away. We're only just friends now (6 years later), and I'm sorry we weren't close then because I feel we can't be close now. There's something about a guy hitting on me, or leading me to think this is the case, that "clicks" in me. The kind of things guys do to try to make me notice them and like them somehow repulse me. Every single time, except with my best friend. Half drunk at a party he tried a pickup line on me offering to teach me how to dance (I suck at it) if I'd help him with physics in school (he's smart, he didn't need help); he played romantic guitar songs dimly lit rooms for me and for some reason it didn't make me want to get away from him. It's not because any of it worked or I'm in any way attracted to him. I suppose, and it's a wild guess as I actually don't know the reason why, I somehow knew nothing was going to happen, I knew he didn't really like me that way. That kept me from turning him away, and he kept trying to "reach me." I guess he knew how to. 

When it comes to people there are a few things that, put together, will usually make me like them (at least enough to stand them more than the rest): 

1) Being smart or in any way wise. I use the term loosely, but I don't mean nerds necessarily, just people who have opinions, "know how to think," and think for themselves, not others, even when they borrow ideas. 

2) Being interesting, complete. That's why the average nerd won't cut it. I don't like stereotypes, I like people who're beyond them and can't be fit anywhere. Whether it's the metal loving fan who can be romantic and sweet or the smart guy who is sometimes an idiot. 

3) Being unconventional, thinking out of the box. It's not quite the same as being "complete," but it does make people more interesting. I can't put it down better in words, but it's like finding someone who can find reason in Nazism and defend it reasonably without believing in it. I picked Nazism cause it's usually regarded as "evil," which I'd rather call"morally complicated." Yes, it was horrible. But there's a reason so many otherwise good people joined it. There was a lot more to it than meets the eye and it takes a special sort of person to be willing to see through the most disagreeable of things and understand some of the nonsense in them. I like people who can find some "right" in what most regard as "wrong." I'm like that sometimes.

Shouldn't be that hard to meet people like that, right? Well, suppose I meet one such person: it takes me not driving him/her away and it takes him/her actually trying to get to me, because I just don't know how to reach out to people. After that, it'll take a lot on my part not to drive this person away without meaning to, which requires them knowing me well enough to know I don't mean to be mean, rude or distant in my awkwardness. So, just how did I get to the exceptional three? Let's look at that in detail. 

One of my best friends? Mostly chance. I'd just moved to a new city, age 5, started attending a new school, and she'd just come from the same city to the same school. Unlike the new girls before her, I tried to be friends with her for a very silly reason, come to think of it: every day when I get home mum asks about my day. Back then I told her about this new girl and she told me to try and be friends with her. The only fight we've ever had was that same year, when for some reason I started calling her fat and she started calling me stupid, don't know how it started or how we got over it. We don't talk so much, but we can always talk, even if it's been a while, about anything. 

We didn't consider ourselves best friends until recently. It may have to do with the fact that we spend more time with other people and talk more with other people. But it's also true that we know one another well, we can talk about anything and we understand one another, which is a lot to ask from any of the other people we know and spend more time with. I think I started considering her my best friend when I realised how long we'd been friends. 

A couple of years ago she moved, and I chatted to her every chance I got, and sometimes we called one another for no good reason. Then I moved too, to the same city, I got into the same school as her, I met my other best friend, and I drifted apart from her and the life she'd made for herself while we were apart. Still, except for the time when she tried to tell me she felt we were drifting apart (and hell, we did then I just didn't know what to do about it), conversations between us aren't awkward. 

My other best friend I met in school when I moved. Most people in the class hated him, thought he was a son of a bitch because he was smarter than the rest (tested, he acted like an adult when he should've been acting like a kid) and couldn't resist showing off. At any rate, I somehow saw through that and enjoyed our conversations. He asked for my e-mail some day for some homework which resulted in us talking about everything from nonsense to comics to books to the weather to our love lives to movies to developing a new "dictionary" where we called each other and ourselves names, seeing relationships between us and characters from plays, books, movies. We talked virtually non stop. We spent most of the day together in school, writing on notebooks and papers (which pissed off a teacher who thought we were mutual bad influences and talked to our parents about it) when we couldn't talk normally, giving one another looks when we knew we were thinking the same thought. It led everyone to think we were going to get married or something, because suddenly the son of a bitch who was something of a misogynistic player was nice to the new smart girl. 

Let's say we spent time together in school from 7am to 3pm. Then we each got home by 5pm and chatted on until 11pm, sometimes later. We often did group work together, got together, talked for 3 hours, then worked for 1 and talked some more until the work was done. We sometimes hung out together (he likes to party and to go out drinking, and he has plenty of other friends, so I'm not the only one he hung out with), went out for dinner. When we didn't meet it wasn't odd for one of us to call the other and stay on the phone for hours (which is very unusual in me). We would text each other to tell of the latest events or just to let out some steam from a given situation. 

Right after we graduated he went away for six months. It's ridiculous to say it, to tell strangers what I couldn't for the life of me tell him, but I cried like a little girl when he was about to leave. Though I knew it would only be six months, I somehow knew things wouldn't be the same between us once he did. Whaddaya know? We're awkward now, and I can't for the life of me remember what we talked about when we talked as much as we did, never running out of topics even when we went over old ones and we'd already told one another everything there was to know. I just don't know how the conversation flowed so nicely. We kept chatting everytime we were both online for a while. I don't know if that's what ruined things, cause we both take words so seriously, but at some point I got sentimental and couldn't help typing and sending a message saying "I love you, different kind of love, but I love you". I probably should have written "I love you, I'm not in love with you, I love you", but it probably wouldn't have made a difference. I thought we were clear on that matter, I figure he knew me well enough to understand what I meant with what I said and didn't say, but I can't help thinking it may be my fault we fell apart. I don't remember the exact timeline, but maybe it was around that conversation that we stopped talking as much as we used to... or talked as much but not as well as we used to. It all went downhill from that point onwards. He came back, we are both in the same university and though we at first tried to hang out, we don't anymore. We no longer chat everytime we're both online. He doesn't leave messages for me when I'm offline, and I haven't been able to let go of the habit to leave messages for him when he's not online, though I feel more ridiculous with each message I send, hoping he'll have some remark to say when he sees it and knowing he won't. We don't text or call each other. When we talk it's usually only to report important news, and we don't even do it right away as they happen anymore. It seems to me he calls out of some weird obligation when I haven't been online for a longer period of time than is usual (I'm usually online everyday, as long as I can, out of habit... back in the day, I spent all that time online chatting with him), and suggests we go out for dinner. Last time that happened I almost broke down and cried, because we were so distant. I tried telling him how I felt a long time ago, he said I was being ridiculous, we went out for dinner, and then too, I almost broke into tears, though all he noticed was me blushing. I don't know if it's because it's him, I don't know if it's because I haven't let go of the habits, or because it's so awkward. I miss him, and it hurts when I think I've lost his friendship as it was. I just don't know what to do. 

Last of the exceptional three, my only ex. We met through a mutual friend, and at some point my group of friends and his started hanging out together. For no good reason, both his friends and mine started teasing us, saying we should be together. I didn't think of him much back then, and I didn't take my friends seriously. But one day I noticed I couldn't stop thinking about him and I knew I had a crush on him. Months later, at a party, the reaction I had when I saw him told me I loved him. Maybe a year or so after that, we had awkward moments, an awkward date, he asked me (though he actually didn't) to be his girlfriend and I said yes. It lasted just over a month. He broke up with me saying I didn't show my love for him (I felt so weird kissing him, hugging him, even though I wanted and loved to), but said something about us being friends anyway. I blocked him for a while and tried to stay as far away from him as possible, knowing I couldn't trust myself around him, or anywhere for that matter if they mentioned him. Then I tried that being friends thing. 

I tried talking to him every so often, when I could think of something to say (SOOO ridiculously hard with him, always). He moved, then while still living in different cities he asked me if I'd found anyone new and though I tried lying and making someone up I ended up saying I still loved him. Then I moved (my whole life and that of people around me seems to revolve around just two cities). We kept on chatting and one day he tells me to go to his place and not tell a soul. I kept my word though it cost me a a punch in the arm, went to his place and he said he sort of still had feelings for me and we got together again. Again, it didn't last long. We had some stupid fight while chatting. Some time after that, he told me to go to his place again, we got back together again, and the day after that he went away on vacation. We were together that time just over a month, and a month he spent away. I heard he'd cheated on me, I confronted him, he said it never happened and I somehow bought it, or ignored it. Then a couple of weeks later (maybe less) he tells me he realised he loves someone else and dumps me. 

That time I deleted him and tried very hard to keep myself away from anything that could remind me of him. But we're going to the same university. On few occasions, we've been within each other's sight. I find myself hiding and walking towards moving cars to get away from him. Whether I like it or not (I like it because it makes me feel alive, I hate it for too many other reasons) I can't change the way I feel about him, the way he makes me feel or my reaction when someone does so much as mention his name. It's been three years, give or take. I still feel the same way about him. I don't trust myself to try and be friends with him or try to reach him because I chose to tell myself he doesn't love me and never did, though he was uncannily good at reading my thoughts and getting me to lower my guard. 

I don't let people near me, I hate physical contact, I keep up this almost visible barrier between me and the outer world but around him I couldn't think straight, I couldn't keep that wall up and he saw right through me. 

See anything they all have in common that makes them exceptional? I don't. So, as I think of things (and that's about all I do) I figure everyone I know has moved on someplace I'm not. "I'm stuck in my past" and it may have to do with my odd memory and my way of remembering things a lot of people don't and giving importance to meaningless nonsense, trying to make sense of it. Besides the fact that I'm in my own little world, my world is so far behind in time from the rest of the world, it's that much harder to reach out to it. I can't think of anything in my life worth telling from the last three years, and I can't think of anyone to tell it to. 

Like I said, I still talk with my friends, but I don't really have much to tell, and they don't tell me much lately. It's not like I haven't talked to them in three years, or anyone. It just doesn't have any meaning for me. There's no real content, and even the old habit is slowly fading. I gave up on my three exceptionals, and they'll remain exceptional, but they'll be history. I have no love life because I can't bring myself to consider guys I don't like, and I don't like any other than my ex, no matter how hard I try to see the good in them. I just can't get over him, even when I manage not to think of him as often as I used to, he still has that narcotic effect on me that no one else does. I just can't give a kiss or a hug if I don't mean them, I'm a hopeless romantic that way. I can't be with someone just for the sake of being with someone, and I refuse to give a chance to the next guy that comes along just because I need it. 

So what am I up to writing away most of my life to strangers? Maybe someone knows how to fix things with any of my exceptionals. Maybe someone will help me figure out how to like people more, or how to make myself more bearable. Maybe someone will help me not drive people away. Maybe I'll meet someone new here who'll make good conversation, kinda like IMVU (tried it, closed my account) without (so many) random guys wanting cyber sex. Maybe just a few will bother reading through the whole story, and none will answer. Maybe no one will even bother reading this through. Maybe no one will run into it and read any of it at all. 

I suppose this is my message in a bottle, and I just ran out of ink.

Wednesday, 10 June 2009

Generic, 2

WARNING: This is coming out as one of the first posts, while it was never really intended to be a post. I've decided to let the internet deal with my wanting to clean up my computer files. I left it as a whole paragraph on purpose, by the way. It's not intended to be read. It's not intended to be easy to read. It's not intended to be understood. At the time, I just needed to write it.

Well… and just why should it matter? At all?... real question is of course, why shouldn’t it… So this maniac, this crazy lady… stupid ex-girlfriend of his, D’s…. why can’t she give up? She should, and she knows it, it’s not like she doesn’t, she just can’t get over him, can she? She convinced herself she loved him, that she still does, and now there’s nothing that can convince her otherwise, because for her, the fool, nothing can beat that. Not time, not a picture of him naked, taking a shit on a toilet. In the very act of expelling a turd, in Paul Auster’s words… and even that wasn’t unattractive. Not that, not the notice for farts, not anything he could do, or say. She stalks him, like an idiot, or used to. Trying to follow him around in facebook, trying to figure out details about his life based on nothing but the scarce information provided there. Why on earth does she hope to be with him again? Why? She’s done her best to stay away, to keep him away, not to see him, not to meet him, not to make eye contact when it happens, trying so hard to keep her cool around him. She remembers his cellphone number by heart, but deleted it, like it can prevent calls that aren’t to be expected. He never called much, not even when he could’ve been expected to, so it’s pointless to think he might call now… after two goddamn years, yeah, like he’d call…’Course he won’t. And why eliminate him from messenger? Yet another way of stalking him, of keeping track of his state of mind, yet another attempt at understanding him, but always a stupid hope of him talking to her, eating her insides, driving her insane, managed to make that torture. She tried to stand out, as if he’d care about her one tiny little bit. She just doesn’t get it, does she? Even after figuring it all out rationally, she just won’t grasp the fact that he never loved her, and never will, especially after all she’s done to dig a hole for herself to be shut in. She waits, stupidly hanging on to the belief that there’s a chance that they’ll be together again. Of course there’s not a chance in hell, but she stupidly hopes that sometime in university, should they chance to be near one another, he’ll venture a ‘hello’, start a conversation, moved by feelings for her. Non-existent feelings, those are… but she’s counting on those stupid memories, damn her and her memories, damn it all! He said he loved her, such a long time ago. At best, and only just maybe, he loved her then. And that was what? Five years ago, at least. He moved on. HE MOVED ON. He even told her to get over it, to meet new people, and what has she done? She’s stuck to thinking of him, finding it impossible to do so much as care for most other people. So really, there’s just him, and her once-best-friends. And at that… well, A just so happens to be the only one still around, but she was never that important. Their friendship was longlasting, but it would be wrong to call them best friends when they hardly talk and don’t really get on much. They don’t go out together, don’t share much, they don’t do a lot together, they hardly even talk. Never talked much before either… I suppose linaThumbe just shared with her more than she did with most people… for that matter, she shared some things with her she never did with EBF. But whatever made them good friends, whatever made them able to talk all day, almost literally, it’s gone. He has a girlfriend now, but it started going downhill the moment he left to Boston. She said she loved him. Not in love with him, though she didn’t clarify… She thought it would suffice with explaining that this was a different kind of love, where the only one mentioned until then was that for D, when he was already a legend, an overlived legend that shouldn’t have outlived the facts that started it. Well, only as far as the relationship goes, I guess… He still has this narcotic effect on her, if it can be any good a word, seeing as she’s never used any. Boring, sad old woman she is. Watching silly romantic films and thinking of a man she hoped would be hers. Thinking of her feelings for him, more like it. But who would listen, or for that matter read of it? She talked to R1, said she didn’t want to be with D again, that she’d chosen not to want him, though she’d like to be with him, though she still cared about him (didn’t use the word ‘love’ in front of R1, that’d be embarrassing, considering they’re not such good friends… coulda-shoulda-woulda-didn’t friendship that was). She felt she’d opened a window, and hoped in secret (speaking of it with either of her two “friends” was inadmissible even then) that it would somehow lead to R1 telling D, and D wanting to be with her. Sounds pretty ridiculous, doesn’t it? Sounds like it because it is. Of course it WON’T happen! Why won’t she get that? Why does she insist in being so stupid? It’s been at least three years since the last time they broke up, since the last time they spoke, or stayed close for more than a fleeting fraction of a second, walking by one another, it’s been three years of her shutting herself in a hole she just keeps digging deeper. Hopeless Nienna cries on and on, ever so selfishly, as opposed to the selfless nature of the real Nienna. The wounds of the world are reduced to just how miserable she feels because she can’t have D. And she dares think she stands a chance. What is the matter with her? She was once smart, she should understand this, get it into her system, or wherever it needs to be got. But no, she thinks she opened a window, talking to R1. And then, no idea how much time later, R1 sends a silly message saying D was over and he said ‘hello’. To think of what that name on the computer screen, “reaching out” with that silly ‘hello’ did to her… She overreacted, clearly, but in her mind, that was just the wheels turning behind the window she’d opened, talking to R1 in the first place. EBF said nothing about it, he didn’t even try to get some sense into her. Now D removed the network that allowed linaThumbe to see his facebook profile, some days ago, and she’s only just realizing that’s why she can’t see his profile. So she thinks, he left. He’s no longer in Bta, they’re no longer going to the same university, they’re never meeting again. And it just hurts. It fucking hurts! If only there were enough facts to make her believe a big fish story of herself, maybe she’d be more pleasantly insane. She’s no longer losing it. There is no ‘it’ left to lose. She lost D, she lost her ability to love, she lost the only people she ever cared about, she lost her best friend, the only one she’d admit herself was truly her best friend, she lost a person to talk to, she lost her brains, she lost her sanity, she lost her chance to have a decent life in every way. No money, no prospects of any in the future, hardly any hopes of ever finishing her career, and she won’t bring herself to commit suicide at once and for all. She thought it was to make sure EBF wouldn’t care, but it’s been a while since she knows it’d be ok, as far as that goes. I don’t know if she’s just holding out for D. She goes about yelling nonsense in her head, whispering it in bathrooms, in her room, touching rubbish, thinking she can connect with D and calling him out, asking him to come to her, ordering him to come back to her, to love her, to miss her, to find her, to kiss her. Make her give up on this nonsense already! Reason won’t do, and she won’t let herself like anyone else. Not even if they’re nice, not even If they deserve it. And why cry? Even now, why cry? It’s been such a LONG TIME! She should be over this, above all this, but she can’t even talk about it, ‘cause there’s no one to talk to, except blank pages in Microsoft Word. Now, *that’s* sad. Cheap form of therapy, as no other can be afforded and it’s useless, cause Word won’t comment, won’t try to get some sense into her head. Microsoft Word doesn’t even care and here she is, writing to Microsoft Word, because all others care less.