| Oh Joy! | ||
| 2000-09-05 || can I have your hotel key? | ||
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Home on Labor Day�Today was pretty uneventful as days off go. I went to lunch with Tony, and then we went and checked out the bar. They were loading stuff out of it into a truck. Now we have no close place to go and play pool and be social. Oh well, I�ll be complaining that I hate being social in three days anyway, so what�s the issue? I received a few phone calls here and there. But I felt mostly in the dark about some things from the weekend all day. After getting an e-mail a little while ago I feel a little better. I hate not really knowing what�s going on. I do know what�s going on inside of me at any rate. I feel content. I feel comfortable. I feel like not listening to what anyone says. You get positive feedback from some sources, and negative feedback from others. Either way, I take my own feedback in, and work with it all that way. I can�t listen to people, especially if they don�t know who or what they�re talking about. I can�t listen to the peanut gallery. I must make my own decisions. If I feel good about something I�m doing or someone I like, I�m going to do whatever makes me happy, regardless. I�m 30 years old, and can�t really play games. If I ever feel like I�m not doing something correct, then I will just end it. I will cut it off. I throw feelings out the windows like one-inch cigarette butts. If I can smile, then who�s to say �no�. I say �fuck em��. There are a million things that make me happy in this world. Stupid little things mostly. Things I do. Things I give. I like giving things. I like being the nice guy. If this makes someone happy, it makes me happy. Things like smiles and messages and hellos�. This is all petty stuff, but it�s what I want right now. No running around. I can�t run around. I can�t run into things. I can�t run away from things. I can�t lie anymore. I can�t fill this page with bad words and bad feelings and bad vibes. I can�t feel like I felt this summer anymore. What a gloomy summer it was. I think back on it, and feel like I was the only one going through all of this. It seems like people around me just lived and went day to day. I was having the worst summer of recent, and no one really noticed. My hiding skills have gotten a whole deal better though. My elusive behavior has gotten better. Sneaking around, keeping secrets. Keeping feelings inside. Feelings and ideas about a million different people. Not knowing what I�m feeling, or who I�m feeling about. Who I�m thinking about. It�s a blur. Nobody really needs to know about this stuff. Nobody really needs to know what�s going on inside my head. Sure, I have close friends that I talk to, but I just always want to be elusive with things. Letting secrets out is no fun. This has been a good few months in retrospect. I�ve met some new people. I�ve developed some contentment. I�ve developed happiness. I�ve developed crushes. I�ve developed all sorts of things, as well as destroyed other things. One thing I�m afraid of though, is turning into me again. Turning right back into the guy that comes out in the face of love or crushes, or whatever you call it. The guy that fucks around and acts like an asshole to make a point. Some point that really has no point. The guy that acts like a hard ass and probes for answers, and makes faces in the mirror to look tough. The guy that comes home at night and punches holes in the wall, and cuts himself. The guy that comes home at night and destroys people with words. I really don�t want to see him again for a long time. I don�t want to come home at night and have him visit. I feel him peeking around corners here and there. I make phone calls. I find out all the secrets. I get all the information from all the sources. I fill up and turn green and red and he comes out to fuck around. I fill up with information, put two and two together and end up on the floor with a know in my stomach because of lack of attention. I end up over on the other side of the room with thoughts of kisses and hugs and holding hands, and boys with pierced eyebrows, and bad tattoos, and bad record collections. I fill up with rage here and there. I don�t want to hear anything. I never care what made you happy, I never care what makes you happy. If it�s not me doing it, I just don�t want to hear a fucking second of it. Think about it. The secrets come in from the other media, I don�t need you to tell me how to make you smile. I can make you smile. I know how to. I know nothing about you really, but I think I can make you smile in the morning, smile at night, smile in the afternoon. You have it way too much. You all have power over me. All you girls, with those looks. Those touches, all of it. You all have the fucking power to kill me at any time. I shouldn�t tell any of you that you have that power, as you can use it to your advantage I guess. I wouldn�t think you�d do that. I wouldn�t think anymore of you would want to kill me. Kill me in the good way. With the eyes, and the looks of contentment. I�m always looking for someone to be content with me. Happy with me. This is all I have to offer. A quiet boy with a million words in his head just waiting to give them away to someone. I�d spin the wheel for you. The roulette wheel. Red three. Just don�t capture me like the others have. Don�t destroy me please. I don�t trust anyone anymore. I want that to change at some point. I don�t want to be the guy who doesn�t trust anyone ever. I never can. Nobody has given me reason to. They all lie. You lie. I lie. Everyone lies to me. They tell me stories to get around things. They tell me things I want to hear. They don�t know I�m not listening though. They don�t know I don�t hear any of it. I just want my chance to shine. I want my chance. It�s been a long time. It�s been years. Years of failing. Years of boring one month relationships here and there. Nobody ever getting to know me. Nobody ever getting in to me. Nobody getting a piece of me. Thinking I�m listening, but I�m not. I�m looking over their shoulder for an escape. A way out. A way to get myself out of the mess. I tease. I make promises. Way too many promises. Writing checks my heart can�t cash. Affecting people for my own benefit. So I can get off, not caring a bit about feelings of another human being. I�ve been there. I sure have. I�ve been the guy trying to charm the pants off of Mrs. Cute girl. I�ve been the guy trying to get into the pants of the closest girl to me. I�ve been that guy. Not anymore though. It�s been a long time now. I haven�t even had sex in over a year now. I haven�t been able to be that guy. There�s been the times when I could, I just can�t be that guy anymore. I really need to sit down and write myself a letter. Send it to my house with an upside down stamp. Let it sit there. Ignore the letter. Use it as some sort of reminder. A reminder. Put someone else�s return address on it. My old address. I�ll eventually mail it to you. I�ve written books about you before. I�ve been in the room thinking about you. Someone, thinking it was you. Well, thinking it was you anyway. I�ve spent holidays with you inside me. I�ve spent time in jail thinking about you. The jail of my car as I drive around the country looking for some stupid answer to my general unhappiness. I told you that you would be happy. I told you that I would sit around in the waiting room waiting for you. Next. I won�t ask you for your drivers license. I won�t say �fuck you�. I won�t play phony and shave for you. Deal with it if it hurts. I won�t lie. I�m not perfect. Deal with it. It�s all here. All two-hundred pages of this was written in the midst of crisis, happiness, and confusion all rolled in to one. In the meantime you were out there somewhere. I knew you. I met you once before. I never thought anything though at the time. They were playing darts. Another person I had this huge crush on was playing darts and I said hello and she ignore me, just like she blew me off on the �first date� we were supposed to have. She was a waste of time though, and I knew it. She had no charm. A dumb fucking voice, and a dumber personality. Her eyes were the only thing that really pulled me in. It always happens that way though. Don�t get mad if I can�t look you in the eye. Don�t hold I against me. Don�t hold anything I do against me. I only mean well. I always mean well, regardless of what the fuck I�m doing. Don�t let your eyes run the show though. Let me see you. Let me just sit back and see you. I don�t need to look into your eyes to be honest with you. To be honest, I doubt you�ll want me to anyway. My eyes are brown. Shit brown. Dark brown. I don�t want you to look me in the eye though. Don�t believe all that bullshit. It happens to me, but not everyone. You won�t be killed by them. I look at you differently every time I see you now. It�s funny how many times I�ve been told good things about all of this. They do far outweigh the bad things. I�ve avoided trying to hear anything bad. I�ve avoided drawing any attention to myself lately. I�ve been around me at all times. Nothing has changed then. Nothing is changing, I�m still going about these situations like I always have. I�m still looking at myself in the mirror in the morning and wondering if I�m serious. I�m mad at myself right now. I went against myself this weekend. You made me do it though. It was good. I wanted it to be better though. I didn�t want to be the sheep. What I had just talked about earlier in the night with your friend. I didn�t want to be that guy. I wish you had found that guy somewhere else because it�s not me. I told you that though. You killed me though with the eyes and made me speed up. I�ll forgive you I guess. I�ll make a promise for something way bigger, and way better though. I promise everything will be all right.
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