Thoughts ... in no particular order.
current mood: thinky
current song: "Megalomaniac" - Incubus
Anger is a funny thing. I'm not one who is prone to it. Frustration? Yes. Absolutely. But pure anger? Maybe a handful of times. Funny I mention hand in that context, seeing as though during those times, I would hit any flat, hard surface that was around.
I forgot where I was going with that.
I'm running on empty. Going through the motions. I've literally been on auto-pilot the last week and a half. My thoughts have been scattered and disjointed, and I can't really focus on anything that doesn't completely interest me. That's a given anyway, though.
Pier One is irritating. I hate the fact that I'm manual labor. I mean, I guess it's good in a "getting your hands dirty, find out what you're made of" kind of way. But ... I'm surrounded by people who's heads can be destroyed with the utterance of any big word.
As the days get colder, my thoughts more often drift to him and warmer seasons. I'm supposed to hate him. Or at least dislike him. But I can't. I read his Myspace profile every single day, pouring over every single comment and picture, trying to find ... no, I guess connect with what I miss about him. I mean, the easy answer is the physicality. But am I so completely dependent on being touched that I'm putting myself through this? Doesn't add up.
The only romantic interest I have follows the pattern that I've become sickeningly familiar with. It's all playing out exactly how it has before, which makes me think of Matt and how shitty I was to him. It's all happening again. How do you spell "self-fufilling prophecy"? I'm falling hard, and in the end, it's going to amount to nothing, I'm going to lose a friendship, and then I can feel free to find the next straight boy to fall for.
I dunno ... he just makes me feel good. It'd be better if I could just go down on him already. What a shit I am.
I've also been thinking on the other side of spectrum. About Candice, and how fucking perfect she is for me. I believe the classic classification is "the one that got away". Fits. I kept imagining myself with her, and how happy we'd actually be. It'd be a low maintenence relationship, something I am grossly unfamiliar with. Maybe I'm just pining over one who's unattainable. That's me: trying to reach the moon with a stepladder.
To go to Cali, to not go to Cali. That is the question.
I've applied to the Academy of Dramatic Arts. Apparently, they were really impressed with my resume (HUH?!) and want to schedule an audition. I need one more letter of personal reference and my college transcripts, and that'll be it.
I don't ever remember thinking twice about going to college. Going back? 'Nother story.
Rah, my manager at Blockbuster: "You're the best fucking employee I've got."
Egoooo boost ... GO!