| Oct16 2006-10-16 20:15:47 ET |
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Today is my birthday... well... it’s actually a few minutes past midnight, so I could say it was yesterday. I’m 22. It was petty much a normal day. A few friends from school are planning to get drunk next weekend because of me, heh. That’s cool.
I don’t know what else to say... mmh... today I also had an exam in which I forgot to do one simple calculation that leaded me to mistake all the other results, thus I did bad on it. So... nothing new in school: I’m still a bad student.
Practiced violin, watched the TV, listened to some music... pretty much a simple day.
For some past times of depression I’ve fantasized that whenever I’m about to turn one year older, on my birthday, I suddenly wake up having 13 years old again... so I could repair a lot of errors in my life. Hah... sounds cliché... whatever.
Often I wake up feeling like if I had mud on my veins.
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| hell-o 2006-10-12 18:37:02 ET |
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I printed a few violin methods more to practice them. Casorti, Dancla and Kreutzer. I need more technique for bowing. Heh, I have to look for studies myself since I don’t have a real violin teacher.
My situation with Pamela, the one who freaked my mental health, is rather simple now. Not many messages by cellphone as used to be, occasionally seeing her on msn, but that’s pretty much. Which is fine, I don’t want to fall again into false hopes. I am now down to earth admitting that I’m that lucky person I wished I were like many normal guys.
School is... well, not pretty sure how but not very good. I need to investigate the mathematical model of a levitating object aided by electromagnet... and also have some lab practices pending. I really am no good or interested in my career as I once thought I would be; but I have one year left to finish it now, so I guess there’s no backwards at this point.
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| feeling a bit better 2006-10-01 19:17:00 ET |
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I’m better now. I have recovered some strength, not completely but some.
She started sending me some messages by cellphone again and talked to her on the msn a couple of times, though I torture myself to have in mind that she’ll be only a friend and nothing more. Alas, she then speaks to me of her problem unknowingly similar to me, but on her crush with jimmy, my friend. This situation is what sometimes depresses me sometimes again. That she thinks a lot of him, but isn’t sure if he thinks the same for her, so she depresses, and I’m in the shadow thinking ‘oh crap, what a misery for us’.
The scar on my arm is starting to fade now. I got drunk yesterday to help me forget this shit. Not to forget her, but to forget the feelings. I’m not sure if it worked, I need yet more alcohol for the next time.
I need to remember that I’m not in the beautiful people society. I don’t belong to them. I’m definitely on a subculture more of a state of mind than sociably.
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| Maybe crows also cry. 2006-09-25 20:42:44 ET |
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After a lot of anguish and mental tortures, I’m now trying to put pieces together in my head. I was in love, I did. But now I’m trying to get out of that feeling.
As I mentioned in past entries, I was becoming obsessed with one girl, Pamela, whom I liked a lot. I have now to understand that perhaps she just has a different use for words than the use I have. I mean, she’s very sociable, has lots of friends, and seems to be quite cheerful, thus she has no problem while saying “I like you” or “love you” to her friends. Something that I’m not used at all.
What first called my attention of her was that she said she cut herself on her wrists and arms when she’s depressed or sad or angry, and also because of often having a tough character (she claimed have being in fist fights with other girls and constantly getting n trouble with her parents), also that occasionally goes with some therapist. That is, she had a lot of crazy-ness involved that I’m attracted of women. Then when we spent time chatting we got along so well that the confusion is what severed me.
I don’t know what these words could mean for anyone else that by chance is reading this, or what meant for her, when she said “Ulises, I don’t have enough words to tell you how much I like you”, I couldn’t resist it. I fell.
When she came to visit me a few days ago, with her orchestra, I noticed that she mainly treated me more of a big-brother-friend like... and that was not really the main problem, but that she actually had a crush... but for another person. A friend of mine.
I knew she liked him when I first met her, and I had no problem, but she slowly quit talking about him and started talking more to me than him. Thus it was how I thought she was forgetting him and starting to like me more. What kind of girl sends you near 30 messages to your cellphone on one day? I thought that at first, but I don’t know, maybe I was just exited that someone cared for me once in my life; but maybe not. Maybe as I just stated at the beginning, she’s very social, she has lots of friends, maybe she also sends lost of messages to all their friends everyday, and tell them “she likes them”... yes... perhaps that’s it. I don’t know much of people, I’m not successfully social as many other people, thus I don’t know if that’s what normal people do.
In the 2 days she stayed her, all her friends were joking or commenting about her and her crush on jimmy, my friend. So I couldn’t be as much as exited like them but neither let them see disappointed about it. I feel guilt of also trying to play along with them,... but I was dying on the inside.
When they left, one day after, I kept thinking of all this all day long. And it had been years since I last cried. Now somehow, those tears washed something on my mind, and I feel like I should get back to darkness, to get off that fancy cloud and return to be the ugly beast I really am. What I try to say, is that now I shouldn’t let be tricked with those affection words when someone ever tells them to me again (if ever). I shall be more cold and not trust that easily then. I have learned that there are people that just throw those words so easily.
Along with my tears, my second punishment to help me get over this, was cutting myself with a razor blade too, on my right arm, I wrote just “pam”, as perhaps the last intent of wondering what I once felt for her.
I know I will eventually talk to her again soon, but I’m afraid she might not like this new beast. I don’t know what will happen. Sometimes I think everything would be easier without me.
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| alas 2006-09-22 19:54:53 ET |
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To give friendship to someone asking love is like giving bread to someone dying of thisrt.
It happens all the time.
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