swirlicious

T-Minus 2 days til a double decker day of my Chinese and Demographics finals.

T-Minus 3 days til I leave for a week long sailing trip. Somehow going in sunlight for prolonged periods of time seemed like a good idea. I really ought to get back in nature since despite my detest of it, I have participated in quite a bit of it. Plus, bumming around is a failure.

It's weird to think that soon I might be called an adult. That I'll have a daily job. That is really something I'm not prepared for. I don't want to grow up, and I don't want to age.

And in the procrastination that is mandatory of finals week, I reflect. More and more my reflection falls on Seb and in the fact that I did love him. In fact, he is the only person in my life that I can honestly say that I loved. He's someone I had legit emotions and he has in no way been replaced by anyone else. I still do love him and I need to make a much larger effort to stay in contact with him. I really hope that he's happy in his current relationship, despite my jealousy.

There's nothing more satisfying than a hug. Strong arms empirically proving my security. Falling asleep in them, being carried to the bed. So many, many memories of him and almost all of them just make me want what we had more. He is adorable and I love him. My absurd standards of guys to date are so much tailored around him it's quite spooky.

I need a passion for life. I need that fire. Too many things in my life that just consume time, pathetic. Hyde Park is the downfall of so many, though I think I was a lost cause far before coming here.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Singlehood is fucking terrible.

To mock others, it seems a sign of weakness. After watching hours of America's Next Top Model, it has assisted in my understanding of people. Yes yes, har har, however it is a fantastic resource to watch people's behavior, as are many of the reality tv programs. My outlets for watching Joe Schmo are limited since the vast majority of U of C is populated by people more socially awkward than I.

But sassing and mocking others just ends up biting you in the ass. It is an easy way to generate camaraderie, however, it's a poor method to sustain it. There just doesn't appear to be a very good reason for belittling others because...everyone deserves respect? Hahaha, sure Miss Squishy. More like it just hurts your available resources. Usually people with low self-esteem contain some uses, and because they are often shunned, you can easily create a relationship that curves in your favor. Plus, you never know what connections people can have and it is always good to network as far as possible.

If you come across like a nice person, people will like and trust you. You can then use this friendship to acquire things. So really, mean people are stupid people. That, or they just have enough resources that they can get away with it.

I must work to improve my social abilities in non-confrontational ways so that I can acquire as many people-sources as possible. And if I pretend to be something, often times I can easily utilize the absorbed qualities to ameliorate myself.

My investment in ANTM proved beneficial at a recent party with a kid from Columbia College in the Loop. I attended a kegger with him, proving myself to be socially independent of him near immediately. I whipped out the old charisma, I even successfully flirted with several girls. They still have super fucking creepy parts, but its good to know that I could breed were I to desire...or maybe that's a bad thing...

The party I went to actually had one of the girls from ANTM there the weekend before. She's a regular at this apartment, which was also quite an amazing, multi-floor condo. If I can play my cards right, I could be partying with models in no time. Then I could make all the breeder boys jealous.

What's that? You spent the night in the reg? Oh, me? Well you know, the usual. Went clubbing downtown and ended up at one of my model friend's apartments and had a pillow fight.

So what could make Yu-Gi-Oh even more awesome? It already generated a trading card game that it constantly cheats and is missing plot left and right. I mean, I know when I played MTG tournaments I wouldn't bother learning what the cards did...

BUT YEAH! SO LETS TAKE LIKE YU-GI-OH...AND PUT IT ON FUTURISTIC MOTORCYCLES. OMG I'M A GENIUS.

http://animethunder.com/yu-gi-oh-5ds-episode-1/

My sox have been roxed. I like the part where the guy summons 2 monsters and then attacks and then turns 2 of them into a super monster and then attacks with that and then those 2 monsters summon another monster and then he plays another monster and then makes two super monsters...and then ends his 2nd turn. Fuck rules, summoning sickness is for losers.

I just don't know what to do or what to say.

I never know when you'll hate me, when you'll abandon me. That one point where it's over and you've had enough. All I want is for you to love me and I'ld do what I could to make it so. Just tell me what you want, and then I could do it. But no, you desire squishy logic that I lack.

Studying has been insufficient cause I'm still lost.

I'll sit in your lap. See, I go to the gym now, and I even eat healthy. Soon enough I will be pretty enough for you, so then will you love me?

Thinking, all this effort to think, and in the end it has only brought about isolation. If I had been a toy from the start I wouldn't have scared them away. They could fondle and grope me, and I wouldn't know that that wasn't love.

The undecorated walls are naked. You can see each crevice and crack. The gum left from posters that used to doll it up. I find them mesmerizing. And when I stare at the, the light bleeds in from the ceiling. It spikes and flares, blinding my right eye. It pixelates my world that is this shabby room.

I've been trying not to be a dick. Really fucking hard, but I think I fucked it all up. And shit is going to get rough. My mind will split and I'll try to hurt you, and then I'll come crying and apologizing. Then I'll probably do it again.

The fucking happy normies. With their lives I am so envious of. They have a reason to live, beliefs and desires that make everything worth it.

I'll die in a couple hours and the morning will come and maybe I'll be better. Maybe my mind will have reset enough that I'll be bubbly-go-lucky again.

Why do I get the shittiest of the squishy? Panicked and paranoid. I can see so many ways that it fell apart and of course thinking it just promotes it. Fuck, just when I thought I could get my shit together.

I haven't been talking to Diabetes lately. I don't know how to go about talking to him at the moment. Maybe he cares enough to read this and can help.

Things are only as big of a problem as I make them. I don't lack as much squishy as I think I do. Really I just dwell on the wrong side of the fence.

Oh how I do so much better with acquaintances. Never there long enough for them to realize the façade.


I think reality terrifies me more than normal, like a lot more severe than it should. But why?

Why?

Can duplicating squishiness suffice? Can I be happy merely replicating what I believe to be proper behavior? For the most part, my behavior models seem to work out relatively well. Or at least, as long as I can sustain them, which has been increasing in duration recently.

After eating a bit too much of a delicious meal, we went back to his room and laid down on the Murphey bed. I passed out near immediately. Held close, it was security. Is that what my happiness was? I rarely get to lay so close to anyone, much less successfully fall asleep while being touched. His arms wrapped around my small torso, I felt so protected.

You know, sometimes I'm genuinely bashful. I blush, I get awkward and timid. Squishiness has been successfully implemented, at least partially.

I'm losing control on the drug switch. It keeps flipping on, and at times it's really hard to flip it back off. It's quite tempting to drop everything to just stare at the patterns of cracks on the wall. To get close and pet it. Possibly even lick the paint, cause you never know, it could be tasty. But, it's a weakness. I need to keep my composition with a focus on education. I shall keep happy-bubbly-go-lucky switch prompted, ready at a moments notice for socialization.

I'm not a terrible person, I'm just quirky.

I'ld really like to learn to care. Sometimes I think I do. It's hard.

To close my eyes and feel the swell. The concept of laying down, with the window open. A small draft to send a tiny chill. To make the room warm temperature truly feel warm.

My finger tips are elated. They stretch.

I miss Seb. I miss Sean living close by. See, I'm squishy too. All I want is someone to love me.

Having conquered the cold of Chicago, the Gays have persevered, but not without sacrifices. However, Spring offers reinforcements to thwart the ever advancing Lesbian infestation, to reclaim the territory that has been overrun.

The Son of Dick has returned to aid the Lycan Lupus, whose morale had been waining with the moon. His comrade, the Bear, has been thirsting for raw meat. The time for battle is approaching.

Cotton Candy Rage has grown tired of the talk of men.

The strewn, religiously-named boys have ended in me being less than converted.

Tomorrow is an empty date.

Size 0 eye candy spent on the blind who only appreciate it via groping.

But hey, if my personality continually fails to reel the studs in, this can temporarily sustain me, right?

Three days a week at the gym and maybe I can find love…well at least infatuation.
I mean, it’s not like my interpretation of love is healthy in the first place. If sporting pecs and a six pack can buy me dinner, it’s close enough. If being ripped can smuggle some snuggle, then there's no punch to that "No".

-

I’m the faggiest when I got a man. You never truly get over catching the Gay. Its crutches are worse than Polio’s aftermath. It’s scarring worse than that of the Pox. Sure, for a couple bouts, you’ll do alright. But this bitch has 150 VIT and 3K HP, and you’re pDif isn’t even close.

I find that a good date is one where I forget that it's gay. Where orientation is never considered, just assumed. It sounds silly, but there's so much emphasis about preferences that the lack of it is much welcomed. Needless to say, this weekend's date went quite well.

Conversation about throwing knives, banking, mortuaries, mountain biking, broken bones.

"i like hot boys who are jumpy and cling to me like they need me yes"

Mountain Bike Moguls
A flight of fancy, 15 feet from the crossbar
Gravel imbued bravery, the right side defeated
With the collar bone protruding: sliced, not fractured.
A bump, a hump remains- the badge of breeder
Converses, a sacrifice for weakened ankles
Knives-and lasers-to butch it up.

These passed several weeks have been quite busy. Often being out and about is quite nice.

A very odd confrontation of an infamous individual. It turns out that the majority of the people I know dislike this kid, and in reaction my opinion has shifted. A point of reference.

Life is grand at times. Let's see where it decides to go.

Apparently the cookie monster only eats cookies sometimes now.

I think it's cause he has diabetes. Cookie monster amputee who lost a foot.

Soon he will be replaced by cookie semi-enthusiast. He likes cookies too, but he knows moderation.

An invitation to a mistake, which I obviously accomplished in mighty glory. Juggling bad decisions on all fronts: dead end attractions by multiple parties and awkward encounters at respective parties.

Relationship skills of fail.

Heh, a glance south and I see two amusing stories. Off to the left, another one. To think if I ever had any normal relationships with people that didn't result in such extreme results. Sandwiched is a fourth story waiting to be enjoyed and exploited.

Lawlercoaster of Win I tell you!

Huzzah for Dervish stories!

Hurray for Chinese vocab!

Hooray for Frogland!

Sidereels is of win. Catching up on the Simpson episodes I've missed, and watched Juno and Ratatouille. Amazing how medias make things cheery.

Somehow within the last week I've managed to become involved in a large group of the Gays and their affiliates. My sardonic tone of voice and choice diction does not prove to be the most effective way in dealing with them, though there's two exceptions.

Gays and I don't really work out in the best of friendships. I'm just not sure how to behave. They pretty much fall into two categories: guys I've dated and/or slept with, and then the other guys. I don't really know where boundaries are and if I don't have any interest in dating them, it tends to be either me being very awkward or being an asshole (funny because the asshole bit tends to work out quite often whereas awkward just comes across like I'm a douche).

I'm trying to make the most of the situation and move beyond my limitations as a person. Sometime this month I need to go to Boystown. The Gays seem quite fond of the place so perhaps I can go and feel pretty.

Oh, what it would be like to have Real People feelings. To wonder around from a Real Person's perspective. No longer would I be oblivious to the social norms nor would I be of things above 5 feet.

Queerer than a $3 bill.

My goal is to be able to properly socialize with 20% of the people I encounter. Currently... I'ld say I am probably around 10%. It is quite odd who I manage to interact with on some sort of successful level. All sorts of people in all sorts of ways, but I'm still only around a 10% success rate. Fortunately for me I can absorb characteristics and traits via the media, which having recently finished Death Note, I leveled up my critical thinking. Limit break bish.

Encountering a situation I can fully reconstruct the logic of and steps of while lacking any memory of it. Apparently I told a friend I'ld call her to go to Valoi's. I don't remember it, but her mentioning of it made sense because she had bailed the last 3 times. It seems trivial, although it is just very odd when I don't remember asking her, yet I can see exactly why I asked her, i.e. was going to ask her again when she mentioned Valoi's.

So unfortunately no news back from the Columbia boy, which is a bummer, but I can't say I am super shocked. I have made an effort, being as mellow as possible while still conveying interest. Perhaps the situation isn't as bleak as it looks, or rather I am just viewing it with a biased. A date at the end of the week before last. I'll try to chit chat it up on aim, maybe work out plans for that second date.

Focus! Must focus!

There's just something about the majority of my conversations that just is awkward and rushed. I begin to get anxious, mispronounce words, and pretty much want to end the conversation as soon as possible.

There are varying degrees to which I do this, but it's very bothersome. My social skills really are just fail. Conversations online, or any written one, are just much easier. On the plus side I've restrained from being too awkward around the boy, though still slightly quirky.

Fuuuuck. Everything is antsy. Jittery. Oh, how it would be nice to function on a normal level. Or at least learn to adapt functionally. I am really trying to work on interacting with people in a healthy way. Trying to build close relationships with people. The relationship bit is just so fucking difficult. I realized that I don't really have anyone involved with the university that I could get a recommendation letter from, so my new adviser that I've met once is writing one.

At least I've made some progress, right?

This passed weekend my roomie decided to wake me up by barging into my room screaming "WAKE UP FAGGOT!"

So, one would think that this would obviously be a horrible thing to do. On the contrary, it turns out I love being startled awake. This has lead to an agreement with me giving him free reign to shout, shake, or soak me in the morning.

This morning I was barely not asleep when I heard creeping. Before I could think much of it the covers got pulled back, there was yelling from both of us, and then a glass of water to the face.

It was fucking awesome. I've had random twitching from catching myself from just laughing hysterically all morning. I wish I could wake up that way everyday.

There is something I love about being woken up by shouting or shaking, today was a really nice way to wake up with,

WAKE UP FAGGOT!

I've been reading a collection of Dervish tales recently that my dad gave me to improve my world view. My first memory of anything Dervish related, however, was nothing close to an erudite. It is, in fact, the Whirling Dervish Magic The Gathering card. Two green mana for a 1/1 prot black soldier that gained +1/+1 for each successful attack to an opposing player. It's a super neat card considering it came out near a decade ago and the cards today are far more complicated.

I had a date yesterday, which I am still unsure how well it went. I'ld really hope it went well, however, I can't shake the feeling it didn't. Anytime I find anyone interesting, attractive, what have you, my first reaction is always to become paranoid and over read everything for fear of rejection.

It's kind of odd how much drugs tend to play a part in my life. The quirky bit about it is that they shape my actual environment, rather than most people who use it to shape their perspectives of it; i.e. drugs are around me, but their effects are vicariously ingested through the altered people.

I need to find myself, in some overly dramatic and cliche way. My indecision towards life is becoming bothersome. I need to grow up and drop my little unique tantrums, since they only end up causing more problems. Such as, I find pale skin to be attractive, but I don't really have too much of a preference on sunlight. Sure, I'll whine and preach the dietary benefits from lack of exposure, but really my only qualm is I hate being hot, which is often associated with sunlight. I don't mind the outside, I just don't especially like to get dirty.

-

I saw the sky open today. A brown oval of a window beside the sky risers.

Ethan from Ctrl-Alt-Del is my hero. And I need to find a Lucas, that would be mighty keen. It would be neat to have someone to be dependent upon.

My goals and aspirations are really fucked up. I have a feeling they will probably start becoming even larger problems. My room is trashed again. I can't find my screw driver, which I was using last week to tinker with my desktop (which is up and running again!).

Been listening to Pansy Division a lot recently. And "The Previous" both of which are great bands.

I need to not sleep so much. Sleeping is just pure fail. Every morning should be baileys and coffee, then more coffee throughout the day, and never sleeping longer than 4 hours in one sitting. Fuck sleep.

Things are better when I don't sleep I think. Or when I get slightly drunk. Though paranoia is becoming a problem again. I wish I could remember states of mind better.

Jeez, fucking be nice if I could remember much with some sort of first-personness to it. I am just fail on so many levels that it's intimidating, yet there is always room to improve prowess.

So it's time to focus on an intro to industrial org problem set. Yes, let us talk about our current actions. Yes, wonderful. Ahha, string theory! And fuck TA's who don't show up to the first discussion session for the first problem set.

I am probably a pretty angry person.

I also decided to paint my room black for sure. I really want to have black walls with eyes all over them. And a transmutation circle on the ceiling. Win.

For whatever reason I managed to work a solid 6 hours straight on my econometrics homework problem set. I am very proud of myself considering this have been the largest effort toward classes in awhile, on top of being successful at the invested effort. This quarter shall be interesting as always. Hopefully I can keep up the OCD homework this quarter.

Also: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7IQDH0zOqzg&feature=related

Everything is better with sketch.