2:26pm

Good afternoon!

The one good thing I find about living is that in the whirlwind of each week, I least remember the negative emotions. I guess maybe this is how it's supposed to be, but it feels like a new experience for me.

At night I wish for something more with J, but at the same time I feel inadequate. I wrote this to explain the feeling:

Oct. 30th - 11:53pm

I mean, maybe he feels the same way, you know? Maybe it's not psyche and it's just my faulty human emotions for once. I would give anything to be proved wrong about this . . .

And I haven't divulged my true feelings and misgivings about this to anyone - I just don't think they would understand. He doesn't feel like someone I met at camp, because, don't get me wrong - I love camp - but it's not my home, I don't fit in there, and he doesn't feel like camp; he feels like my dreams, my imagination, my delusions and every saturated silly hope. 

And I feel stained and weak.

I feel loud and embarrassing and wrong. 

I feel like I was only meant to watch those I love, and never engage with them.

I feel like I would only ruin their lives but at the same time I feel like I could be so good for everyone too. 

I'm a mess, and I think he is too and I want him so bad.

But wanting him like this makes me feel wicked. Crazy. Totally out of line . . .

Is it normal? To want someone you barely know? To picture how good you could be realistically just based on what little fragments you know of their true personality?

To guess them into being perfect for you and actually being right. I have no bad intuition about him being right for me on all matter of unimportant principles and checking boxes, but still . . .

Is it normal? Am I not creepy for doing this, feeling this, and thinking these things?

Am I not a freak?

But I fear I am not fully capable of deciding that for myself, because I have the deepest empathy for everyone, how much more myself, who I know better than anyone, and yet, so many people misunderstand me. I am not a narcissist, by any means. But what I am trying to say is that I have no right to decide what I am, good or bad, when I am so frequently and grossly misunderstood by other people, that anything I decide about myself is quite frankly discarded without so much as a thought, and I become some mutilation of my true spirit, contorted into a bottle where people only see so much through the tinted glass.

So I am afraid. Deeply and fully afraid. Of everyone, everything, second guessing my own motives from every point of view until I am no longer myself and my actions are no longer my own, nor my thoughts, because I strive so to think from others' minds in order to come across in the best way possible . . . until I am not even doing what I want, but what I think is the best. And perhaps that is not always bad, but I spend so much time in my head that conversation becomes a near impossible with someone like J, and the biggest problem of all is that, so is he, and he also over thinks and second guesses and I'm tied up in a ball of yarn and my stomach is in knots and I don't know how to say anything without sounding like a blunt and hideous script. What is this?! My mind is all ink spots and finger smudges and pepper shakers (Richard Swiveller reference). On what? A never ending scroll - Wet tissue paper - Crinkled paper stained with tea - a wall? I don't know . . . I don't know . . .  I don't know . . .

Actually, the never ending scroll sounds pretty accurate . . .

I miss my Kdramas, but I had to get rid of my Viki subscription when I ran out of money. 
I miss J but I don't feel like I have the right to.

I want a job but I hate driving.

I want to want something without having to start a war just to get it.

And I should be a lot more grateful.

-SS