Results (part 3)

I still can't contact her.
I can get so close, but I can't type anything.
I feel pretty worthless, which is not helping me go back on my decision.
That's the thing, as soon as you bolt, you have to keep running. It gets harder and harder to explain why you ran the longer you go. Especially when you don't really know yourself.

I'm kinda listening, hoping she drops by to yell at me or something. I have it coming, and it would probably wake me up enough to act. I hope so anyway. Maybe I watch too many movies. Damn Hollywood.

Side note, strange visual distortions now, like a clear hair is lying on my field of vision, looped on one end. Or like a stringy darkening of vision. Not too comforting. Especially with just regular cannabis use and being on my second drink in as many hours. More kief than usual, perhaps this is related?

Sound outside! You idiot, you know she's not coming, why would she, you didn't contact her to invite her over. You could have, probably should have, but didn't. Now, what a surprise, alone again. But, it still feels like alone at least, after a day with my parents and uncle, waking up ten minutes before work, this thing hanging over my head all day. I could hardly follow tv or listen to what people said, I'd zone out and think, oh man, I hope she's not sad. Then come back and be totally lost for a moment.

I had an insight earlier, it's like I want to hang out with her, but do I have to come too? If I wasn't there I could go, all ghosty. Of course, that would be hellish, because if I were a ghost, she would surely not mourn my death forever, and if I were to haunt her, I would inevitably be forced to see her with someone else. It would be oh-so exquisitely painful, watching some buffoon do so easily what I can't seem to for the life of me. Quite literally, for the life of me, in that case.

But even now, it's like, where am I heading? Am I just planning to self destruct, and I don't want to bring her down with me? Oh this picking it apart is bad too. I sound so whiny, cowardly, self-righteous and pathetic. Maybe I am doing her a favor. Fuck I wish I could get drunk. No, that's not quite it, sleep? I hope I get a good nights sleep and wake up feeling rested and relaxed. I haven't had that in a while.

I think I've been posting here too much, not enough substance. At the same time, too much is better than none. I'll probably try and cut back a bit, hit the hardcopy books up for some immersive sci-fi reading. Try an stay offline for a bit, so I'm not immediately reminded of what a douche I am every time I log on. Right now, I've not got too much on my mind. I fucked this thing up for now at least, work's pretty much stable. Money's not a big concern, though more would be nice. I've been like getting drunk and chatting with her. And now that she's nearby, I totally lose my nerve and disappear. So, because I've not really been doing much else, I don't have a whole lot in mind to distract me. Just painful reevaluation.

So, read some books, hopefully blow my mind, think about new things, maybe post about them. In time, I'll probably communicate with her, she's not one to hold a grudge. I may have missed my chance with her, but maybe not. Hopefully I will eventually get my head out of my ass and remember how to interact with people again. If not, it could be a long, painful existence.

Results (part 2)

So I sent that offline message. I told her I'd be online later between like 5 and 7. Sure enough, when I appeared offline, she was there. I immediately started to panic. I felt my heart beat getting more intense, louder in my ears. I couldn't think. I signed in for real, no ghosting around. I double clicked her name, I had the window open. Then I froze.

I was thinking to myself, what do I say? Should I just say hey? How's it going? Should I be all intense and ballsy? Maybe that crazy fucker in Dr. Strangelove was half-right, right that we're being poisoned, wrong about it being fluoride. Xenoestrogens, like bisphenol-A. Synthetic chemicals that mimic estrogen in the body, but are not broken down like estrogen, and in fact have been accumulating in our environment for decades now. Controversial effects have been postulated. Even so, lame excuse; I am so riddled with girl-hormones that I don't know how to take the initiative. Fuck I hope that's not true.

It's like not too late to go out even, and I've already resigned myself to hiding. I may slink out to a bar for a night-cap, but even that is unlikely at this point. Do I really think of myself as unworthy of human affection? Am I unreasonably scared of disease? Am I just unable to allow myself to be happy? Why do I keep sabotaging myself? Do I feel unworthy of rest and company? What have I done so wrong that I'd condemn myself to a life of solitude?

I might be more likable if I was mostly sedated. Even some mild brain damage might make me more relateable. I'm like, yah computers, I know how you feel. Wasted. And not in the good way.

I probably want to get my shit together, get the fuck back out of the rents house, get a better job or secure a loan for further schoolin'. Why not wait until I'm done school? OR after the loans are paid? Or after I have my own house? Or after I retire? Yeah, that'll be fun, talking junior to his first day of school at like 71 years old. So go now? ...I cannot.

I'm going to look back at my life someday, and see it as a long string of crushing failures punctuated with minor success' and terrible trade offs. And yet, I feel powerless to change. I'm like, fuck I'm such a scumbag, nobody would want me, and this girl goes "I do", and I'm like, well you must not know me well enough yet. Perhaps if I jerk you around you will see me in a less flattering light. Like, I'm like driving her away, and reaching out when I'm drunk. Wow, I might be a cliche.

I need to do some serious neural pruning I think, too much in my startup files. Gotta trim the fat, less processes running, more focus. Too much information flying around my head, it's like, here's the cynic view, the optimist view, the rich man's view, the crazy man's view, and the religious man's view, all working off the same sensory data, all fighting over how to interpret it. It's not that I have different voices in my head or different personalities(I don't think), but that I can shift my perspective easily to imagine my interests and priorities are different.

Tick-tock, tick-tock. Time's a wasting. I'm sitting here digging in my shit while she's counting down the time she has left in town. What a jerk I must be. Maybe I will make that night-cap after all. Dread and shame right now. Not much fun.

"When life's hard, you have to change"
-Blind Melon

Going to listen to that I think. Good luck.

Results (part 1?)

So, she came and got me, quite late at night.
We drove around for a while, talking, listening to music, smoking.
I could barely stand to look at her. She looked good. It hurts me that I didn't tell her.
I was like paralyzed with fear whenever I felt the sexual energy. But at the same time, I don't think it was a matter of blood for my brain being redirected elsewhere, just like overload. I'm like, ok, if I initiate something, where will it go? And I just don't know. And I stop. And I'm listening and looking and thinking, "What is she thinking? Does she want me to kiss her? She's talking right now. Am I sick with some infectious disease I haven't been diagnosed with?" That sort of thing. She checked the time, I said let's 'Head'er back" or something equally eloquent.

Still though, overall, hardly had my foot in my mouth the whole time. Very few awkward silences. Why couldn't I make a move? What's my block? It's like fucking deja vu; I get down to the beach in a car, and end up talking for an hour, and driving home. One time I initiated, and I achieved some measure of success. Why then, am I seemingly unable to do so again?

Was it because we drove around so long I started to sober up? Even though it was only a little, was it enough to shatter my confidence? I should have invited her in, I realize now that I'm on my second drink since returning. God, what an idiot. I can't even remember what we talked about. I remember a snippet about being religious when it's convenient. Fish tattoo. Fish in general. She had a pipe shaped like a fish. She was wearing glasses. Brown pants. It's like, I spaced out when I was thinking about saying something to lead us, well, together, at least temporarily. When I'd zone back in, I'd lose my nerve and mutter or something.

I don't think I pandered, which is always unappealing. I hope I wasn't too harsh either. Sometimes I can be a little quick on the draw with my comments. What is she thinking now? What does she think of me? Does she think I only like her when I'm drunk? That is not the case, but I can understand how one could think that. I am often much more truthful with regard to my inner thoughts when I am intoxicated. Thus, I am able to tell her how I feel a bit when I'm drunk, not because I'm only attracted to her drunk, but because I've only got the nerve to tell her drunk. Lame excuse or not, it's like fuck, I know I like her, why can't I tell her. I'm angry and laughing at the same time. It's like fuck Marc, you're so stupid sometimes.

So again, overall, it was fun. It was stressful, but that was exciting. I hope she isn't insulted by my not getting sexual. I would like to try this again, perhaps sober from the start, see how that works. Start earlier too, don't wait until 1:30am to get things rolling. More time to ease closer.

What have I learned; I am attracted to her, I still have difficult initiating, marijuana and light alcohol intoxication doesn't cut through the difficulty, I am still concerned that I might be unworthy or apparently unclean, and I AM able to spend time alone with her without it being too awkward. If we had been sitting side-by-side, I'd have put my arm around her, and that would have been a good start. I should try and watch that DVD with her tomorrow, that would certainly provide the right kind of circumstances.

I'll probably send her an offline message(hopefully she's offline) after this telling her that I thought she looked good. Chicks dig that sorta thing. Better late than never I figure. Well, again, time will tell on this one. Good luck.