Dark Blue

"Do good because you ought to, not because you wish it unto yourself."

It's just over 1 AM on a Friday night (Saturday morning?) and... I've never felt so alone in my life.

Salut,
~J

Centennial-in-progress

"Everything has a beginning, and an end. Nothing lasts forever, because if it did, it wouldn't have any worth or value."

The 100th post. I never thought I'd ever actually get close to this, what with my sporadic posts. Well, this just might be my last post, ever. End on number 100, right?

But I don't really want to end this blog yet. I mean, I probably won't post anything for weeks to months at a time, but that doesn't mean it won't have any kind of activity, ever.

People have pretty much ignored this. Which is good; now I can actually write what I want to write. As for the few who do read this, well, good for you, for being privy to my thoughts. It's not as if your idea of how I am matters to me.

I'm busy listening to this playlist I have on YouTube. Most of them are sad songs, though, so I'm not really sure why I'm listening to them.

Maybe it's because I read somewhere that listening to sad songs when you're sad will help move you out of that sad feeling.

Or maybe I'm remembering it wrongly.

I don't know.

I don't know a lot of things. I mess up a lot of things. I hurt a lot of people. I'm just a ball of disappointment, rolling around causing pain and disappointment to everyone I know. I can't even get her to smile without screwing up in some other way.

My social life is barely alive. My love life is screwed nine ways to Sunday. My finances are unstable and uncertain. My academics are barely breathing.

I just... want this fear, this doubt, this uncertainty, to end. I just want all of it to end.

"I had that dream again where I was lost for good in outer space. Tell me, doctor, how to shake a waking nightmare that is only worse when I'm sleeping."

Please, doctor. I need to know.

Salut,
~J

All These Feels

"There's always a cry for help. You just have to know what to look for."

I'm listening to all these songs, seeing all these conversations, reading all of these pictures that are just... putting me closer to despair. I dunno, I just... it's so hard sometimes. It's hard, putting up that brave and happy facade. Pretending that I'm being myself, when it's just another front. Not saying what I really want to say because of how it'll affect someone else. Not having someone who won't be affected.

It's why I used to love Twitter. I was there, and no one I knew followed me, or even knew of its existence. I could just say whatever I wanted. Then one person found me. Then another. And another. Before you know it, a ton of friends are following me, and I have to once again create the persona that everyone knows me by. Once again I have to pretend that I'm not someone who I was.

That's when I began spamming retweets and minute-by-minute Tweets. It was an attempt to get people to unfollow, and to make it harder to find the real nuggets that was me within everything.

I'm tired.

Tired of pretending that I'm fine. Tired of smiling, of "being happy".

But if I'm not, people ask. People question. People start thinking that they have to do something, that they have to advise me in some way.

That when I start ranting and raving and come close to tears, people don't listen, or don't care, and when they do, they have their own problems, and I'm just another burden.

I resent that this blog is known by people I know, because one of them might eventually read this post. Then they'll start asking questions, trying to reach out to me.

I don't want it. Not anymore. Please respect that.

Honestly?  I haven't been. Not in a long, long time. And the brief period when I was, I had to go and screw it up. Thanks a lot, self, for being an A-class Asshole.

Clouds, Bullet and Believe are on repeat.

I still have this, from a site I used to regularly visit.

The world is our oyster. Remember that.

Salut,
~J

Perfect ending for the perfect birthday.

"It's just another year older, another candle added, another notch notched. No big deal."

So.

I'm 20 now.

La-dee-da-dee-da.

I feel so old now.

I know, I'm only 20. Still, I just feel like I've passed this barrier, that I'm actually supposed to grow up. I guess it's about time I really did that.

It... hasn't been a good year. Especially the past couple of months.

I screwed up.

No, I fucked up.

And I'll probably never be able to fix this.

...

I truly am sorry. For everything.

Salut,
~J