So, it's been a long time. Yous guys got a problem with that?

If you do, oh well. This blog is all about me anyway. Who cares about you? Me, me, me, me, me, me, me!

Speaking of which...I've been feeling kinda crappy lately, so I'm going to vent here. Deal. Or don't. Just don't expect me to care either way. So...

I have this guy friend. And I have this very blushing, school-girlish, going-no-where (mainly because I have a bf who I love and wouldn't dream of leaving) crush on him. He's wonderfully intelligent, cynical, and awkward and he's great. I am not alone in feeling this. Pretty much everyone ever is crazy about him, but for some reason he didn't take the attention seriously and never actually tried to pursue any of the vast options he had. However, in the last couple of weeks, I think he's realized that he is a senior, he has nothing to lose, and that he really is as attractive as everyone is always saying he is. Long story short, he's lost the timidity and now he's juggling like 5 or so women.

Great for him. And I'm really serious about that. I'm happy for him. He's a great guy and he deserves some play. When I get into the emotions this change has brought up in me, don't mistake it for mere cattish jealously, because it's not. Shoot, I never had any intention of getting with him, so it's not that I'm mad that I don't have the opportunity now. I am jealous, but not of the girls spending time with him. It's more than that. I'm jealous of him, of that freedom he's found, of all the options he has.

Another warning: I am not jealous of his being single and being able to date as many people as he wants, although at first that's what I thought it was. I thought maybe I was bored with my relationship. I thought maybe I just get tired of the same person after about 2 years (if one is to judge by my relationship history). I thought maybe I might be one of those people who need periodic change, who can never be happy with one person, who'll always think 'what if.'

But then I realized it's not that. I know myself. 2 weeks tops and I'd be so depressed by the emptiness of jumping from person to person without having any deep, substancial relationship with any of them and I'd be ready to tear out my hair. The fact of the matter is that kind of single lifestyle has never appealed to me. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I am, at the core, a solitary, melancholy, introverted, antisocial, person. All of my social interactions are superficial and devoid of any meaning, as far as I'm concerned. It's all bullshit. It's all play (in the theatrical sense). And I'm a bad actor at that. I don't want a single trivial relationship more than is necessary. Thus, 5 guys hanging around to do nothing more than flatter and fuck me = not appealing.

So, I am not jealous of the single lifestyle. I like my relationship. It's closer to perfection than I would ever be bold enough to ask for or think I deserve. I'm comfortable with it and happy in it. And it keeps me sane to know there is at least one person out there who knows me well enough that, if I died this second, could pass on a close to accurate representation of me to others so that I wouldn't just dissappear from the record of human history. But I digress.

Point is, I don't want to be single. I want to be free. And granted, my guy friend isn't free now, but he's more free than he was a week ago, so his situation got me to thinking: I really am banging my head against the bars of my invisible prison right now and it hurts. I am so fucking stuck where and I right now and I always will be. Don't mistake me - by where I am, I don't mean school, or MA, or in a relationship; I mean organized society as a whole. Everything is so laid out and preplanned. Everything is so limited. I can do this, I can't do that. Any deviation from the blueprint has serious consequences, which usually entail you being screwed for the rest of your life in some way or another.

And I'm just sick of it. I'm sick of having to go to class, of having to do homework, of having to get a job I'll hate just to live comfortably. When the fuck do I get to live at all? I don't want to pencil my bf in around my schedule. I don't want to have to fit my sexuality in when there's time and supress it when there's not. I don't want to relegate my passions in life to the realm of 'free time' which never materializes.

Routine is a fucking killer. I'm never finished with the things I have to do. I just takes breaks, because sometimes I'm too exhuasted to go on. Or sometimes I feel like if I spend one more second doing some bullshit that I could care less about while the years roll by, I will fukcing lose my mind. Like seriously. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to bang my head against the cement walls of my room. I want to hit things. I want to hit myself. I want to sleep even though I can never make up for all the hours I've lost or be well rested ever again.

Call it laziness if you like. But I feel oppressed.

People are supposed to work their whole lives, so that they can be free in old age. Both my mother and my grandmother died at age 47. What happens if I work and work and work and never get to live? What kind of life is that?

What's the point of life? Ever since I've been able to comprehend the question, my answer has always been: TO LIVE. There's nothing before life that I can remember and as far as any of us know, there's nothing after. We make a metaphysical debate out of what is a natural process. Sperm, egg, life, death, decay. We come and we go and the world remains. Even the greatest men and women, the ones that have changed the world, only have minimal significance in the present moment. We might document their existence or their actions or their image or their words. But we don't really remember them, because we don't really know them. Is that worth working your whole life for: to be a sentence in a history book. Isn't it more important to be happy while you're alive than to be vaguely recalled when you're dead?

But what can you really do? What can I really do? I see no way out...