Watched Swimming with Sharks again.  Trying to figure out the answer to

the oft-posed question in the film:  "What is it you really want?"  

And who is it I really want to be?  I feel like I'm leaning more these

days towards being the sort of guy that is formed from the advice Buddy

Ackerman gives.  Fend-for-yourself, no-holds-barred, who needs friends

when you've got success?  Not that I'm succeeding at much these days.

Well, nothing spectacular anyhow.  I sure don't have many friends;  is

that driving me to emotional numbness and Machiavellian philosophy?  Or

have I always had that philosophy, but it's only a part of my character,

and my current dirth of friends is simply an anomaly?  What is it I really

want?  Friends?  FaceTime and Love and Shoulders to cry on, and to provide

my Shoulder?  Or am I tired of being a shoulder?  I've felt like that

recently.  I had to stop myself from saying to someone (line stolen from

The Last Boy Scout): "When you're done feeling sorry for yourself, the

door is that way."  That's how I've been feeling these days.  

Life's not fair?  Grow up, way it goes.

Maybe that's why I get so bored.  Because I realize that 

there are many here among us
who feel that life is but a joke



myself included.  An attitude towards the world that can be summed up in a

simple shrug of the shoulders.  



nothing really matters
anyone can see
nothing really matters
to me



I don't suppose that's healthy.  It's nothing new, really.  I've been

writing since the beginning in here (and feeling it for god knows how much

longer) that I just can't seem to make myself care.  It must be the

depression, it must.  Because I'm sure now that I'm more emotionally

conneted to people on my 'up' [manic?] days.  I'm happy to be alive, and

revel in their company.  Which came first, the lack of friends, or the

depression?  What an ugly, ugly cycle.  

What's the use in success if attaining it brings you no further to

attaining your wants then when you started?  Fuck fuck fuck.

But I HATE most people.  I'm tremendously picky.  I'm a total intellectual

snob, impatient with any stupidity.  Not that I'm all that, but I'm a good

chunk of it, anyhow.  Do I want to. . .what do I want?  What do I want?

WHO do I want?  To share it with?  To experience it with?  What is it?

WhoWhatWhereWhenWHY?  I

i

i

just want some friends

but there are so few that i want

and they're spread out across the country

i 

i

i hate this fucking city

I don't know what to do with myself anymore

i think i still want to be . . . back where. . .i was surrounded by

friends

and had too much free time

and we just wasted it all away

i need people to help me spend all this time i've got burning holes in my

life



there's a hole
in my life
cuts me open like a knife
it leaves me vulnerable
i hate this disease
i shake like an incurable
god help me please


this is ME talking now

not nat hiding behind my layers I've put up to protect against life

this is nat who wants to cry but can't

this is nat who wants someone to be around to hear his tears falling on

the ground



this is my heart 
standing before you
this is me
down on my knees



but of course

I won't be happy if just anyone hears me

I'm not calling out to the wold

I'm not sure who I want to hear me

but there are plenty whose replies to this i couldn't care less about

some (family) because their comfort is well-placed but . . . family love

has never done it for me

andsome because i can't stand their presence

so what i'm back to again

is that i 

don't

know

what

i

want



Aija?  probably not.  my guess is she's my scapegoat of sorts;  i decide

she's the oly thing that would make me happy, put her in an unattainable

position, and chalk everything up to that.  can't be happy, throw up

emotional shields around myself, and go on with my life as an emotionless

drone.  



my shields are down right now

won't you come in?