I’m don’t want to complain, but it’s hard not to sometimes.Â Every day it’s like another day made lame.Â I’m here with nobody.Â Maybe if I compromise things would be better, but that’s not me.Â I guess I’m strongwilled in that area … or something.Â Put straight, I’m sick of living here.Â Just sick.Â It seems like everyone is set in their cliques and to enter into theirs you have to fit into it some sort of way.Â Maybe I’m wrong.Â Maybe I haven’t given this city enough chance.Â I can count on one hand the number of “good” things that I’ve learned (or succedded in) since moving here.Â Honestly, I don’t want to be.Â Ever.Â I’d rather have no friends here, than a bunch of them that have no common sense (as most don’t, it seems).
The best thing I can do now is just smile, and act happy.Â Inside, though, I’m not even sure.Â It’s a cross between so many feelings right now.Â I wish everything would just pass, and I could rewind five years.Â I guess what it is, is that once you’ve been at one point and are slingshotted back a few thousand feet, it’s kind of like dying, only you still live and long to be back where you once were.Â At least at the origin you had people you could confide in (even if they weren’t the best of friends).
I probably should go to a good course, such as The Furnace, Masters Commission, or twentyfourseven.Â I doubt I ever will.Â I probably need it, but I doubt I’ll ever go.
I’ve been thinking about just saying no to “looking”, “trying to look”, “bothering to look”, “not-bothering to look”, etc. for a girlfriend/wife/whatever.Â Paul said it was better to be single.Â If I make the statement public, that’d mean that anytime I were asked, told, etc. I could just say “I’m not trying or wanting to date”.
I’ve learned to drive my car — alone — to all social events now.Â This way I can get there, sit down, eat, and leave.Â Not sit down, eat, and bore myself to death.Â No one socializes with me, I’d rather be at home doing something more … productive.
It’s almost time for church, so I guess I need to stop typing all these (lame)Â thoughts.