Strangely Contemplative
Yeah. Song lyrics for little pop songs. I figure that I might be able to use my propensity for being attracted to emotionally crippled girls and pining after them to write some songs that the kids can relate to. Or something.
Esentially nothing to write about. No more pining about unrequited love. MysteryGirl/MG/Meg and I have been in communcation and after several attempts to achieve clarity through the novel idea of using the English language the issue has been resolved. The issue had long sinced ceased to be "I like you but I don't know how to follow it up since I told you," and instead had become "What's the story? I'm not the only person who saw you sending signals my way, others noticed it too, so tell me what the hell you are doing to my mind!!!". After being brutally smashed into an aware state by Patrick, who claims that he's been saying it since the beginning of this episode - I still claim that he only began saying it when I began listening (Oooh. Zen moment. Trees in vacant forests and all that) and that unholy "If you're not for me" song on the radio (please DO NOT TELL ME I EVER SOUNDED LIKE THAT PATHETIC CRAP!!!), I have come to the realisation that someone, who sends signals, is disturbed at the response, decides that if they ignore the response it will go away, then when it doesn't go away pretends like no signals ever transpired to be sent, but is still faced with a response is probably one of the three people on earth more emotionally insane than myself.
Now, after discussions in English (not "girlspeak" which, like the langugages spoken by Inuit Eskimo and the aliens from "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" have no direct English equivalents or translatable fragments) it has come down to the fact that somehow it is all my fault, despite that fact that I was only a willing pawn in this charade, being manipulated by someone who unleashed a beast and didn't know how to control it or deal with it, which has caused hurt feelings and a bit of emotional scarring. Scarring of course in the, "Look at my finger. I burnt the edge with the iron," sense as opposed to the, "Look at my body. I burnt it with sulphuric acid," sense.
I don't feel any more mature but thanks to that person I am hardened with yet another layer of cynicism and mistrust with which to impede my ability to satisactorily begin or maintain... actually, I've never been able to begin one...my ability to satisfactorily begin a relationship with a member of the opposite gender in a romantic sense.
That said, please girls, don't stop trying.
