there’s nothing like doing some writing to combat boredom. boredom and frustration. while my life continues to progress and change, i can’t help but feel stuck and alone. granted, these are feelings i’m used to and as such know how to deal with them. nonetheless i’m compelled to write.

in the last couple of years my writing has improved, if only just a bit, simply because of these feelings. i write more often than i once did, even though most of the time i don’t really feel like i’ve got anything to write about. tonight is no different. i don’t know that i’ve got anything particularly interesting or inspiring to say, but here i am writing just the same.

i think part of the reason i do more writing is that when i’m bored one of my favorite things to do is listen to music: just sit and listen. and since it’s easier to listen to mp3s than it is to flip in and out cds, i spend the majority of my bored hours in front of the computer. that being the case, i write. of course, i also like to type. there’s just something fluid about typing that i enjoy and as a result, my typing has improved as well.

now, i know none of you really care about my writing skills or the frequency of my writing, you’re here to see what i have to say. i guess, then, that i should stop with the jibber jabber and focus in on a topic for this most recent writing spree…. let’s see… well, i have a hard time making small talk when i’ve got something working in my brain (which is more often than you might think). the problem with that is twofold. for one thing, if i write about what’s really on my brain currently, i immediately place myself in the dilemma i wrote about in the previous posting. for another, i feel like its the same shit i always write about, in which case, you’ll probably find it terribly boring and pathetic. so what do i do?
i don’t know why i bother asking questions like that. none of you ever respond or make comments to what i write. let me say that’s a bit frustrating. my postings would more likely be diverse and interesting if you all made comments. right now i’ve got nothing to feed off of but my own self-deprecation. if you people actually contributed every now and then, that might be different. i guess it’s not good, though, to bad mouth your audience…. so, we’re back to coming up with a topic for this posting….

i can’t help but return to the dilemma at hand. do i post whatever it is i’m thinking and feeling regardless of the consequences, or do i sensor myself for the sake of ease and safety? a diary generally isn’t a thing for public consumption. the things you write in it are for your own sake and not for the eyes of others. isn’t that right? you have little girls all across the country with locks on their diaries so their brothers can’t read about the boy they like, or what they did the other day while her parents were out of the house.

of course, she keeps that diary locked because she’s afraid of getting grounded or being ridiculed. would she keep it so safe if she weren’t worried about the consequences of others reading such things. i do worry about the consequences, but the question is, should i worry? it’s the same thing, i worry about the girl i like reading the things i might write about her. i worry about how friends might take a posting about them.

i think the biggest concern comes from what might be a lack of context for a particular posting. they may read it and take more from it than was intended. they may also put their own interpretation on what it is i might write, without asking me about it. they might get creeped out by the things i think and feel. shock, surprise, anger… who knows what someone might feel after reading a posting that directly concerns them.

it would seem, after all this, that i should have no dilemma at all. i don’t want friends pissed at me and i don’t want to blow any chance i might have with a girl. just don’t post anything controversial. of course, that seems like the reasonable conclusion, but if i’m not going to be honest, if i’m not going to put myself out there all the way, then is there any point in me even having this site and posting these things? i would say no.

also, while its true that i do worry about these things, i wish that i didn’t. i don’t want to be thinking about what this or that person might say, or how they might react when they read a posting. i don’t want to be censored, even by myself. can i, then, deal with the chance that things might happen that i don’t want? can i deal with the idea that i might upset friends? obviously, i could keep going, but i think i’ve repeated myself for one posting. it’s clear at this point that this isn’t something that’s going to be resolved in one night….

so, i’ve got a bit of a dilemma. in truth, it’s a dilemma i’ve had since i started posting these things online. the idea of this online journal is that the people who come here and read it get a sense of what i’m about and who i am. the dilemma is this: do i sensor myself? the things i write about come straight from my gut, with little or no editing (hence any spelling or grammar mistakes). that can be dangerous, especially since i sometimes write about the people i know and the people i’m friends with… and so on.

now, there’s a good chance that none of the people i write about would come across anything i might say about them, because it seems there are very few people who actually check this page on a regular basis. nonetheless, the chance exists. for instance, i have a friend who recently got married and i think it was a bad idea. i wanted to post my thoughts and feelings on the subject, but ultimately decided against it because i didn’t want them mad at me as a result of what they might read. there are other things too… like if there’s a girl i’m interested in, i’m not sure it’s a good idea to say anything specific because they might choose to check out my site and read the particular entry which deals with them. without a context or an introduction, such entries can look a little strange to someone who may not know me that well.

having said all this, i go back to my original statement of censorship. if i’m picking and choosing what to post, then people are only getting a snapshot of who am i, because i’m editing myself. i know that’s something we all do, to some extent, but i don’t really like that philosophy. i’m supposed to be proud of who i am, right? so then, why should i care what someone thinks of me after they’ve read a little of what’s posted here? well, when it comes to girls i’m interested in, it could seriously hurt my chances. when it comes to friends, it has the potential to ruin a friendship. i don’t want either of those things to happen. so what do i do?

being someone who likes to write, someone who likes to purge their thoughts and feelings onto digital paper this second guessing, this worrying can quite a nucience. i’m not sure what to do. part of me wants to say ‘fuck it’ and just write whatever i feel. then there’s another part that doesn’t want to hurt my chances with a girl by saying something stupid and doesn’t want to hurt my friends by saying something that may not need to be said. of course i could just put all these things in writing and then just don’t post them, but doesn’t that ultimately defeat the purpose of the weblog? if i’m going to sensor myself, should i then just close the site and keep all my little thoughts to myself? i don’t know.
the ultimate reason for the existence of this site is to get input from those who might read it. so far, though, that hasn’t happened. on more than one occasion, i’ve asked for input and assistance from my readers (no matter how few they might be). of course, i don’t really expect at this point for any input from any of you (i know better by now), but as a writer and as someone who is constantly asking questions, i can’t help but put the question out there anyway.

do i stick to my gut and let the consequences be damned, or do i show discression for my own sake as well as the sake of those i care about? i’ll let you know what i decide.

20-somethings at chabad? really? who knew? granted, i’ve only been there once, but i got the distinct impression that it was a small group with no one younger than me but children, not to mention the total lack of girls. maybe i judged too quickly. but do i really want to date an orthodox girl? not really. don’t get me wrong, i was happy with jessica, but i didn’t really think of her as an orthodox girl. i still don’t. not really.

so, maybe its worth another shot, huh? i mean, i’d already been thinking that, and i don’t really expect to ‘meet’ anyone there anyway. let’s be honest, though, i don’t really expect to ‘meet’ anyone at all. i’ve more or less given up on the notion of ‘meeting’ someone. don’t get me wrong, i can’t deny the possibility exists, it’s always existed.

my previous notions of fate and destiny were fool hearty, arrogant. the idea was a foolish attempt to make myself feel better about my situation. i don’t think anything can do that except time. in time, i’ll be able to accept the lonely course my life has taken. i can only live each day in the hope that the next will be brighter (such the pathetic poet am i).

it’s a strange thing, though, i always feel confident, positive whenever i finish a session with my shrink. if only i could go everyday. if only i could hold on to that feeling of confidence, maybe i could change the course of my life.

there’s something about being surrounded by well-adjusted people that makes you feel even worse about yourself, that is, of course, if you’re not well-adjusted yourself. honestly, i don’t know why i haven’t thought about this before, considering the fact that i’ve spent the last two years of my life socializing with well-adjusted people. then, of course, there was high school, which was a similar situation… well, maybe. i can’t say for sure that there’s such a thing as a well-adjusted high school student. maybe it’s all relative. what do i know.

and nearly all the women i’ve been attracted to and/or have dated were not well-adjusted. is it that the most interesting people are messed up, somehow, or is it that i have a thing for screwed up girls? i mean, i can look at a the short list of girls that i’ve actually dated (regardless of how brief the relationship might have been) and they were all messed up, at least at the time they were: tara, amy, jessica…. damn, three girlfriends in 27 years, that’s a little pathetic, isn’t it?

anyway, i don’t know that i can count tara amongst the screwed up ones. honestly, is there such a thing as a well-adjusted 7th grader? i don’t think so. i want to say that, almost by definition, preteens can’t be well-adjusted. what do they know about anything other than trying desperately to fit in with everyone else? 500 different people all trying to fit in with each other is a strange concept to say the least.

for sure, though, amy was messed up. don’t get me wrong, i thought the world of her at the time. and i still do, though i almost never talk to her anymore (it’s kinda sad, really, considering how close we once were). from what i know of her now, she’s far more well-adjusted than i am, having made leaps and bounds since we dated (if you can really call it that). then there’s jessica, who is also one of my most favorite people, still. and while she’s much better than she was just two years ago, i can’t call her well-adjusted, but i don’t mind. when we dated, i took some comfort in the fact that she wasn’t (is that wrong?). and there’s still a little part of me that likes the thought that we can still relate, even if just a bit, because of our strangeness.

then, of course, there’s katie, who i never dated. she was far from well-adjsuted, as i’ve come to learn. but we’re not really going to get into that subject here, since it’s always a good policy for me not to talk about her at all….

there is this strange question, though; how is it that i’m not surrounded by more fucked up people than i am? i mean, wouldn’t i relate better to them than i do the normal, healthy people? i would think so, yet here i am, constantly putting myself in social situations with people who are happy and mentally healthy and all around well-adjusted. you’d think by now that some of that would have rubbed off on me. it hasn’t, at least, i don’t think it has. i guess there are days where i would question the truth of that statement, but again, what the hell do i know?

do i subconsiously gravitate to these people in the hope of hiding my strange awkwardness? do i have some hope that if i spend enough time around them i’ll figure out their secret and apply it to my own life? or is it simply a matter of percentages? it would seem to me that there is a greater percentage of ‘normal’ people than there are ill-adjusted people and because of those odds, i’m statisticly more likely to be hanging out with them. of course, there’s the easy answer. my best friend is well-adjusted, his friends are well-adjusted, and his friends have become my friend, so logically my friends are well-adjusted.

still i can’t help but wonder what the point is. i mean, should i even be bothering? will there ever come a time when i feel completely comfortable with them? will there ever come a time when i don’t feel like i’m hiding some big secret, or feel that i’ve got to put on a show lest someone figure me out for a fraud? right now the answer to those questions seems like a rather bleak, ‘no.’ i almost always come home feel bad about myself, in some way, because i felt like i had been scaming those people, that i had put on a front and a show to keep from being discovered.

so i guess the question inevitably arises, ‘should i even be bothering with them?’ should i just throw in the towel, so to speak, and go live in a hole, by myself, surrounded by computers, movies, and cds? i don’t know. there’s certainly no easy answer. i guess all i’m really saying is that i’m frustrated. i’m frusted with my life and with the situations i’m presented with on a regular basis. there are days when all i want to do is crawl into a hole and escape the world of the well-adjusted individual. somehow, i feel life would be simpler for me. but what the fuck do i know?

have you ever wanted to write something, just because you like typing? it occurred to me that there are times when i have such an urge to write, but what it actually is is that i just want to type. i like the motion of it, the flow. does that make me weird? ok, so maybe it does, but there are so many other things about me that are so much more weird, that i’m not going to worry to much about this one, little thing. if nothing else, it forces me to write and writing is good. it’s something i don’t do nearly enough of.

so, since i’m here, typing… uh, i mean writing, what the hell am i going to write about? of course, there are topics that i could cover. i mean, the standard topics that seem to make up the majority of my entries. even my stories have the same general theme: what the hell is wrong with me? on the one hand, its such a fun and exciting topic, i really shouldn’t want to write about anything else, right? yeah, i know. even the things that are wrong with me aren’t interesting. even my issues and dilemmas are dull. you’d think, at the very least, if i was going to be given a psychosis, it would have been more interesting.

like multiple personality disorder. now, that’s what i’m talking about. not only do the symptoms get people’s attention, but even the name sounds good, multiple personality. not only would that be interesting to people, but when there weren’t people around (which is quite often for me), i’d still have people to talk to. as it stands now, most of the time the only one i have to talk to is myself. don’t get me wrong, i enjoy talking to myself, but let’s be honest, it’s not much of a conversation. without multiple personalities, it’s really just thinking out loud. and i do that ALL the time: at work, in the car, at home. i’ve even been known to do it when there are other people around.

is that because, even with people around, i have no one to talk to? or is it because i’m so used to not having people to talk to, that when there are, i don’t know how to react…? well… now, that’s an interesting thought, one i’ve never had before. maybe through the course of my life i’ve gotten so used to being a loser, all by myself, that when i’m not, i don’t know how to deal with it. wow! who needs a shrink! i can do this all by myself. i grew up feeling like no one really understood me, so i began talking to myself. well, as it turns out, i still don’t really know if there is anyone that understands me.

as a matter of human nature, i think, people tend to shun what they don’t understand. how is it, then, that i’ve managed to be the exception? how is it there are people, apparently, that seem to think i’m great? it can’t be that it just happens that nearly all the people i meet are strong willed enough to deal with what they don’t understand. no, i don’t think so. what i think is this; people keep me around because i make them feel so much better about themselves. with the exception of maybe one or two people, everyone i know, hell just about everyone i’ve ever met is far more well adjusted than myself.

it seems to me, then, that i’m a useful tool for others. at the end of the day, they can look at me and feel pretty good about themselves. pretty much everyone i know seems better off than myself. it’s like the school bully syndrome… for adults. people don’t bully me, it’s not polite. it’s not civilized.instead, people have developed a much more politically correct system, a much more evolved system. they befriend the loser. that way, no matter how bad they’re feeling about themselves, they can always look at the loser and smile. ‘damn, i’m doing pretty well. i’m good. yea me.’ i would be willing to guess that every group of people (friends, whatever) has the token loser. looking around, in my head, at my group… oh, yeah, i’m definitely the loser…. i’m a bit curious to see how many times i can call myself a loser in this entry. i’m a loser; that makes it eight times so far. damn i’m good.

i can joke (i sure can. i am a master of self-deprecation), but the idea of being the token loser of my group is not a pleasant thought, even if it is an accurate one. sure they laugh at me and my jokes, but all the while they’re thinking, “awww, isn’t he sad and pathetic?” yes. yes i am. so then, i guess the next question to arise is, why the hell would i hang out with people who think i’m a loser, who keep me around because i’m a loser? well, the quick answer is this: even losers need friends.

i think of those shows, those movies, in which the loser would go out of his way with the popular crowd: do their homework, laugh at their jokes about him, etc. i’m that guy, except without the homework. the harder that guy tried to fit in, the more out of place he felt. that’s me too. (can i just say here that i started out with nothing to say and i’ve written over a page. i think i’m getting better at this pointless writing thing) so now the question is this; do i continue to subject myself to loser status, or do i simply move on?

ok, maybe not move on, so much as quit. i look in the mirror every morning hoping to see someone else, but every morning i see the same thing. i see the loser. i think i’ve been the loser for so long that i don’t even know if i’m really bothered by it anymore. that’s not to say, however, that i’m willing to let others benefit from my loser status. i don’t like moochers and i don’t like giving free rides. i mean, what do i get out of this arrangement? oh yeah, i get to go home at the end of the day and feel crappy. i get to go home at the end of the day, only to do it all again the next day. i get to go home at the end of the day and feel used, while everyone else goes home feeling satisfied. i get to go home at the end of the day and watch my roommate and his girlfriend fondle each other. ok, so i threw that last one in just for spite, but it’s true….

nearly everyone i know has sex on a fairly regular basis, but i’m just about the only one that smokes. what’s that about? i thought a cigarette after sex was part of the ritual, part of the experience. i’ve never had sex and i smoke like a chimney. maybe my substantial cigarette expenditure is a subconscious way for me to make up for, a way to off set, my 27 years of virginal status? i don’t know what made me think of that, but it’s interesting. they should do a study looking into the percentage all smokers who are of single virginal men….

back to the topic at hand. i’ll finish by saying this; i’m not saying these things to offend anyone. in the course of writing this, no one in particular came to mind. i do, in fact, have a few close friends who i would never include in this observation. it’s a general feeling. tomorrow i could feel completely different about the whole thing. but for now, this is my state of mind.