so there is this girl.
I know, I know, lame.
It's I just can't seem to shake this one. It's an odd feeling really; part creep and part hopeless romantic. I force myself to not contact her and on more than one occasion have cut all ties. like the tail of a post-attack lizard the means of contact regenerate either through criticism (from the bird of prey herself) or as a safety net , like the ex-smoker who carries around a pack, as if to say "break in case of emergency." To summarize our co-existences one could say "it's complicated," "A lot of in's and a lot of out's" as The Dude would say. Its just from time to time I get this nagging feeling to re-establish some kind of a relationship with the bird. About once every three or four months I act on impulse (normally with the help of some kind of intoxicant) and send some kind of feeble message. I might as well call her and try and start a conversation about the weather. My rate of success could be measures on a scale of poor to nil, favoring nil. I consider it a personal achievement to get an acknowledgement and I bask in the glorious light of a myspace correspondence. The reason I feel the need to draft my thoughts tonight is because of the date. today is Feb 5 2008, two days away from my two year mark in the United States Air Force. Almost two years from that fate full day I hastily scribbled my name on the dotted line and waved farewell to the surroundings of which I had grown complacent. My life before Feb 7 2006 consisted largely of pizza; parties, community college, and her. I have swapped the pizza for sushi and my lifestyle can be described as foreign; controlling, restricted, and with a dash of reckless, and needless to say "we" have become undone. Whatever, get over it, move on, fuck her, she doesn't want us and in all likelihood she hates us. Truth be told I am over it, in the post relationship sense of things, I am not hurt in any way and I hold no animosity or any other negative feelings. That is not to say,...
so there is this girl.
I know, I know, lame.
It's I just can't seem to shake this one. It's an odd feeling really; part creep and part hopeless romantic. I force myself to not contact her and on more than one occasion have cut all ties. like the tail of a post-attack lizard the means of contact regenerate either through criticism (from the bird of prey herself) or as a safety net , like the ex-smoker who carries around a pack, as if to say "break in case of emergency." To summarize our co-existences one could say "it's complicated," "A lot of in's and a lot of out's" as The Dude would say. Its just from time to time I get this nagging feeling to re-establish some kind of a relationship with the bird. About once every three or four months I act on impulse (normally with the help of some kind of intoxicant) and send some kind of feeble message. I might as well call her and try and start a conversation about the weather. My rate of success could be measures on a scale of poor to nil, favoring nil. I consider it a personal achievement to get an acknowledgement and I bask in the glorious light of a myspace correspondence. The reason I feel the need to draft my thoughts tonight is because of the date. today is Feb 5 2008, two days away from my two year mark in the United States Air Force. Almost two years from that fate full day I hastily scribbled my name on the dotted line and waved farewell to the surroundings of which I had grown complacent. My life before Feb 7 2006 consisted largely of pizza; parties, community college, and her. I have swapped the pizza for sushi and my lifestyle can be described as foreign; controlling, restricted, and with a dash of reckless, and needless to say "we" have become undone. Whatever, get over it, move on, fuck her, she doesn't want us and in all likelihood she hates us. Truth be told I am over it, in the post relationship sense of things, I am not hurt in any way and I hold no animosity or any other negative feelings. That is not to say, however, scarring has not taken place. I now find myself unable to care abut a member of the opposite sex in a loving sense. I have female friends and I treat them as equals but once that line is crossed I loose all compassion and become callous and detached. I find myself searching for a clone or a new and improved model of a previous edition (a daunting task given my current surroundings). I was in town not to long ago and attempted to meet with her. up to that point we had kept in contact and meeting when I was in town seemed a given but when I attempted to set a time or place I got the feeling I Had done/ said something wrong and I gave up in a sense. after my trip to the sunny coast of California contact has been kept to pleasant hellos. Don't get me wrong I know what is done is done and I hold no secret hope of being reunited some fateful day but I most defiantly would like to maintain a working relationship. After all, pre-military this person was my best friend and remains the key to me rediscovering who I once was, before the shitty haircuts and empty courtesies.
well that's my rant for now, i felt i should do something for my two year mark and this is it. if you read it and think to yourself " why is he being such a bitch about this" all i can offer is for you to go fuck yourself .... asshole.
take it east people. javascript:insertSmilie('
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leave you thoughtsssssssssssssss.
IPOD
RADIO
I know, I know, lame.
It's I just can't seem to shake this one. It's an odd feeling really; part creep and part hopeless romantic. I force myself to not contact her and on more than one occasion have cut all ties. like the tail of a post-attack lizard the means of contact regenerate either through criticism (from the bird of prey herself) or as a safety net , like the ex-smoker who carries around a pack, as if to say "break in case of emergency." To summarize our co-existences one could say "it's complicated," "A lot of in's and a lot of out's" as The Dude would say. Its just from time to time I get this nagging feeling to re-establish some kind of a relationship with the bird. About once every three or four months I act on impulse (normally with the help of some kind of intoxicant) and send some kind of feeble message. I might as well call her and try and start a conversation about the weather. My rate of success could be measures on a scale of poor to nil, favoring nil. I consider it a personal achievement to get an acknowledgement and I bask in the glorious light of a myspace correspondence. The reason I feel the need to draft my thoughts tonight is because of the date. today is Feb 5 2008, two days away from my two year mark in the United States Air Force. Almost two years from that fate full day I hastily scribbled my name on the dotted line and waved farewell to the surroundings of which I had grown complacent. My life before Feb 7 2006 consisted largely of pizza; parties, community college, and her. I have swapped the pizza for sushi and my lifestyle can be described as foreign; controlling, restricted, and with a dash of reckless, and needless to say "we" have become undone. Whatever, get over it, move on, fuck her, she doesn't want us and in all likelihood she hates us. Truth be told I am over it, in the post relationship sense of things, I am not hurt in any way and I hold no animosity or any other negative feelings. That is not to say,...