13/05/08
Since pretty much forever i've found it difficult to talk to anybody unless they speak to me first, and even then i often find i don't know what i'm supposed to say in return. Then shortly after i'll go and think of what i would like to say but the time has passed already. Strange though it may seem in situations like this in which i think of what i'd like to say or ask someone too late, i sometimes store the thought in my memory to say at an entirely different time. Sometimes months or even years later, and to an entirely different person.
I've only ever really had 1 single friend that's put up with me for my entire life, whom i've known since primary school. But when we went to seperate secondary schools we didn't see eachother so much, and it's become even worse since i wanted to go straight into work while he's at uni. It took me almost 2 years to finally integrate into a group and even then it was only by following someone else i'd known from primary school. In the 10th school year one kid was actually very suprised once he heard me speaking because he thought i was mute!
When i finally left i didn't bother asking for anyone's numbers in order to keep in touch. Whether it was because i was too nervous to ask and was expecting them to ask me first, or just because i simply never wanted to see anyone from school again i can't say for certain. Several times i'd meet some of my best friend's new school friends, sometimes going to gigs, bars and even download festival for 2 years with them all. Yet still i couldn't properly mingle in with their conversations and such, every time i feel like i may as well be a part of the furniture or background scenery. The same thing applies when i go out with my brother and his fionce and their friends.
I know one thing for sure. I'm absolutely tired of being some friend of a friend or a friend's little brother. I want to have an identity of my own and for people to know the deeper me. Not the brooding mask of bravado or infrequent joke. The side that believes in romance. The side that isn't an uncaring shadow and even writes poems now from time to time. The side which has a heart which bleeds just like any other. I know it's there but unless it's like this, written in soulless words i just don't know how to let people see it.
The relationship with my best friend has now degraded to a state where i see him possibly only 2 times in an entire year. And the way to let myself be known and to become a part of a community still eludes me. I suppose this might be why i tried to get something more out of a particular online friendship. I honestly don't know what i'm doing or what i'm supposed to do anymore. I just seem to squander day after day and now the seasons seem to pass like hours.
I've recently bought a pair of psychological self help type books by John Powell. Why am i afraid to love? and Why am i afraid to tell you who i am? though the latter is unfortunately still on backorder. I've actually known about both for years and was even going to suggest them to the previously mentioned online friend (i didn't want her digging herself into the same hole i'm in) but never did because i thought she might think i was being presumptuous in doing so. So now i've sort of decided i could do with some wisdom myself. I don't expect them to be miracle cures that will change the way i think/act (nor would i want that to change) but i'm kind of hoping they might help me to understand why i do the things that i do.
Side notes
-Possible titles to remember for a future poem if i get time to work on it.
'Tears of Mud' or 'Deadweight Heart'
-Now that i'm back home after almost a year after the July floods my obsession for militaria has set in again. Trying to fight the urge to buy a pair of rapiers.
-Must be going mental now. My other current obsession for fetishy suggestive types of clothes is beginning to worry me. Seen a pair of vinyl arm warmers i fancy but then i have to remind myself i have a bunch of fetish-goth apparel and such i don't wear because i never go out anymore anyway. *rolls eyes*
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