Statement. Likely to change.

On December 8, a Wednesday night, I had a rehearsal for the RAAC production of A Christmas Carol. In this production, I play four different roles, three of which are so necessary to the play that it would completely fall to pieces if I were unable to attend. At this rehearsal, I was made aware that the following night, which was the dress rehearsal the day before the first performance, there was going to be a much larger audience than I had anticipated. The dress rehearsal was to begin at 7:00, and last about an hour. This conflicted directly with the Winter concert that the band was performing, which was also to start at exactly 7:00 that same day. Until that night, I had planned on skipping the dress rehearsal for the concert, but, being such an integral part, that was impossible.

Upon returning home at about 9:00, I immediately made efforts to contact the director, Howard Coon, to let him know of this complication. We agreed to push back the start of the play by 15 minutes, to allow me to get to the school sooner, so I could still attend the concert band portion. My mother was going to be waiting outside that theater at precisely 7:45, ready for me to rush out, even if still in costume, and get to the school as soon as possible. This play has a very large cast, and such an alteration would have affected their schedules as well as the audience's schedules.

I then immediately attempted to contact Mr. Deboer. After about a half an hour of contacting multiple people in the band to get his cell phone number, I managed to get a hold of him. I explained the problem to him, and we came to an agreement that I would miss the jazz band performance so I could attend the dress rehearsal, and would show up at 8:00 in time for the concert band to play. I expressed to him how apologetic I was about having to miss jazz band, and he told me that it was alright, and that there shouldn't be a problem. I let him know of the alteration Mr. Coon and I had made to the play, and requested that we start slightly later to make equal accommodations if necessary. He stated to me that "intermission can go on as long as it needs to", presumably meaning until I show up. I left the conversation, the weight of this complication off my mind, fully convinced by Mr. Deboer that there would be no problem.

During Concert band rehearsal in first period, we were setting up the chairs and equipment in the auditorium. Some of the students were sitting out, and, after having helped set up some things myself, I took a short break as well. Mr. Deboer immediately singled me out and ordered me to help set up. Still keeping in mind the circumstances that I had put him in by not being able to show up to jazz band, I immediately obeyed. While setting up, I pointed out the fact that most of the band was sitting down and not doing anything, yet he singled me out. He replied saying that, since I "wasn't going to be showing up that night", I shouldn’t be arguing with him. Confused, I pointed out the agreement that we had made the previous night that I would show up late. He refused to hear a word of it and told me once again to set up. I put this in the back of my mind, still understanding of the frustration that he must have been feeling at this point.

Later, while people were still setting up, I approached Mr. Deboer very calmly and stated that I would very much like to discuss the situation for a few minutes. Every time I tried to speak, however, he either turned to someone else and began talking to them or blatantly told me to sit down and leave him alone. He absolutely refused to listen to anything I had to say. To me, this felt extremely disrespectful and rude, but, once again, I considered the position he was in and continued to set up.

Once we had finished setting up the chairs and equipment, people began to sit down to prepare to rehearse. When I sat down, however, Mr. Deboer ordered me to go sit in the audience. I asked him why, and he replied as before, still claiming that I wasn't going to be showing up at all that night. When I tried again to bring up the agreement we had come to the previous night, he ignored me and continually ordered me to sit in the audience. This made me feel horribly disrespected, especially after having been singled out and ordered to set up. I protested initially but eventually obeyed him.

Since he wasn't allowing me to rehearse on stage, I took my horn and warmed up with the band while sitting in the audience, determined to rehearse at any cost. When we started a run-through of the show, he walked onstage, and the band stood up to acknowledge him, as it would happen at the actual performance. Acting as an audience member would at that point, since I was sitting out in the audience, I stood up, clapped, and cheered for the band. This action has been described later as disruption of the rehearsal, even though, at the precise moment, no actual rehearsal was occurring. Mr. Deboer then turned and ordered me to go sit out in the hallway while the band rehearsed. Feeling that I had just as much of a right to rehearse as anybody else in the band, I initially refused. Mr. Deboer then leaned against the podium and refused to conduct rehearsal until I was out of the room. In doing this, he knew that it would put the band against me, and make it appear that it was in my power and my power only to determine whether rehearsal would continue, when he had full ability to continue the rehearsal with me in the audience. At the request of band members, I took my horn and my music and went out into the hall.

With my bell facing inward toward the auditorium so as to not disturb classes, I continued to play the music along with the band in the hallway, still determined to rehearse. After the first song, Mr. Deboer ordered me to give my first chair horn music to the second chair member, Samantha White. I refused, still believing that I had full right to play my music. This exchange went back and forth for several minutes, with no solution. I sensed that the argument was escalating to the point of yelling, and I walked straight to Mr. Hipple's office, to speak with him and attempt to work out some sort of solution.

In the office, I began to speak to Mr. Hipple about the problem, but, as I was starting, Mr. Deboer walked into the room and interrupted me, demanding that I give him the folder full of music. Mr. Hipple joined him, ordering me to give him the music. I reluctantly obeyed, and I tossed the folder a short distance of about two feet to Mr. Deboer. He failed to catch the folder and it fell onto the floor, the music spilling out. As Mr. Deboer bent down to pick it up, Mr. Hipple stopped him, turned to me, and ordered me to pick up the music. I reluctantly obeyed. I then left the office, feeling that there was nobody who would consider my side of the events that were happening. I went to the library and stayed there for the majority of the rest of the period.

As I passed Mr. Deboer in the hallway, he told me "Don't show up to the concert tonight." I did not reply.

I feel it necessary at this point to express how much band means and has always meant to me. I have been the first chair French Horn player since fifth grade, and I have always come to every concert and every rehearsal. As somebody who wants to major in college in musical theater, band is the most educationally satisfying and fulfilling course I can possibly take in high school. It is a major part of my life that I have always committed to with high priority. Mr. Deboer's has stated to me, however, that he thinks my decision to negotiate skipping jazz band for an unavoidable performance of a play shows a bold-faced lack of commitment to band. If you look at the records of my attendance and performance in marching, concert, and, as of this year, jazz band rehearsals, you will find that I have always been thoroughly committed at all times to the band, including involving myself every year with the optional Tri-County concert, with Districts' band auditions, as well as last year's States' auditions.

That being said, Mr. Deboer's decision to refuse to allow me to play in the concert, after having clearly promised me that I could, as well as his telling me not to show up at all so I could not see my peers perform, felt incredibly rude and disrespectful toward me. I resolved to show up to the concert and play at any cost, whether I was in the back of the audience or behind the curtain. Since Mr. Deboer had taken my music, I went to the band room after being excused from my second period class to acquire new copies of music from their easily accessible place above the piano. As I got the last piece, Mr. Deboer walked in, saw what I was doing, and ordered me to give him the music. When he approached me, my first reaction was to yet again attempt to reason with him. I spoke very calmly, requesting once more that we discuss the matter for a short two minutes. As expected, he adamantly refused, and, in turn, I refused to give him the music back until he would simply listen maturely for two minutes. Realizing that it was unlikely to get him to listen, I attempted to walk out of the room, and Mr. Deboer stepped in front of my path, physically refusing to let me pass. It has been brought to my attention that one of the actions which I am accused of doing is attempting to force my way through Mr. Deboer at this point. I must express that this is completely false. I began walking, and when he stepped in front of my path, I continued walking for a moment. The moment I realized he was blocking me and refusing to let me pass, I took an obvious step back, so as to not give the impression that I was using any sort of force. Mr. Stump’s decision to bring this up as one of the actions I am accused of shows how desperate he is to bring up small matters with little importance in the interest of expelling me. His personal vendetta against me in this regard reflects a manipulative, vindictive personality.

Mr. Deboer then walked into his office, saying he was contacting Mr. Stump to come get me. When he did this, I, believing that this was a personal matter between the two of us, unplugged the handset. He repeatedly tried to call, and I repeatedly unplugged it, insisting strongly that all I wanted from him was a mature discussion.

At this point, we were standing right inside the entrance to Mr. Deboer's office. Mr. Stump, while we discussed the setting of the exchange later, pointed out that my position was blocking the doorway, and therefore could be interpreted as a threatening gesture toward Mr. Deboer. In following him into the office, there was simply nowhere else to stand, and it was inevitable that I be where I was. At no point whatsoever did I make any sort of threatening motions, gestures, or statements toward Mr. Deboer. If there is camera footage in the band room, it will reflect this. Had Mr. Deboer attempted to walk past me to get out of his office, I would have had no reason whatsoever to block the doorway, and would surely have yielded willingly, despite the fact that Mr. Deboer had done the very same thing to me when I attempted to leave the situation.

I eventually gave up and, in an attempt to calm myself with fresh air, walked outside the back door, around the school, and to the front entrance, where I walked in and went straight to Mr. Hipple's office. Moments later, Mr. Stump and Mr. Hipple walked in.

From that moment on, I resolved to simply cooperate with whatever I was dealt. I spoke very clearly and calmly to Mr. Stump and Mr. Hipple about everything that had occurred. They gave me the chance to write a statement there, but, realizing that Mr. Stump would not be capable of noticing the moral and symbolic reasons behind my actions, I resolved to complete it at another time. I then sat in Mr. Hipple's office while the two interrogated Mr. Richards, Alexander Yung, and Lauren Light about how events unfolded through their eyes. I stayed there unproductively for the remainder of the day without being allowed to go to my third period AP class.

When my punishment was finally decided, it was ten days of suspension. When my mother arrived to pick me up and we went to the office to discuss the matter with Mr. Stump and Mr. Hipple. Mr. Stump informed us that he had suggested expulsion as a suitable punishment. I had not been informed of this at all, and we never received any sort of paperwork documenting this, which I have gathered is a violation of school policy.

In conclusion, I would like to express that, though I feel my intentions were morally justified, I also feel sorry towards Mr. Deboer for the position that I put him in, and for the actions that I had to take. I understand the frustration that he must have felt, but I believe that, if he had attempted to work things out calmly and rationally at my request, and if he had kept his word about allowing me to perform in the concert, this situation would have never occurred. I will admit that, though I refrained from raising my voice or making any threatening motions, my actions were partly stemmed out of frustration and anger similar to Mr. Deboer's, and for that, I sincerely apologize. Perhaps my ten-day suspension was deserved, for my actions without context certainly go against the code of student conduct. However, expulsion from the school system, I feel, is an extraordinary punishment for a student who simply wanted to be allowed to have the same rights as his peers.

Thank you.

Issues

Once again checking in.

I've been suspended again. Ten days, and on January 11th, there will be a school board meeting which decides whether I am expelled or not. I'll post the statement I have written after this.

And, to be honest, that's not the thing on my mind that worries me the most. It's an inconceivable notion. I've never been threatened with expulsion before, and the idea of it is akin to my mother dying, in the sense that I simply can't imagine the path life would take if it were to happen. What is more predominant on my mind is the school's musical, "You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown". Auditions for that occur Monaday and Tuesday, but I won't be allowed to audition at the school because I'm not allowed on school grounds.

It's possible for Mr. Paulette to work out an audition at a neutral site but here's the problem: Almost all the major members of Drama Club are planning on quitting if I get to audition.

Zach is initially the one who told me about this. And what bothered me the most was the fact that he said he was among those who planned on quitting. This hurt me more than I can express here, and I cried for about a half an hour, being put in this position. Zach is one of my best friends. He, more than anyone else, has known how excited I have been for this musical. We've spent so much time listening to the songs from the show on his Ipod, geeking out over how excited we were. I consider Zach to be one of my best friends, and, at the time he told me this, I felt that the world was crashing down on top of me, and that nobody liked me. I could deal with the fact that some people in Drama club would quit. Most of them already have made it clear to me that they hate me, and, to be honest, most of the people threatening it can't really sing or act anyway. But Zach quitting felt to me like the worst thing that could possibly happen to the show. It's pretty obvious that he's going to get the part of Charlie Brown.

He apologized the day after, and agreed not to quit if I audition. But that still doesn't change the fact that the show is going to suffer no matter what the choice of Mr. Paulette is. The assholes that want to quit are putting him through an extraordinary amount of stress.

On the surface, they claim it's because it's an unfair exception for a suspended student to participate in the audition, but their real motivations are obviously different. People have always complained that I always get the roles I want, or get the biggest roles in plays, and this makes them jealous. Their decision to quit if I am able to audition is simply spawned out of the jealousy and dislike they feel toward me. They just don't want to be around me. And this decision, above all else, is hurting both Mr. Paulette and the eventual outcome of the show, no matter what.

Mr. Paulette and I spoke on Thursday night, and he has expressed to me that, though he wants me to be in the show very strongly, he feels his position is compromised in terms of his relation to Mr. Deboer (who will be conducting the pit orchestra), as well as his relations with the students who don't want me in the show if I get to audition. I hope to meet with him sometime before or after the performance today so we can talk about things. When we spoke on Wednesday, he asked me to the consider the position that he was in, and to tell him what I suggest he does when we meet again.

I still don't exactly know what I'm going to say to him.

I'm going to be leaving to go to Cherl's house soon so she can look over my statement, and make any suggestions. I also will give Mr. Paulette a copy, since he has only heard Mr. Deboer's side of the story. Not that his knowledge of my reasons and intentions will change anything concerning the musical, but it still feels awful to have him only have Mr. Deboer's bias side of the argument, which I feel will not reflect many of the important points that my statement makes.

Life goes on.

Thanksgving

I need to write something. So here we go:

Today is Thanksgiving. I received a call from Alana about a half an hour ago. I can't believe how incredibly pretentious she's got - living in California. Or maybe she was always like that and I'm especially noticing it now. Anyway, she got pissed that I wasn't being full of shit like her, and wanted to hang up. Hopefully we won't speak again for a while.

I helped Hallberg collect wood from the woods near his house yesterday, for which he gave me a decent amount of pot for. Very seedy, but still pretty good. He and Mom aren't on very good terms lately. She's driving him crazy complaining that Hallberg is using hot female dancers for the music video he's making, and he's reluctant to allow her.

Which is understandable. She is naggy as hell when she's around him, and always tries to make a scene about everything, regardless of who it's in front of.

I wrote a song, which I'll post as soon as I get a chance. I really wish I had a way to record my music. I've got plenty for a full CD of music, if I just had the chance to record.

I'll post more soon.

Well, fuck.

I just spent about 20 minutes writing a post on this new ScribeFire add-on I downloaded, then accidentaly deleted. That was one of the best things I've written in a very long time. It was quite prosaic. And I don't remember it well enough to copy it word for word. It was one of those times when everything just spills out perfectly, and now it's gone.

Fragments I remember: Hippleopotomous, fat ugly children, music, John Tole, ridiculous, cell phone, a Stumpy little military man, and other things.

FML.

THIS IS A TEST

Posting once again out of sheer boredom.

I do regret having not written more about my experiences at BUSTI. I tried to save the majority of the work that I did there, but we wrote a lot less after the halfway point. Most of it is only kept in memory, and someday I'll chronicle those events. Maybe.

Morgan is leaving for college tomorrow. Soon, I'll be the only one here. Well, excluding Mom, but a mother is sort of an ever-present figure in the life of a child, I suppose, so she doesn't really count. All alone.

It sounds fucking fantastic. There are so many things I want to do with this house, mostly cleaning, that Morgan only hinders the process of, creating more mess while complaining about mom's inability to clean.

A whole new chapter is unfolding in my life.

I'm still playing guitar all of the time. Usually, when I write something like a song or a poem, it feels like a brilliant work of art for a couple of days. Then I go through a period where I despise it, thinking it total crap, only keeping it because I know that someday it will mean something to me again. And then, one day, it does. I hold my own songs in high regard, knowing how honest and true they were at the time of writing them, regardless of how I feel now when I sing them.

Someday, I'll start to record my songs. I hope to put them on an album. I could be like the next Ryan Benyo! Only... less gay.

Checking in.

And here I am again. It's Wednesday night, 7:53 PM. There's a bit of an overcast outside, and the air has a pleasant coolness to it. I ate eggs today for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, 12 eggs in total, but Mom's about to make some pesto spaghetti, which I will happily scarf down.

I turned in my AP History summer work today. It was 1:00 and I checked to see what day the work was due. It was due at 3:00 today. I still had an essay to write. So I cranked out an essay about the major causes behind Bacon's Rebellion in 1676, quickly edited it, rewrote it, and turned it in. All in all, I was pretty happy with the work. It could have been better, but it was very good for how quickly it was done.

My AP English 11 work still remains. Off a very long list of books, I chose The Things they Carried by Tim O'Brien. I have to complete a series of note cards proving I read and understood the book. I have until 8:00 PM tomorrow evening to finish it. So, yeah. Procrastination. I've been playing the guitar, smoking pot, watching TV. I would be playing Brawl but my Wii is acting up again, refusing to acknowledge the fact that it is connected to power. It does this for a couple days at a time every once in a while.

I think I'll have plenty of time to do my work tomorrow. I'm not worried. Although I am disappointed about the fact that I won;t be able to complete the other half of the assignment, which involved collecting 6 newspaper articles over the course of six weeks and writing about them. I simply came into it too late. So I just decided, fuck it. I'll just suffer through a bad grade in AP English for the first six weeks. I'll have to really work on keeping my grades up this year. I want to have a somewhat decent GPA. I don't know what mine is right now, but at a guess I'd say it's maybe a 3.2. But who knows. I could be wrong.

I guess that's it for now.

Back to Rappahannock

I've been putting this off for a while, but I really feel like I need to write. I want to keep that skill as sharp as possible.

So I got home yesterday, around 4:30. I still haven't unpacked, but I've cleaned up my room quite a bit. There's still a ton left to do. After living in a dorm room for so long, completely in control of my own living space and necessities, it's hard to come back to a house that's been completely neglected all summer. I've been trying to get Mom to help me to clean, but it's incredibly hard. Oh, well. What did I expect?

I skipped Band Camp today. I probably could have handled it, but I just didn't feel like going.

And I have to be at Band Camp tomorrow morning at 9:00. I'm not worried. I should be able to catch up on the music and marching pretty quickly. It's just going to be such a bitch juggling Band Camp with summer work. Although, that's really my fault. I'm going to try as hard as I can to complete it, which means I should stop smoking pot. I went 5 1/2 weeks without it. It shouldn't be that hard.

I've been listening to a lot of music that I've never really heard before. REM, Jet, Nine Inch Nails. Random stuff that Morgan had lying around.

I suppose I should have written more about BUSTI. It was quite an experience, and I'm sure I'll remember it forever. There's just so much to say about it that I feel overwhelmed at the idea of starting to write about it.

I look forward to the prospect of helping Mr. Paulette in Acting class. I feel like I've learned a lot, and I'm so eager to share it with people before I forget it myself.

So, yeah. I'm slowly starting to get my life back in order. It'll be hard to cope with Rappahannock again. I miss the city, especially the self-sufficiency I felt when I was there. It's so hard to get anything that I need out here in Rappahannock, but in a city, it was just a walk next door to City Convenience. And I miss the people in BUSTI too. Some of them, I'm very glad to be away from, but it was sad to say goodbye. There was a huge shoulder-crying reminiscent party on Friday night.

Frustration will set in pretty soon.

I really want to graduate after my Junior year, but Morgan just made me aware of the fact that I probably won't be able to. Band is taking up too much space for classes, and I doubt I'll be able to get the requirements, even with a ton of summer work. I hope there's something I can work out. I'll do whatever it takes to graduate early. I would even quit band if I could, but the paperwork and band deposits have already been put in. It's impossible to back out now. I'm already wirtten into the marching show's drill.

Writing this seems to have sharpened my mind a bit. I was leaning back in my chair like a slug, and I needed something to concentrate on to wake me up.

I suppose I'll clean my room now. StumbleUpon is so damn distracting, though! It keeps me from getting anything done. Okay. No StumbleUpon. I should disable it or something.

Anyway, bye.

A Realization - I was a fucking awesome kid.

I amaze myself.

I've been reading my first blog for the past 20 minutes or so. I was an absolutely incredible writer. I was so full of honesty and beauty. I had the most beautiful mind I've ever seen in anybody. I envy my 13-year-old self. I envy him. He was a boy with so much love in his heart, and so much to say. He was a boy who wanted to share himself with the world.

And he could write so well. So much better than I can. My writing is far too stream-of-thought. It's not as readable as his. His could be made into a book. It's so prosaic.

Is it because his mind had not yet been destroyed by pot? Have I really done this to myself?

I was a poetic and prosaic genius. I was so honest. I didn't care what people thought of my writing, I just wrote. That's why it turned out so good.

I want to meet this young man. I want to shake hands with him. I want him to remind me what it's like to be young again. I miss him. And I want to tell him what I have learned.

No, no, no, no, no. Scratch that. Telling him what I've learned would give him a false idea of how life should be. He figured it out for himself, which is the best way to realize things. I am so full of envy right now. I was on the verge of crying as I read it. I was so clever, and so funny. My sense of humor was so much better than it is now. How I managed to survive among the vast amounts of Rappahannockins for so long boggles my mind.

If I could go back and live in that mindset for a day, I would.

Really, though. I need to write this damn paper.

I HAVE RETURNED

WELL, HELLO THERE!

Jesus fucking Christ. How the fuck are you, bloggy? It's been SO LONG.

I'm a completely different person. Quite incredible how much I've changed.

Anyway, I'm in the middle of writing an essay on Hamlet. Well, actually, to be honest, I was reading through the old posts on Sarah's blog. My god, the comments I made were obnoxious. I was such a pretentious fuckhead.

But it made me want to write. I need to continue this chronicle of my thoughts and viewpoints and how they change over time. I got really good at that at one point. Then all I wrote about was Mairead, and the only reason I wrote was to BAWWW. Enough of that. That's the old Austen. I know I've said things similar to that before, but I believe I mean it truly this time. Normally, I would start a new blog entirely to symbolize my newfound disregard for the old melodramatic Austen, but since this blog only has like 18 posts, I decided to keep it going.

Three months. A person can change a lot in three months. I certainly have.

So, I'm in Boston. The five-week Boston University Summer Theatre Institute (a.k.a. "theater camp") is coming to an end. Today is Wednesday. I must be checking out by Saturday morning at 10:00 AM. This program was quite an experience. Plenty of fantastic moments that I'll remember and cherish forever. Plenty of moments of feeling like shit, unable to connect with anybody around me. I guess everywhere I go, it'll be like that.

I have 2 and a half hours until I have to be at Group D's performance, and I have to spend some time bullshitting the remaining 300 words of my Hamlet essay. It shouldn't take too long to do. In the meantime, I suppose what I should do is write about everything that has happened.

...Or I could go eat lunch at the dining hall. I'll do this some other time. I have plenty of time.

............

Mairead broke up with me today. Ely gave me a high-five.

Somebody To Love

I need somebody to love.

That's all I need. Somebody to pour out all of the emotion I have inside myself on. Someone to open my heart to. Someone who will stay by my side through thick and thin. Someone who loves me back, who cares about my feelings, who understands me, who opens up their heart to me.

But people suck. That's what it all boils down to. People just suck.

My life keeps changing. This is only temporary, this stage of life. Not too long from now, it will be just a memory.

I don't overthink things. No, I think of things on a very good level. I'm glad I'm so contemplative. It's the only thing keeping me sane.

Will I ever be able to open up my heart to anyone again?

Why is it that every time I get used to the life that I'm living, it has to go and change? I grew so used to the love Mairead and I shared so long ago, but then it ended, and I was devastated. Eventually, I grew used to it. Mairead came back, after a long period of silence. She rejected me, and, yet again, I was devastated. But it was okay, because I grew used to that too. Mairead and I became friends, and I became used to the fact that that would be all that we would ever be. I accepted it. It took me a long time, but I accepted it as the way things were. And then my life took another sharp turn.

I began hating Mairead, and I became so used to that too. I enjoyed it. It was easy. Nothing had ever felt so good. And then she apologized, ruining any hopes of me being able to justify hating her anymore.

Again, I was devastated. But I grew used to it. I became her friend once more. Again, I thought that would be the way things would remain forever.

Until we started messing around again.

I knew from the start that it could not end well. I knew that I would end up devastated again, as always. I was extremely reluctant to go back to her, and with good reason.

But I did. Inevitable, really.

I never grew used to the fact that we were somehow sustaining a 'relationship' without any sort of love involved. It was all physical. But I went along with it anyway.

And it started to tear me apart slowly. More and more pain built up over time as I came to realize that she didn't want me in the way I wanted her. I tried to ignore it. I tried to do what everyone's trying to do - just get by. I used marijuana to tune it all out. It helped, for the most part. I grew used to the fact that my opinons of her would continue flip-flopping back and forth, until she went to Italy and completely disappeared from my life.

Today, I made Mairead as aware as I could of what she's doing to me, and how cruel it is. I explained, to the best of my abilities, how I felt. But I didn't get to finish. Though I think my main point was clear, far too many things were left unsaid.

And I still don't think she gets it. I want to tell her more - to open up my heart one last time to her, but it will be hard. She's too wrapped up in herself. She can't understand my point of view. I want - and I need - somebody to love, and I thought that entering a relationship with her would allow that. But she doesn't love me. She barely even likes me as a person. She lives her life like the countless other sheeple around me. She doesn't get caught up in her thoughts like I do. She isn't affected by other people like I am.

She's given up on love. She's been through so many failed relationships that she's just sick of the whole idea overall. She doesn't think it can work out.

Mairead is the only person I have really felt strongly for. She's the only person I've opened up my heart to. She represented love to me for so long.

She's horribly unhealthy for me, But I can't break the tie I feel between us. Part of me is still left over from the years so long ago when, even though we were young, we had something meaningful, special, and irreplacable.

I need to break the tie, though. But it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. She's the only one that I have ever loved in my life, and I don't want to lose it. I'm holding on to shattered fragments that can never be put back together, no matter how hard you try. But I need to throw them away.

But then what else can I pour my love and attention to?

...

I cried today when I got home. I let it all out. I lied in my bed and sobbed, clutching my pillow like a small child, whimpering and wishing for a time long since past. Wishing for somebody to love.

...

People suck. That's what it all boils down to.

Especially me.

Life Goes On

I just got back from a long bike ride to Flint Hill and back. It was useful. I needed something to clear my mind. After this, I'm going to clean the house more. I feel like I have to get my external world in order if I have any hope of doing the same with my internal world.

I really need to take a break from smoking pot. I need to focus my energy on things more important. Tuning things out won't solve anything, but it's too difficult for me to confront problems as well.

I want to talk to her, yet I know that it won't go over well. I can only express my feelings fully through writing. And talking to her about difficulties has never seemed to work in the past, so why should it work now?

Riding my bike, I began to think about my future, and how my life will be many years from now. Specifically, how will I handle future relationships? Will I only be able to sustain one if a considerable amount of distance is kept between us? I've never had a chance to have an open, meaningful, public relationship with somebody, and I can't help but think it will ruin my possibilities for the future. I feel socially inept, in a way. I'm far more isolated than anyone else I know.

And smoking pot alone all the time doesn't help. I need to stop relying on substances to numb my mind.

But it's the only way I know how to avoid overthinking things. That's my biggest problem. Being so socially isolated, the only person I ever have to talk to or relate to is myself. This has caused me to be extremely self-aware, and far too self-conscious sometimes. And it also gives me far too much time to think about myself and the situations I'm in. I blow them up in my head far past the point where they need to be, when they really arent worth that at all.

Still, I feel as though my situation does suck. My relationship with Mairead is not a healthy one. It never was, except for many, many years ago, when we were both so much younger. I miss those days. I miss naivety.

The main reason that relationship felt so powerful and so important was the fact that we barely ever got to see each other. Seeing her was something special, something meaningful. We completely opened our hearts up to each other.

That relationship was a very intimate relationship, but it had another major difference than with the one I have now. Back then, we were both too reserved to even think about the possiblity of sex. Now, we are both older, and both much more sexually mature. When Mairead and I are alone, we want to have sex. We are much more sexual with our flirting, and much more heavy petting occurs.

I sometimes feel like that's the only reason she wants me. I'm someone who will make her feel good, physically. But she only wants it on her own terms, only when she feels like it. She can control her emotions toward me. She can make herself no longer want to be near me or touch me when others are nearby. She does it to the point where she barely even ecknowledges me at all.

And she either does not seem to notice what an effect it has on me, or doesn't care. I want to be with her all the time. I want to open up my heart to her, like we did so long ago. But it's not possible if she doesn't even show any interest in me. It really hurts me.

Again, I ask myself "Is this finally the end?"

I don't think so. As I knew when she first rejected me at the beginning of the school year, I will always go back to her, should the chance arrive. Even though I know it's bad for me, I simply can't help it.

I don't really want her to forget about me when she's away in Italy. I know I said I did, but saying something over and over again does not make it true. Like when I continually told myself I hated Mairead. I didn't hate her - I couldn't hate her. I really wanted her back more than anything. I just didn't think there was a chance for that - so I tried as hard as I could to douse the dying embers that represented how I felt for her.

She's had so many more relationships than I have. Maybe that's why we can't see things on similar terms. I have more preconcieved notions of how a relationship should be, but she's just sick of the whole thing overall. She's gone through boy after boy, and I don't feel any different than all of them. How can she not remember what things used to be like? How could she have forgotten what we used to have? It was beautiful.

And so the story of the matchstick girl continues...

I was going to come over to her house this weekend. We were planning on having sex. She was going to be at home, alone, and I was excited all week. But then she told me that she didn't think it was possible anymore. She was working on Saturday, and she had too much homework for me to come over today. That's probably why I'm so affected by her today and yesterday. Yet again, I was given hope. I was led to think that this weekend would be fantastic. But, like always, those hopes were dashed.

She already plays so many mind games with me. I can't help but think that adding sex to the picture would complicate things even more. Sometimes I tell myself to never have sex with her, knowing what could happen. I will wait and see if this relationship ever becomes healthy again before I try to do anything.

...

Life goes on.

Mind Games

There's far too much on my mind this morning. Mornings shouldn't be like this. I should wake up with a clear mind - with a freshly shed skin - without having to think about the things that bothered me yesterday.

But, no. She just won't get out of my head.

My life will be so much simpler when she's gone. I'll be able to concentrate on more important things. While she's off in Italy, breaking the hearts of hot Italian guys, I hope she forgets about me. I hope to never see her again after that. I'm sick of this.

She plays too many mind games. It's not intentional, I don't think, but it fucks with my head too much. She keeps pulling me toward her, then pushing me away. It goes back and forth, and, try as I might, I can't completely ignore it. I can't tune it out, even with the aid of mind-altering substances. She's a persistent one.

She doesn't actually like me. I'm not a real friend to her. I'm just someone who is willing to make her feel good. She wants something that I can't give her. I can't control my emotions completely. I can't force myself to no longer want her or to no longer like her. That's what she wants when we aren't alone.

She will make me feel special, make me feel (dare I say it...) loved, and then she'll ignore me and make me feel extraneous and pointless. She only wants me sometimes, and even hardly that. I want her all of the time. I can't help it.

I need to end this, but I can't. Because just when I feel like it's the right time to do it, just when I feel she couldn't possibly push me further away, she pulls me back again.

I don't know what I should do.

Girls suck.

Memories

I used to be a very clingy person. I would choose one person, and be their best and most loyal friend. I would always be there for them, and expect similar friendship in return.

But when high school came around, and when I became basically isolated from everyone else (no longer having internet), my friends changed. Sarah, who'd been the last "best friend" of mine made me aware of what a conceded douchebag I was, and totally threw away our friendship. Mairead and I also grew much more distant, and I no longer felt like I had any real friends. I became depressed and proceeded to write an excessive amount of poetry.

Slowly, I became used to the fact that I no longer had anyone I considered to be a true, caring friend like I considered Mairead and Sarah to be. All I felt I had were acquaintances, but there were no real friends. And so I created some friends to occupy myself, and thus was the birth of Brask, Netsua, and later Marcia. They all had unique personalitites, and I was able to pinpoint which one of them I was at a given time. Brask was blunt, rude, and hurtful, but he always told the truth. Netsua was lamenting and sad most of the time, usually over Mairead. Marcia was the obnoxious side of me, the annoying 9-year-old girl in all of us. And the combination of them all was Austen.

This kept me fairly sane, and allowed for some creative outlooks on things. Having any discrepencies built up in my mind about anything, I would have my conflicting viewpoints organized and simple, each being attached to a different part of me. It made me able to view myself and the different characters inside me as what they are: ideas. This led to my depersonalization. My actions became no longer my own. It felt like I was watching the world through a TV screen. I could see everything that was going on as a third party, observing the different and interesting ways people behave. The concept of "self" became non-existant. I was now one of the people on the TV screen that I observed, noting the different ways that I acted.
Then Mairead came back, and rejected me when I still showed interest in her. This drove me partially insane. I was overtook with grief, torn with the memories of all of the wonderful times we had shared, knowing that they would never come again. It took an immense amount of effort to accept this. I released some of it in the form of rage, punching the ground until my fists became bloody and bruised. Some of the scars are still visible. But this didn't help me, so I became depressed.

I relied on marijuana to relax me and allow me to no longer think about things. I made a conscious decision to get high so I didn't have to think about the things that were on my mind.

And thus Charlie was born.

Charlie doesn't care.

Charlie is happy.

Slowly, I accepted more and more that Mairead was only a friend. But I couldn't completely destroy the affection I felt for her. It would still linger in the back of my mind, refusing to go away. But I perservered, acting like I only felt friendship for her. She obviously didn't want me anymore. Our time together was at an end.

But I still kept trying. I wanted to be her friend so badly. I knew that the love we shared was over, but I couldn't bear to destroy the friendship. I still felt connected to her.

Meanwhile Mairead continually went through several more boyfriends, who she broke the hearts of. I stood by and watched it all unfold, feeling a twinge of jealosy toward the boys she was with, but mostly I felt a bit of anger toward Mairead. Whatever. I tried to put it in the back of my mind, like so many other things.

Eventually, she adopted a strictly 'fuck-off' attitude toward me, and I didn't understand why. I couldn't bear any more of the nonsense. I stated to hate her, believing that it would be the only way I could no longer want her. And the amazing thing was, it worked! I felt secure, finally, and I actually enjoyed making a point of hating her. I was getting my revenge for how she had treated me. She didn't seem to show any sort of guilt, and this fueled my hatred even more. I thought she was a heartless bitch. It felt so good to channel my anger at someone else rather than myself. It's something I wasn't used to.

But then she had to ruin this by doing the one thing I never would have expected. She apologized. She told me she misses me and wants to be my friend, and that she felt sorry for her bitchy behavior.

I later learned that the reason Mairead felt so bad about me hating her was that she still felt a small attraction to me.

So, slowly and with great effort, I reverted my mind away from hating Mairead, and became friends with her. That was all that we were. Things became okay. I became used to being just her friend. Having hated her and having noticed her bad qualities for the first time, I didn't feel very much desire to be with her. She became just another teenage girl.
And things were fairly calm.

Slowly, we became greater and greater friends. I never tried to enter any sort of relationship other than the one we currently had. But, by itself, it evolved into something more.
Mairead invited me over for the weekend (this was the first time she had done this in a verly long time), and, after much struggling with myself, I revived the relationship and turned it into something else. When we had previously been together, our reltionship wasn't remotely sexual. But on that day, so much of the sexual tension that had built up between us was suddenly let out. We shared a fantastic evening, and, had circumstances allowed for it, we would have most definitely had sex.

We became very close again. But we both had expressed that we didn't want to 'date' publicly. We didn't want to deal with how other people would react to us. We wanted to keep it all a secret.

And so, for a week, we were mostly inseperable. However, we encountered some embarassing situations where poelpe walked in on us making out. By the end of the week, at least 10 people knew, people that we had never intended to know.

The week ended, and I didn't see or talk to Mairead for four days over Spring Break.
And when she came back, she was barely interested in me anymore. She tried at the beginning of the week, I could tell, but there was no genuine interest in public. I didn't feel like she considered me to be special, and I became scared that she didn't want me anymore. She reassured me that she did, and that I shouldn't worry about it. This kept me sure and happy for a short time, but she continued to show little to no interest in me at all. I was confused. I thought she didn't want me any more.

So I gave her a break. I stopped trying to talk with her, which was more out of embarassment than anything else. She knew I still wanted her, and she didn't want me. I'd been through enough of that to take it again. We never officially ended anything between us, because we barely were able to talk.

Today I wrote her a note explaining how I felt, knowing that it would be the only way to get in contact with her privately. At the end, I requested that she please approach me and talk to me when she finishes the note. I placed it in her backpack, and, at the end of the day, it was no longer there. She must have read it, but, despite plenty of opportunities to talk to me privately at my request, she didn't. In fact, she was acting no different to me as if she hadn't gotten the note.

So I don't feel like I matter to her at all anymore.

I'll wait and see if she does try to talk to me at all. It really annoyed me that she didn't. But I'm used to being rejected by her. I've basically lost all hope, and, this time around, acceptance is easier. After all, I entered this fleeting arrangement prefectly aware of how it would turn out in the end. I knew she would grow tired of me. She always does.

But, like always, there is that tiny twinge of hope in the back of mind. Keeping it surpressed is the only way I know how to avoid massive disappointment when I am completely rejected by her again.

Sorry

I'm sorry, Brask.


Really, I am. I know you are just screaming "I TOLD YOU SO, YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!" all the time now. I don't want you to be right, but you are. You always are.


The way it feels right now:


Mairead wanted me because she couldn't have me. And now that she can have me, she doesn't want me anymore. She isn't very interested with me at all anymore. I don't mean anything special to her, other than someone who is able to make her feel physically good. But she doesn't really want me. She wants a body that is willing to please her. I wish I wasn't so good at pleasing her. I can't handle this. I can't stand this anymore. I thought everything would be okay. I thought everything we had would be back.


I want some confirmation of SOMETHING. Again, I don't care what everything ends up to be, I want to KNOW something for certain. I want to talk to her about this, but an opportunity never arises. She is always either in some sort of bitchy, angry, complaining mood, or is with her group of girlfriends, or Nigel is around. And on the rare occasion that I do get the chance to talk to her, none of the words come out right.


Brask, please accept my apologies. You knew I would do this from the beginning. You knew it was inevitable. And you knew that I would feel this way in the end.


Is it the end? Do I want it to be the end?


It can't be the end - you and I both know that. Things will have to either be destroyed or resolved. I'm sorry, Brask, but I have to fix this. I know you want me to just end it all as soon as possible, but I can't do that. It may take a while, but I will fix this problem that I am having, one way or another. Your way may be the right way to go. Netsua's way may also be the right decision.


I know it hasn't happened yet, but there is always, and always will be, the chance that you are wrong. Accept that. I will try other things before I resort to your way. I have too much of a concsience to bluntly hurt people. You know that.


Only time can tell what happens next.


...TIME MACHINE!

Wow.

Charlie, Marcia, and Netsua were all right.

Especially Marcia.

I really doubted that would be the case. But there was SO much sexual tension built up between Mairead and I over a period of an extremely long time. I definitely had the most fun time of my life yesterday. Had there been something other than a concrete floor to lay on, had there been a condom in my pocket, and had her mother not been 20 feet away in the building next door, there would be nothing to stop Mairead and I from sex.

I am SO much more aroused by her now. I really, really, REALLY want to fuck her. I mean, seriously. I've never felt this attracted to someone.

It took me a while to finally kiss her. Right now, I wouldn't be possibly able to have a public, open relationship with Mairead. And I couldn't help but think, maybe that's what she wants. But then I also thought, "What if she doesn't want me at all? What if I'm only being invited over as a friend?" What a fool I was.

She made it clear that she doesn't want to date either. Neither of us can bear the whole 'high school relationshit drama' anymore. But that doesn't mean that we can't be friends! Real good friends.... Real good friends with benefits.... Real good friends with benefits that are kept secret....
Apparently, Laurel Rothrock doesn't 'approve' of me, which is strange considering I barely know Laurel. I don't think I've spoken to her since I was in 8th grade. That's most of the reason Mairead doesn't want to date.

And I'm not sure how Ely or Hunter or Malcolm would feel about Mairead and me. Well, Malcolm and Hunter probably wouldn't give a shit, but Ely might be a little annoyed with me.

...

Now Mairead and I are wondering when we'll have a chance to do this again. It will have to be a time when nobody is around, of course, Yesterday was the first time I had even seen Mairead without Nigel nearby. This is going to be difficult. Meanwhile, Mairead and I will just act like we're only friends in public. (We'll probably flirt when nobody's looking...)

It may be two weeks before Mairead and I can even kiss again. Two weeks is a long time. I just know it's going to drag by, second by second. But this seperation (Which won't really be a seperation considering we'll be seeing each other every day) will help build up more desire and interest. Or maybe we'll lose some interest. I hope that's not the case.

Maybe we can slip into the drama closet sometime when nobody's looking after school. Yeah, we'll probably end up doing that.

Controlled Schizophrenia

Hello.


I realized long ago that the only thing I ever really feel I need to write about is Mairead. And that fact irritated me for so long. But, eventually, I came to accept it and not really care anymore.


Recent occurences suggest that Mairead wants me back. A month or so ago, I recieved a note from her, after she had apologized to me for her bitchy behavior. I don't remember the exact words, but it basically said that she wasn't really very sure of how she felt about me. She said that her body is speaking much louder than her heart right now, but she knows that she still wants me back. I responded saying that I'm sorry if it seems like I've been still ignoring her, and that I don't really mean any ill will toward her. It was just hard for my mind, after having totally refuted any possible ideas involving her and I being together even as friends, to revert back to the state it had been in.


But even during the period of time when I hated her, I still wanted her back. After all, how could I have made such a big deal about it if I wasn't still "in love" with her? I used quotations around "in love" because now even I'm not sure what that means anymore.


Anyway, nothing happened for a while. I wasn't ignoring her or being rude to her in any way, but we weren't exactly best friends either. Her actions didn't seem to suggest at all that she was going to make any attempt to make me come back to her. I brushed it off my shoulder, thinking this was yet again one of the instances in which she feels strongly for someone for a very short period of time, and then loses it.


But lately, she's been more direct about things. She obviously wants to be close to me, and I obviously want to be close to her.


There are so many conflicting views on this in my mind. So, hypothetically, let's just say that we kissed. How would I - more accurately, how would WE - feel about it?


Brask-
Umm, excuse me, but WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? Are you SERIOUSLY planning on going back to this girl, after what she's done to you!? You KNOW that she's going to dump you again, and make you feel like shit once more! Do you REALLY want that!?


...


Austen-
Oh, Brask. You and your undeniable logic. Why do you have to be so RIGHT all the time? Can't you just let things slide?


Netsua-
For the most part, I agree with Brask. She has the potential to make you miserable again. And you know that you don't want that. But shouldn't you be concentrating on the present, rather than the past? If you can make each other happy, at least for a short time, isn't that better than the guilt you'd feel if you didn't go through with this, and the guilt she'd feel at thinking that her previous actions are what caused you not to go through with this? She already made it clear that she regrets her actions, and feels guilty about what she's done. Do you really want to cause more of these negative feelings?


Austen-
No, I don't. I just want to put the past behind me and let things happen.


Marcia-
(Marcia would be too wrapped up in joy to be able to say anything intelligible)


Austen-
Marcia? Hello? You there?


Charlie-
Sweet. I'm kissing a girl.


Austen-
Charlie, you rock. You don't give a shit about anything. You are just so chill all the time. High five.


...


Controlled schizophrenia. It is a wonderful tool to organize my thoughts on conflicting points of view.

Indecision and Confusion

Yeah. Things and stuff.

Over the past few weeks, things keep coming to my head about what to write about. But I've been too lazy/apathetic/reluctant to actually convert them to words. And now that I actually feel like sitting down and writing, not much is on my mind anymore. I hate it when that happens.
Reading and thinking about this and the previous blogs that I've had, I'm realizing (Jesus Christ, it took you this long, Austen?) that Mairead is inevitably going to be the only thing I will ever really desire to write about on this blog. Though much, much less than before, she is still a pretty major part of my life and my thoughts.

After she started being a huge hyper-bitch to me, I decided I didn't care anymore. I realized my major flaw in the whole scenario is that I was trying so hard. Trying something out implies that you expect, at least partially, to succeed. I tried very hard to restore with Mairead the friendship that we once had, and was met with failure and disappointment, leaving me in a worse position than I had been before.

So I decided not only to no longer try, but to completely stay away from Mairead altogether. I made myself hate her, and I was pretty justified for it, I think. I didn't talk to her, I left the conversation if she became a part of it, and, if we ever crossed paths in the hallway or something, I would deliberately avoid eye contact. And it felt so good to hate her. It was so easy!

She didn't seem to be even slightly affected by any of this, and I didn't care about it. In a way, I had hoped for that to happen. It meant I could go on hating her without feeling any guilt. I figured she had just become a selfish bitch, and that that was the way she'd remain. I had completely given up on her. If someone said anything bad about her, I would inevitably agree.
This was partly just because I didn't want to be around her, but also a bit of an effort to make her feel like crap. I was sick of taking crap from her and putting up with it, not doing anything about it. And, over time, she has made me feel worse than I've ever felt in my life. I wanted to return those negative feelings.

And that was SO EASY. I found it so much easier to be around her, because I maintained a fuck-off attitude towards her, shown with my refusal to communicate with her. I felt so happy, knowing that she was a heartless bitch and that I could finally forget about her.
And then she did something shocking that completely shattered all of this. She apologized. I didn't think it could possibly happen. I didn't think she had even noticed or cared about my decision to no longer be affiliated with her.

She didn't show it openly, but she really did want me to start talking to her again. I thanked her for her apology, and gave her a hug. And that was the last time I talked to her. It was on Thursday. Today is Sunday.

This is greatly distressing to me, and equally relieving. It's distressing because I can't hate her without feeling guilty anymore, because I now know her not to be the heartless bitch that I thought she was.

And it's relieving because deep down, all that I wanted was for this whole thing to be resolved, and for her to recognize that she had done wrong, and seriously hurt me.

*sigh*

I guess we'll see how things go.

...

I was talking to Brittany Stephens. She told me that Mairead is still slightly attracted to me. I guess Mairead could have been frustrated with that, which is what caused her to be such a bitch to me.

...My situation is unfortunately similar. If this is the case, (and I certainly hope it isn't), then I can partially understand her viewpoint.

I am not attracted to Mairead in an intimate way anymore. But she's been too much a part of my life to be ignored. She is there, if not in plain sight, then in my head. Jeez, I had completely blocked her out of my mind. Any thought about her that I had was shoved into the back of my mind. And when she apologized, it was as if all those thoughts came racing back into existence, and they completely filled my brain up.

I'm going to stop before I start to ramble on too much.

*EDIT*

Oh, by the way, Mairead broke up with Ely. I gave him a high-five.

No News.

...Hey.

How's it going?

...

Nothing?

...

Well, I guess no news is good news, right?

...

...right?

...

Creative juice can flow at last
Without the aid of someone loved
Netsua has long since passed
And Brask remains a figment of

Imagination - all it is
Just a way to pass the time.
Just clever little aliases
And now they're gone and I feel fine.

She continues to make her list
Of boys she's loved - Just tally marks
It grows with every one she's kissed
She couldn't help but break their hearts.

Or maybe I'm the only one
Who felt like I had been betrayed
Maybe all the others simply
Went along their merry way

At last my eyes can finally see
She's just another teenage girl
Another girl that once loved me
She didn't really mean the world

She'll keep this game up for forever
At least she is aware of that
Aware of what she does to us
What seems good now won't stay intact.

FUCK!!!

Fuck.

I don't know.

Just Fuck.

A good word, yes?

What does 'fuck' mean to you?

How often do you use the word 'fuck'?

Have you ever fucked anyone?

Or been fucked by someone?

Fuck.

WTF.

How much longer will this shit last?

Shit.

What the fuck is happening?

This is fucking helpful.

The word 'fuck' certainly relieves some stress...

I wonder who I'll fuck tomorrow.

Fuck you all.

Fuck clouds.

Fuck your couch.

These memories fucking suck.

I wish they would all just fuck off and die.

I wish I never met that fucking bitch.

And never shared all the fucking awesome times we had together.

That way, I wouldn't feel so fucking annoyed by this.

What fucking wrong have I done?

Seriously, What the fuck?

Well, fuck.

Fuck all of this.

Fuck this stupid high-school cliche shitty situation.

...

That was helpful.

Needed to relieve a bit of stress somehow.

Oh, yeah, and FUCK VALENTINE'S DAY.

SO FUCKING BORED

Words cannot describe the amount of boredom and frustration I am feeling right now.

So I was fishing in Animal Crossing. After doing this for about an hour, I caught 10 red snappers, valued at 3,000 each. I made 30,000 Bells. I decided to go check up on my good friend Lily the Frog and see how she was doing in her cozy igloo. She asked if I wanted to play a game. I said, "Sure!". Then that bitch was like "HAHA I'M GONNA TAKE 39,000 OF YOUR BELLS AND GIVE YOU THIS REALLY CRAPPY WALLPAPER HAHA ISN'T THIS A FUN GAME?!?!".

...FUCK. That bitch wasted an hour of my life. I will do everything in my power to make that stupid amphibian get the hell out of Specter, if it's the last thing I do!

*sigh*

It's February 10 already. When the hell did it become February? And holy shit.... We're in an entirely new decade....

What the hell is going on? Where did 2009 go? I miss him...

My mind is registering a blank when I think of what to write about. The only real reason I started this was because I wanted to vent about how FUCKING STUPID LILY IS.

....Sorry, I'll calm down now.

It amazes me how little there is to do in this house. From Thursday to Monday, I was hanging out with Nigel at his dad's house in Maryland. I had access to high-speed internet and an epic game called Prototype for the 360 24/7. And now it's all gone. And I have no pot. Perhaps I should continue my plays....

...Or do something productive like the extensive amount of homework that will be due Monday.

Nah.

I need something to smash. Or maybe I'll go cook something. That usually passes the time.

But I'm not hungry, because I have no pot.

*shakes fist at sky*

DAMMIT, GOD! WHY MUST YOU PUT ME THROUGH THIS PAIN!? WHY ME, OF ALL PEOPLE? HOW COULD YOU PUT ME THROUGH THIS HELL? OH, SAVE ME PLEASE! IF YOU REALLY EXIST, GIVE ME A SIGN! ANYTHING TO HELP CURB THIS PAINFUL BOREDOM!

...

Well, I guess that proves it, then.

This sucks.

It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry, new bloggy. I've been neglecting you. I'm sure you are very, very hungry. But it's okay! Daddy's here to feed you! Now, what do you want exactly to eat?

Oh, you want to hear about Mairead, do you? I'm sorry, bloggy, but the constant writing about that topic may permanently be a thing of the past. There isn't really anything to write about her anymore. I'm not in love with her. Sure, I'm still deeply in love with the memory of what she used to be and what we used to have together, but those times have long since passed. She's just another person to me now.

Come on, bloggy, I know there must be something else you want! I can't dwell on things of the past forever, you know! Well, fine, maybe there is something.

Friday night, after viewing John Hallberg's movie premiere at the high school, I had a couple of friends over. It's the first time that has happened since.... Damn, I can't even remember, it's been so long. Anyway, Ely Ashby was one of those friends. He kept telling me that he had something important to say to me, and when he finally got the chance, he did.

He's had a very large crush on Mairead for a long time. The times he comforted me when I felt rejected by Mairead finally make sense now. He told me that he understands how I feel more than I think. He never had what Mairead and I had together, and he never felt the feeling of being totally rejected by her, but it is still good to know that he empathized on a small level at the time.

He approached me because he still thought that I cared for Mairead, and he didn't want to ruin our friendship in any way if he were to ask her out. I assured him that Mairead means nothing to me now, other than a friend.

There is a small part of me that still absolutely hates Mairead for how she made me feel, and I know this is normal. There is also the part of me that can't help but remember the beautiful times we shared, and still feels a twinge of happiness and excitement when I see her face. I ignore both of these. I put them far, far back on the bottom shelf of the filing cabinet of my mind. I pretend that they don't exist, and I act like she is a friend to me, with no strings attached. But I still feel tense when we are together alone, and I believe she feels the same way to some extent. It's almost all an act, this friendship, and I'm getting very good at perfecting it. And when I don't feel like acting, I try to pretend she isn't there. It's a system that appears to be working for me for the time being.

I wish we had never had the love we shared, because then I'm sure I would be very good friends with Mairead. There would be no tenseness or awkwardness.

Anyway, Ely wanted to make sure I was okay with him asking Mairead out, and I made it very clear to him that I don't care. Mairead is attracted to him as well. He made sure of this through her friends.

After Hunter and Mairead broke up, she started to date Malcolm Perry a lot more. Malcolm's a good friend of minie, but he's usually very silent and keeps his opinions to himself. From the outside, he seems like a person who doesn't have much of an opinion on many things, but I'm realizing more and more that he is, in fact, very opinionated.

Apparently, he wants to completely and utterly save himself for marriage. He wouldn't even kiss Mairead, and Mairead couldn't help but break up with him. I had wondered whether Mairead and him were up to anything at all, because they were inseperable if they were in the same room.

So now Ely is dreading the confrontation with Malcolm, who is one of his best friends.

And now I can truthfully say that I wish the best for the two of them. Hopefully, he won't become another tally mark like so many others. But, knowing Mairead and her inability to stay in love with a boy for long, he probably will. And when that time comes, then Ely will have a much better grasp of how I felt when I was rejected by her.

So, anyway.

POSITIVITY!

I need to go read "Far From The Madding Cry" now.