I finished writing a very short story titled “This Charming Man,” which is inspired by The Smiths lyrics: "If you are so very entertaining, then why are you on your own tonight? If you are so very good looking, why do you sleep alone tonight?” Nothing original. I just wanted to capture how loneliness feels like. The next few weeks I’m on full edit-mode. How I hate editing. -___-
Last night I had a conversation with Someone. By “a conversation” I mean; I sat in silence while Someone drenched me in his realms version of my flawed reflection. We concluded that I’m far from normal. I do tend to drown out the positive with the negative when I’m disappointed, but this translates simply: “I don’t know how to let myself be loved.” So, my summer will be spent trying to balance my emotions, hopefully when I come across a resolution Someone will still be waiting there.
Lately I’ve also been losing close friends, each who repeat the same thing: “I’m not looking at the problems from their perspective.” I never did mind battling to save friendships, but I’ve grown tired of lacing up somebody else’s shoes around my feet, and trying to apologize.
Alike Amy Winehouse sings, I am going to become my own best friend until I find a way to fix myself. If it weren’t for my books, and my fasciation to keep learning about what lurks in outer space, I don’t know if I’d remain sane.
It’s not that I’m lonely, I’m used to being alone. I just want be treated like a human.
“So one of the first girls who came up to me, very pretty and maybe like 23, leans in and whispers: “This is one of the first books I ever read … I was 14 when I read this”, and I said “What the fuck were you doing reading this (American Psycho) when you were 14?” and she said… “This was the first book that taught me how to masturbate.”—Bret Easton Ellis (via garrettfaber)