Ignorance: Avoided by Reading More than one Book.

Yesterday, I opened my mailbox to find a pamphlet that says 'Jesus Christ: HE IS YOUR ANSWER' in my mailbox. I read it cover to cover. It sounded like propaganda, it had no real substance to its message, and it made Christians look incredibly ignorant—pretty much what you'd expect from the mentally inept people who usually spout this crap. It's not the fact that it promoted a religion that made it stupid; it's the fact that the people who wrote it were clearly retarded and had no clue as to the reality of the world around them. More on that piece of shit later.

I've been thinking about religion quite a bit lately. To put it simply, I think the aim of all religions is to fool, control and abuse the intellectually inept and those who can't properly critically think. Its goal is to regulate and manipulate, not to save like they so often claim. If you need to stick a label to my forehead, I am an agnostic (in terms of god in general), and an atheist (in terms of the Abrahamic God).

This said, however, I do not automatically hate or even dislike someone if and when I find out they have faith in a religion of some form—this alone does not make someone worth hating or disliking. The moment they say something of pure religious conviction that contradicts scientific knowledge or basic common sense, I usually lose respect for said person very, very quickly. Two of my closest friends are both Christians, and I don't know what I would have done without them. They've helped me countless times when I was in need, without banging on about their shit; they're both intelligent, caring people, regardless of their faith. So I don't develop disdain for a person simply because of their religious background—only on one's actions and intentions do I judge someone.

Even my first (and, at this stage, only :P) girlfriend is Christian. I knew of her faith before we started dating, but I couldn't care less at the time. Did it honestly matter? I couldn't have given less of a shit about her beliefs back then, even though I didn't share them; it blew me away that she'd put aside our differences just so we could be together. It never came between us, not for a long time. I knew it probably meant she would be unwilling to explore sexual avenues, but this was our first relationship, and it lasted little more than six months. I wasn't going to ask anyway, because religious or irreligious, we weren't ready for that kind of intimacy, and discussing it would just have made her uncomfortable. I was lucky to be with her at all; far be it from me to push things :P

Well, as much as I understood that, I was still going to play "Bash the Bible Basher".

Skip ahead about four months. By this time, I'd become wrapped up in more controversial stand-up comedians, starting with George Carlin, and moving on to Lenny Bruce, Bill Hicks, etc. Anyone familiar with even the gist of their work will cite its dark, cynical, anti-authoritarian nature; and that's what I became: darkly cynical and anti-authoritarian :P  I quickly grew to internally criticise religion, writing more and more on the subject in short monologues. At the same time, our year was doing some kind of life skills program (I would have thought you got those by... living... life... o.O). Among the workshops was one on homosexuality, and its tolerance in society—a few gay people came in to discuss their experiences, and would answer any questions the group had. My then-girlfriend was in the same group as me, so we did the workshop at the same time. After it ended, we left the building. Upon reaching the area where we hung out, I was about to reek of bigotry:

"Well, that was a bit pointless for you, wasn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're Christian, so you think gay people are all going to Hell anyway."

...see what I mean :P  I've more or less jumped to the conclusion she's homophobic based purely on her supposed religious beliefs. Now, I can't remember this conversation word for word, but it went something like this:

"Well, it's not like I hate gay people or anything——"

"Yeah, but you think they go to Hell just because they're gay."

"Well, I do think homosexuality is a sin, but that doesn't mean——"

"According to you, people go to Hell if they sin even once. Isn't that putting them on the same level as murderers?"

She now has tears in her eyes. She starts to cry, albeit holding back the tears to speak:

"I don't think gay people are on the same level as murderers; that's not what I think at all. It's not like I think gay people be punished in the same way murderers are; it's God who views all sins as equal, not me. I don't think gay people should be treated like murderers or anything like that. It's God's job to judge them, not mine."

At this point, it has come to my immediate attention that I am being a dick—an arrogant, bigoted, convoluted dick :P  I basically attacked her for what she might have believed, and for some pretty extreme potential beliefs at that. She wasn't a Bible basher at all, yet I treated her like one all the same. Realising what I'd done:

"...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that; it wasn't right——"

She then held her arms out, beckoning me towards her. I went to her, and she hugged me, tighter than she ever had before. I wrapped my arms around; I started to unwrap them about 10 seconds later, but she was still clinging on, so I stayed with her, still not aware of the full impact my actions were to have. It's a cruel irony that one of the closest moments we had came as a result of me being a dimwitted, overly-judgemental fucknugget. It frightens me to think that this event may have destroyed her feelings for me—it's not like I didn't deserve it, but it's still unnerving for me to think the only argument we had was this intense, and that from that point onwards, things weren't really the same. We never fought before this, about anything.

I mention this story because I know a lot of atheists and agnostics like to take the moral highroad and say 'we never try to force our beliefs on other people, unlike you religious bastards!' As my story demonstrates, this isn't true—it's all on the individual. I was the one being a bigoted cunt here, unlike the religious person, who had never tried to lay her beliefs on me a day in her life. Her parents had invited me to her Youth Group thing when we started dating, but that's as far as the word spread, so to speak.

Not too long after that, school finished, and she went on a trip to the United States to see relatives for about a month. She came over to my house once before she left, and we exchanged Christmas presents. She got me a Super Mario Chess Set—she evidently knows what I like, because that was awesome. I got her a necklace—I wanted to get her a copy of an anime film I'd heard about that was based off a series she liked, but couldn't find the damn thing anywhere :P  This, when I look back on it, makes it apparent to me that the relationship hadn't been too damaged by what I'd said. We kept in touch while she was over there over MSN, and nothing seemed awry. When she got back, however, she wasn't open to me at all. I knew it was over by the weekend, and the following Monday, I had to get someone else to give me the bad news because she wouldn't tell me. The best six months of my life ends here.

Months later, I was still trying to get over it. I'd left my friend group, going to the library at recess and lunch rather than outside to see them. Meanwhile, she started going out with a friend of mine; this I only found out about the day before our Year 12 Formal, so you can imagine how shitty I felt about that :P  Thing is, they split only two months after they'd started going out. I remember the day I saw 'Relationship Status: Single' printed on his Wall: I was fucking ecstatic. It was that simplistic, competitive animal inside of me looking at the numbers and gloating in his defeat. "I went out with her for longer than you, I did more stuff with her than you, I was closer to her than you; I win, you lose >:D". A dickish thing to think, most certainly; but when you're down, you'll look for anything to pick you up. From what I understood, she simply didn't like him as much anymore, and they'd been talked into it somewhat by friends, so it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Now skip ahead another six months to a random meetup with friends (little more than two weeks before the publishing of this entry). I'm well and truly past this shit now, and he and I are still friends—I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know I thought that way about him :P  The subject of their relationship was brought up (while he wasn't around, if I recall correctly) and it was mentioned that my ex's parents pressured her into leaving him because he wasn't Christian.

That fucked with my head, big time. My mindset instantly changed. Granted, I was no longer thinking "Haha, I'm better than you"—that mindset was limited to the night I'd seen the Facebook announcement—but my mind was now at the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Now, I felt enraged at the situation: he got royally fucked over. Shit, she got royally fucked over! He got judged prematurely by her fundamentalist, intolerant parents (who seemed to be fine with me, from my experience with them), and she got fucked out of making her own goddamned decisions. She was 18 by the time they'd started dating. She's an adult. She can think for herself. She decides who she does and doesn't go out with. This friend of mine isn't a drug dealer, nor a violent criminal, nor a rapist, nor a scumbag; he wouldn't do anything to hurt her; he's not a bad person. He did nothing to deserve the judgement he received.

And no, this isn't the chauvinist in me trying to step in and valiantly defend my fair lady; I'm not trying to win her back in any sense by appealing to some code of morality. The fact of the matter is that her fucking parents have no place deciding who their adult daughter does and doesn't go out with. There are only two prerequisites for a relationship here: Person A wants to go out with Person B, and Person B wants to go out with Person A. That's the end of the process. If she decides on her own that she doesn't want to go out with a man who isn't Christian, so be it. The point still stands: she goes out with whoever the fuck she wants to go out with. Shit, if I'm not right for her, can she at least be free to choose my fucking replacement?

It disgusts me that her parents have that much influence, that anyone has that much influence in deciding the outcome of a relationship other than the people involved. It's clear abuse of the "Honour thy Mother and Father" commandment; just because it's there doesn't mean parents have the right to be uptight, ignorant, judgemental cunts.

Because that's what this shit does to some people: it fucks their minds right up. It destroys their ability to think properly and actually deal with situations rationally; it permanently tarnishes their perspective on everything. Her parents may have disagreed with her choice to date an irreligious guy, and even expressed their opinions to her—that's their right as people—but I'll be damned if I'm going to think it appropriate for them to fucking interfere with her dating life. And I mean, this doesn't even affect me, yet I took it so personally when I heard about it because I probably fell victim to the same bullshit. I bet you anything that while she was in the U.S., her extended family advised her to leave me. I'd put my life on it. Whilst I had most certainly changed as a person, and become a lot less like the person she liked, the reasoning of 'I just don't find him fun to be around anymore' could have simply been a cover-up for the true reasoning. For now, however, I believe what I've been told—my ex has never been one to lie.

I'm evidently angry about this, which itself irritates me a little: this is all so minor in the grand scheme of things, yet I feel so strongly about it. I don't think ill of my ex for any of this at all; as I've said, she was just as much a victim of her parent's ignorance as my friend was, and as I may have been. It's all in the past, and it's just one small part of my life; but it's still someone's feelings they were toying with, and, at least in my friend's case, what was done was revolting. Being dumped is hard enough as it is, but if it was her decision, I'd have no reason to feel angry. Being dumped with reasoning this poor, on the other hand, is just fucking cruel.

This is when I begin to hate religious people: when the exercise control over their subjects for the sake of their own hate. It's ignorant meddling, and those who meddle ignorantly should be treated like the unenlightened knobs that they are. I learned from my mistake when I called my ex a homophobe, and I apologised for my intolerance because I knew what I did was very wrong and hurtful. She deserved absolutely none of the hate that came out of my mouth, not a fucking word of it. The more fundamentalist religious folk, however, preach till they die, and never realise how ignorant they or their words are, even when they're presented with the evidence.

This brings me to the pamphlet. I scanned it with a magic scanning machine to show it to you:

This is the front cover. Not much to say about it—standard fundie-Christian fare. Now, what is Jesus Christ my answer to? Did I ask these people a fucking question? If I'd asked "What's the name of the man who Christians believe died for their sins 2,000 years ago?", then yeah, Jesus Christ would be my answer. But I didn't ask that question. I didn't ask these people any goddamned questions. Is this Jeopardy by mail-order? Do they send me the answer so I can send them the question?

You see, I was under the impression that Christians thought accepting Jesus into your life was the solution to the problem of sin, not the answer to a fucking question. Devalues the guy a tad, don'tcha think? They evidently respect Him about as much as they do the language.

Also, gotta love the choice of red as the highlighting colour—you know, the same colour as the Devil, hellfire, blood, anger, lust, rage, and evil. Well, at least it's honest!

The first page—where the madness really begins. Now, firstly, why bother quoting the Bible to try and convince me that God is real and that Jesus died for my supposed sins? I believe the Bible was thought up by men thousands of years ago with the intent of tricking people into following their bigoted command from beyond the grave—the point's fucking moot because the book has no credibility to me.

Next up, the classic "Here's how it is, folks!"—making statements and assertions without a shred of fucking evidence to back your point up. God made us, did he? Prove it. You can't? Then stop talking.

Also sick of this "We are sinners by default" nonsense. Really? So, even foetuses are sinners? The fuck did a foetus do to you? To anyone? Yeah, it might have given its mother morning sickness and a bit of swelling, but was that its fault? Why are we sinners right off the bat? And, if we're below God's standards by His design, why the hell are we expected to meet His standards in the first place? Is He incapable of lowering His standards, or producing us to a better standard? To quote Lenny Bruce:

"If God created the body, and the body is dirty, the fault lies with the manufacturer."

Just replace 'dirty' with 'sinful', and there goes your point.

Then we get to the diagram. God likes His metaphors, and He likes them blunt. And stupid.

First off, since when did God live in a forest next to a cliff? Is that Heaven? That's a shithouse Heaven, man. God can do better than that. Where are the fluffy clouds? And the golden harps? And the pearly gates? There aren't any fucking gates, not even a fence or a roof! Shit, you could fly a plane over the top, jump out, and land in this Heaven! What kind of Heaven can be broken into via parachute!? Total fail.

Also love the bridges we've apparently been trying to build. Let's get one thing straight across the board: this diagram assumes we do all these things to reach the Abrahamic God. This assumes He is there to be reached; this alone could be false. In reality, these things may be practised without the intent of reaching God (with the exception of non-Abrahamic religions). In reality, these things are usually practised to either advanced society or because it's seen as the right thing to do. Must have been hard for them to type this with their heads stuck so far up their arses.

Morality: wait, what? Morality isn't a good way to reach God? Doing things you believe to be right and acting in a morally righteous manner to people doesn't mean anything to Him? Well, I suppose you could look at the way some fundamentalist Christians act and talk sometimes, and agree with that one :P  But... isn't there a Christian morality? What about that morality? That one sucks too? Damn, I guess all moralities must be awful. Well, at least I'll have no need to think of other people when I act now that I'm saved!

Religion: Wow. Just wow. I can't even begin to process the amount of irony they managed to cram into the presence of that one word. Let's get this straight, shall we? Oxford Dictionary defines religion as: 

the belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power, especially a personal God or gods

Does Christianity involve belief in and the worship of a personal God? Why, yes, it does! Therefore, Christianity is a religion; and, according to this diagram, religion doesn't let us get to God. We're not even two thirds down the first page, and they've already gone and completely fucked their argument. But, for the sake of humour, let us continue.

I'm sick of these faggots who try to separate their own religion from all the others by not classifying it as religion. The dictionary and the nature of context makes you incorrect. Even if your religion is correct, it is still a religion. Please get over yourselves. I'm pretty sure arrogance of that calibre is frowned upon by your God.

Good Deeds: see Morality (note to author: they're practically synonyms, for fuck's sake >.< ).

Philosophy: hahahahaha—oh, you're serious. Let me, a Philosophy student, school you. A key area of Philosophy is the concept of logic (the study of correct reasoning). Part of logic is mathematical logic (logic involving mathematical symbols). Without this, they wouldn't have the computer they typed this on, nor the printer they printed it with, nor the resilient architecture of the churches they worship in. Then there's the linguistic element of philosophy, without which they wouldn't have the ability to communicate with their computer nor their fellow Christians. That's not to mention the impossibility of such texts as the Bible, which I gathered was their lovechild from all the quoting they've been doing. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that there have been, and are, devout Christian philosophers—Immanuel Kant is a fantastic example. Way to insult one's own kind.

And all this has been done without success? Well, what does one do when they try something, wishing to succeed, but fails in the process? They try again. People will continue to attempt advancing society via these means forever, Bible or no Bible, God or no God. One day, we might find the key answer people have been searching for, whatever it is, if there is one—it may or may not lie in the hands of God.

Oh, but look! Apparently, we can build a bridge—with a novelty-sized cross. The symbolism hits deep, doesn't it. Also love that it's not Sinful People, it's just Sinful Man. Chicks must get a free pass—can't say Christianity beats down on women's rights now, can you, ladies?

OK, first off, the bridge itself is impassable. I can get about 40% of the way over the bridge, then I run into the tip of the cross. Meanwhile, those amoral, Jesus-reject plane-flying motherfuckers can still get in without a problem. Is there a ladder? A lift? Suction cups or something? Same goes for getting down the other side—do we abseil down? Is there a water slide? A slippery dip? I ain't never seen no cross with a goddamned slippery dip. That's because there is no slippery dip. That's because you don't build bridges out of crosses. And anyway, how wide was the cross that Christ was crucified on? Stretch your arms out as wide as you can—there's your answer. That's hardly a large gap. People can't jump that? Or find a plank of wood that long somewhere? Just take a plank off the actual cross! Damn, the security in this place is worse than at APEC '07. 

I also see more Bible quotes; these I shall explore for you. Gotta love the claim that sinners are all wicked, greedy, depraved, envious, murdering, disobedient, lying, malicious, gossiping, slandering, God hating, insolent, arrogant, boastful inventors of evil operandi. Wow! That's not not a wicked, depraved, malicious, slanderous, arrogant, boastful thing to say at all! Then, the next quote says "no one can boast about [having faith]." Yeah, ragging on those you want to save, not boastful in any way. Implicit braggin' is still braggin'. Any author of scripture, God or otherwise, knows that if you're gonna contradict yourself, you have to do it on different pages.

God demonstrates his love for us by having Christ die for us? No—God demonstrated his love for us by having Christ die for us. Get your tense straight, yeesh (waits for someone to find a temporal error in this entry :P).

And Jesus answered what, exactly? More fucking questions I didn't ask! Is there a question in the previous quote? That's not a question; that's a statement, an assertion, a proposition. This stuff really isn't hard to grasp—there are kindergarteners more linguistically enlightened than these pricks.

Back cover. I can choose to cross—I see what you did there! Credit where credit's due; that was a good one.

...wait... I can choose to cross? I cannot build the bridge? What must I do? Like, the author's referring to themselves in the first person? What? Well, if it's what they must do, why the hell are they sending it to me! They should send it to themselves!

"...repent then, and turn to God"... no, you turn to God first, then you repent! Who are you repenting to if not to God? The atmosphere? Don't you know it's polite to look at someone when you talk to them?

And why does this pamphlet feel the need to tell me what Heaven and Hell is? I live in a country where 66% of the population aligns themselves with some form of Christianity, and we get most of our media from a country where 80% does the same. I know this shit, man! I don't live under a rock—and if I did, I'd make damn sure I didn't have a mailbox so I didn't find crap like this in there when I got home.

I also need to mention, just in case anyone is unaware, that the whole CAPS LOCK IS CRUISE CONTROL FOR COOL thing is actually sarcasm. These people must have thought it was serious. We learned types have a pretty dry sense of humour at times, don't we ;)

And what's this about helping me grow? What man doesn't know how to grow? Every man knows what turns him on; we can take care of this ourselves, thank you very much. Or did they mean grow taller? God's not gonna help kids grow taller. Kids grow taller until they hit their 20s, then they stagnate, then they start shrinking at 50. God's not gonna interfere with that process. Don't give kids false hope like that—every kid wants to be tall. Hey, at least they know what the kids want, right? They're all kinds of hip, and they're most certainly down with it, if I may say so myself.

I laughed when I saw it was from a Korean church. Living in Australia and seeing that was just funny for me; I don't really know why. If Australian Koreans wanna practise Christianity, that's cool, go right ahead; just do a better job of proselytising next time. Throw some evidence in the mix! It helps :)  Koreans practising a Middle Eastern religion in black man's country that was taken over by white Europeans—multiculturalism at work, 'eh?

Getting to the point: my main problem with this garbage is that it doesn't tell me a damn thing. I know Christians believe I'm a sinner and that I need to accept God and Jesus to be saved; what new information does this pamphlet present to me? None. No presented evidence, no compelling argument, nothing of any value; just drivel that I've heard a million times over. It's sad to think these people are under the impression that they're saved—if God is real, and He lets people this stupid in to Heaven... fuck it, leave me out. The Devil might be a cunt, but if he shares a flat with Christopher Hitchens, Charles Darwin, Mahatma Ghandi, Frank Zappa, and the aforementioned comedians, I think I'll crash with them, rather than these silly bastards who think they're headed to a magical forest upon death.

Image: I Have Lots of Problems Too. I'm Just Like You... Except I'm Not.

Not too long ago, I realised I'd answered a question of mine, a question I'd asked myself ages ago. How ever long ago it was, I looked at all the things that I don't like about myself, the things that are 'wrong' with me—the way I eat, my difficulty in dealing with social situations and change in life, my discomfort around trying new things, the list goes on—and I wondered if there was a central issue surrounding it all. I thought "well, if there's a central problem inherent in all these smaller issues, then I only have one problem to solve, and it'll be my first step to making my life a whole lot better". Oblivious to my discovery, I summed it up in an earlier entry with these words:

The fact of the matter is: I'm not willing to take risks anymore. I don't want to talk to this girl for fear of embarrassment and rejection; I don't want to ask anyone to let me perform comedy for fear of social contact and disturbing the status quo (in terms of scheduling: you have no idea how much I hate interrupting people—I don't even make phone calls on that basis :P); I don't want to drive a car for fear of a collision; I don't want to drink or consume any party drug for fear of loss of self awareness and control, possible arrest and almost certain bodily harm. I'm simply no longer in favour of putting myself in any position where there's anything substantial to lose anymore.

So, the central issue appears to be fear of a negative outcome. Problem is, I've conquered the problem before, and several occasions on which I did so follow that quotation. I used to be able to deal with that problem; the issue now is that I don't have the self-respect or self-worth to justify doing such things.

Speaking of recent discoveries, I found out a day or two ago that a friend of mine made her blog public again. Turns out she's been reading mine, and she wrote a few entries on topics I spoke about. Some might be pissed off were their friends to read their blogs, but I'm actually quite happy she's reading it. Obviously, I'm pleased someone's reading it at all, that's nice on its own; but it's also good to know that there's someone out there, incidentally someone I know, who I can kinda talk to about things without actually talking to them. One might think "why not just fucking talk to her about the stuff directly?"... I dunno. I feel uncomfortable talking to anyone about these issues because I always feel like I'm being a nuisance. At the same time, if someone needed to talk to me about something, I'd try to help them, and in reality, my friends would do the same for me, so thinking I'd irritate others if I did so is a little ridiculous :P  Even with that said, however, I still don't like to do it, so I keep to myself.

Anyway, this friend is currently trying to lose some weight. That's all well and good, and she seems to be managing it quite well (from what little I've read, anyway), but she keeps calling herself 'fat' and describing her body as if it's some kind of blob with a head on top. I don't see that. I will admit, there's meat on her bones, but I thought that was fucking normal :P  I just cannot see a problem with her size or her figure. Granted, this is coming from the same person who was attracted to her seven months ago, but even though all that sexual tension is gone, that doesn't change my opinion. Thankfully, she realises that the negativity is simply a state of mind, and she tries to counter this mindset.

Thing is, there are heaps of things I could say about myself that would paint an equally negative picture. Friend of mine thinks she's ugly? Bullshit; I'm ugly. Face is alright, but my teeth are all out of whack (sucked my thumb as a kid, hated wearing the corrective gear to fix the problem :P). My hands and wrists remind me of Mr. Burns; I have no muscle whatsoever; and my legs are like those you'd find on starving African children. That's all due to my diet, which is abhorrent and will probably lead to my death at 30-something. I don't have the determination to change that, nor even the will to try any new food. That begs the question: why bother asking a woman on a date? I'm going to eventually have to make it clear that I don't eat like everyone else, which will probably be a huge turn off. There goes any hope of dinner at a restaurant, lunch with friends for introductions, dinner with the parents: that's all instantaneously fucked as soon as the declaration is made. That, coupled with the shallow exterior and opinionated interior, makes for a shitty boyfriend :P

This is all assuming, of course, that I'd ever have the guts to talk to a woman, but why do that when rejection is more-or-less guaranteed not far down the road, if not on the spot? Where am I even going to meet one? I have no social life whatsoever. All the friends I have are from my old school, and I'm hardly ever in contact with them. I really only ever start chatting to two of my friends; a few others occasionally say 'Hi', but it's mainly the same two people, and it's not all that often. I have nothing interesting to talk about, so why bother? I never go anywhere either—no parties, no outings, nothing other than the occasional movie. Where else is there to go, anyway? I don't drink, so why go out to clubs and bars? I'd be wasting my fucking time, not to mention putting me in that atmosphere is the quickest way to make me bored and uncomfortable. Most times I've been with people who are drinking, it ends up sucking major balls. Unfortunately, that's where you meet people these days, so no progress can be made on any front.

It all comes down to perspective: my friend sometimes thinks she's fat, and this can lead her to believe she is viewed as unattractive. I've never believed she's fat, but her self-image is a lot closer to her than my image of her, as would be the case for most people. Likewise, my other friend tried to imply that I wasn't the arsehole I was making myself out to be. I disagreed because I felt more strongly about what I'd done then he did. It's like we don't want to get our hopes up for something that won't happen, at least when we're in this state. This has been getting worse for me, though. I've spent a few mornings lately lying in bed practically bashing myself up in my own head, thinking about this stuff and basically not seeing the point in even getting up. Once I make all the inferences from the data, there ceases to be a point in doing anything, so why get out of bed?

I wish I could just ditch all social desires, friendwise, romance wise, all of it. It's only when I think of those things that I look at myself this way. When I'm preoccupied doing something else, this shit almost never happens. When I'm writing a monologue, a script, a poem, or a story, or when I'm working on a bigger video project, or playing a game, or watching YouTube, I'm focused on everything else. I don't think about other people, only myself. It's indulgent and selfish but it fucking works. All I get then are challenges and ideas: things to beat and ways to beat them. Good ol' problem solving FTW :P

There are heaps of things I seriously want to do, but don't, and even when merely thinking about doing them, it's better than thinking of my social life. I wanna get on stage every week at uni and rant about whatever comes to my mind. I wanna join an improv troupe somewhere and learn how to think on my feet a little better. I wanna write satirical articles for some newspaper and get under people's skin. I wanna take my Nintendo 64 to the mall and play Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros. with complete strangers. I wanna wear a Klu Klux Klan outfit in public and hold up a sign that says "FREE HUGS (COLOUR DOESN'T MATTER)" on one side, and "NEW KKK: MORE ROBES, LESS RACISM!" on the other; then, when I get arrested, I can ask why I'm being judged on what I'm wearing rather than what I'm doing. I wanna go into a high school pretending to be a Department of Education representative to tell the kids on their assembly that school uniform is a psychological control mechanism. I wanna learn martial arts from Jackie Chan, then crash through the roof of Parliament House and beat the shit out of everyone in that motherfucker. I wanna go to an anti-LGBT rally and hold up a sign saying "HOMOPHOBES ARE THE REAL FAGGOTS". I wanna intercept the O'Reilly Factor broadcast on Fox and play 'Wake Up' by Rage Against the Machine instead. I wanna break into a bank and modify the code in the system such that all the bank fees and loan interest go straight to charity (and a little to my own account, for my services :D).

All those things I can do without worrying about friends or food (except the Jackie Chan one... that one's a little outta reach :P).

Most of all, though, I want to be with someone, and love someone. I don't know why, but the urge is always there, and it grows every day. I feel like I've devolved, like I'm back to being a 16 year old boy, simply wondering what it's like to be with someone, how it feels; I just don't know anymore. That's half the fucking problem: I've been there. I've actually been there. I don't just want it; I want it back. I want to explore another relationship. I want to feel for someone so strongly that I can't hold my feelings back anymore. I wanna hold her hands and get lost in her eyes as she looks down in shyness and giggles. I wanna know what it's like to wait for a text I'm expecting from her. I wanna have that one in-joke that only we understand. I wanna watch TV with her and berate whatever shit they've put on. I want her to run up to me from behind and cuddle me, the warmth from her body filling my own. I wanna walk home with her in the rain. I wanna make her feel better when she cries. I wanna have arguments with her just so we can come out stronger and hug tightly when we make up. I wanna see her close her eyes in ecstasy as I feel her up under her shirt. I wanna kiss her all over her naked body before she pushes me onto the bed and steals my idea. I wanna make love with her at her old high school... during school hours, for that extra thrill :P  I wanna be told what turns her on so she can lure me into her fantasy.

I wanna feel so much for her that I can't help but tell her I love her.

That desire always comes back; it never goes away. Problem is, shit that perfect is, like, unattainable, especially with all my flaws :P  It's awesome to write about and fantasise about, sure, but is it gonna actually happen? The image isn't quite that strong :P

I still feel like that little 16 year old boy, but now I'm in the adult's world. I still have that teen angst, I still have that teen curiosity; I even look the fucking part :P  That's even why I don't perform comedy at uni: are a bunch of young adults gonna take some fresh-outta-high-school fucknugget like me seriously? Are they gonna think I can actually humour them? That sounds intimidating. I mean, I've performed in front of adult audiences, and I've performed once in a really adult environment (which was the most fucking fun ever :P), but there's an eerie 'you don't belong there' vibe I get, being the presumptuous cunt I am.

I don't know if a woman will really ever see anything in me, nor do I really think I can do much to make one happy. I don't even really know what love is or what it feels like, not in the romantic sense—I haven't experienced it enough to get any strong grasp. I assume I'll know when I feel it, but I don't know. All I really know is that, with all that's been said and all the conflicting emotion, I still want to find someone I can be with.

Even if it's only for a little while.

Cool: That Which I Am Not

At least I know that even motherfuckers as legendary as Pryor had problems similar to mine :P

I'm getting a little worried... I've only just come to the realisation that there are only two weeks left in the semester. After that, all my classes change (provided I'm not kicked out or something :P). My classes change, my classmates change. To put it bluntly, I only have two weeks left where I have any solid chance of seeing her in class again. I know we do the same course and hence will definitely share lectures, but tutorials are far smaller and my chances of scoring one with her aren't in my favour—besides, I can't hear her voice or see her smile in lectures, at least not without giving myself away :P

The answer seems simple, right?

Talk to her.
Get to know her.
Befriend her.
From there, it's easy.

That might be simple for you, but it's not for me :P  I just suck at meeting people—I don't go anywhere or do anything (uni for me consists of class and existing friends :P), I'm extremely hesitant to talk to anyone I haven't spoken to before, and I have no confidence whatsoever. I am socially deficient; I haven't had the experiences others have had in the field. I was walking around uni with a friend of mine today—he bumped into at least six or seven people he knew, starting conversations with each one while I stood there like a jackass unable to speak :P  I can't talk to strangers, not without a damned good reason.

But, surely, wanting to get to know someone I'm interested in is good reason, right? Not really :P

Forget social justification, or even emotional justification; I need logical justification. There must exist a need to talk to someone for a reason they won't think of as suspicious in any regard. It was easy to talk to my previous girlfriend because we were in the same friend group—that made it really easy for me to get to know her. Here, however, I've got no connections whatsoever, at least none I'm aware of. If I can fucking find one, I can worm my way in and be done with this bullshit; going up to her alone, on the other hand, is suicide. Think about it: what would you think if some random guy you know from one of your classes, who's never spoken to you nor been encountered outside of class, came up and said 'Hi!', or 'How are you?', or 'What's up?', or anything else? To me, no matter the person, they're just gonna think '...what the fuck's up with this guy? Who is he and why is he talking to me? Creepy! ' Bad fucking vibe :P

I need an excuse to talk to her, something validated by external forces. I need to legitimately accidentally bump into her and make her drop her stuff. I need her to forget her pen and have to ask me for one. I need to do some group assignment with her. I need a friend of hers to know a friend of mine to make for a nice, clean introduction. I need some goddamned help here! Help the noob! :P

I think I mentioned in one of my earlier entries that 'the prescription on my balls had run out', comparing my current level of courage to that of two years ago when I asked a girl out who I'd never really spoken to. This is still true, most certainly, but I think we can all agree that asking this new girl out when I haven't talked to her isn't the best way to go about this :P  I could, if I really put myself on the spot and said 'fuck it, it's all or nothing!', but that tact is sure to get me little more than a goofy look and a rather quick rejection.

I wouldn't really care about this all that much, but these feelings seem to have intensified significantly since Tuesday. I didn't think about her too much when not sharing that class, not until now. I can't be sure if I'm simply clinging onto whatever I can find again, perhaps getting overzealous and liking someone simply for the sake of liking someone. I'm well aware that one's perception of any issue can be heavily altered by external factors—but there are things I really like about this girl, attractions I can understand, simple as they may be. I could look at her for hours, that's a given; and what little I've seen of her personality and psyche I adore and want to see more of. It's gotten to the stage where I'm like 'That's what attraction is, right? That's how it's supposed to work, yeah?' It's been that long :P

I think my libido's getting impatient, too. Sex has been on the brain for a while—it's something I really want to experience, and soon. I'm repeatedly comparing myself to those around me, always looking around at uni and going '...he's fucked... he's fucked... she's fucked... he's probably fucked... you know they're fucking... he's fucked... she's probably fucked... she's fucked...' I don't know if I'd feel more comfortable or more freaked out if I knew anyone else who did that :P  I've dreamed of having sex and making love that many fucking times that I just want to do it. I've repeatedly told myself that 'I'll wait until I can do it with someone I have feelings for, to make it memorable and to ensure more comfort and security'. I know all the while, however, that I could easily go to a party, find a slut with low standards, and fuck her brains out; or, if I was prepared to shell out a bit, go to a brothel and pay for my coming of age. I don't want to, though. I want my first experience to be that of making love, not just having sex.

With that term, 'making love', I used to think it was purely a euphemism employed to allow the discussion of sex in more conservative contexts without offending the easily offended. I've come to different terms since all those months ago when I wanted to lose my virginity at my Formal's after-party. I don't know if other people think this way—maybe this is just another instance of me falling behind in the social arena :P—but to me, making love is having sex because of love. In my head, there's a big difference in me having sex with a woman and me making love with a woman. All you've gotta do to have sex is stimulate the sexual organs with the intent of reaching orgasm, usually through the insertion of a phallus into an orifice. Sure, you can have accompanying kissing/hugging/foreplay/whatever else, but the reasoning behind that is more physical than emotional. Making love is more of a full on process, at least from what I like to envision. There's a distinct look on the face, controlled movements of the body to ensure mutual pleasure, and a force behind it all that pushes both parties closer and closer to one another the entire way through. It's something I've never seen recreated well on a screen—and besides, the images in my head were developed by me for me, so they're gonna have more impact anyhow :P

That's how I wanna lose my virginity: through that act and that act alone. My pleasure in fantasising always stems off the pleasure I see through the woman's expressions, and that's what I want to experience: a mutual feeling where I want to be with a woman to the point where I become as close as I can possibly be with her. The problem is, that will only come from a steady relationship.

Even though I speak commonly on my lack of self confidence and disbelief in what's mentioned above from having any real place in reality, I still want it, and I want it more every day, even if it's by just a little bit. It's not like I'm gonna rape someone if I don't get pussy soon—I mean, couldn't rape a six year old if I tried (I'd say something like 'and believe me, I have!' ... but no one believes me). The urge, however, will always be there. My physical feelings for this girl explored in this way give me a little incentive to try and talk to her, but not much. Her pussy can't talk anyway; her mind can, but I'm yet to meet it. I want to meet it, but I just don't have it in me to go through with it on my own. At the same time, however, I don't want to just wait and hope for a miracle, because that's probably not going to happen.

...how do I relationship :P

Beauty: In Language and People

I went to bed at 11 pm last night; I wasn't asleep until sometime past 3am the next morning.
I woke up with 10 minutes to get ready; it took me 15.
I got to my editing lecture 10 minutes late.

But goddamn, I'm happy right now.

Editing class does that to me. If the language is drugs, grammar is my crack cocaine: pure and dangerous. I mean, it's the only class where I really know what I'm doing. It's not like I'm not learning anything—if anything, I learn more and more each week—but it's the only class where I sit down and know I'm gonna kick ass in at least some respect. Substantive editing (editing for tone, consistency, redundancies, point of view, etc.) isn't the easiest and I'm only just picking it up, but there's a real buzz out of picking up someone's work and ripping it to pieces, suggesting better ways to say things, questioning all the ambiguities—brings out the superiority complex in everyone :P  Line-by-line editing (accidental narcotics pun FTW :D), however, is my favourite: droppin' punctuation like a boss, correcting the typos even Word would miss... fucking fun ^_^

I somehow managed to get into a little discussion with the teacher on whether the word 'over' in the title One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest was a preposition. Without really realising it, I'd come to a stronger conclusion than she had, being correct in stating that it was indeed a preposition rather than an adverb (as had been contested). She then complimented me on my grammatical ability in general—to quote NintendoCapriSun: so happy! It's just good to know the work I've put in to my technical writing skills over the years has paid off. On one hand, it's probably a little ridiculous that such a small compliment can make me feel so proud; but I know when I've earned my keep, and this is one keep I have fucking earned. 1 smiley approved for display :)

On the other hand... don't call my grammar good when there's a woman I'm interested in sitting across from me! You trollin'? Don't fucking troll me now, not with this! I already have next to no chance—are you gonna rob a poor man? The only thing I like more than that class is her... and she's in that class... so, not only am I doing lines, but I've also got a needle sticking out my arm! It doesn't matter what she wears, how she does her hair, who she's with, her mood that day... she's beautiful. Every class with her sees my urge to talk to her grow—and that's seriously the only thing I wanna do with her right now! Well... not the only thing, but the first thing, most certainly! I keep saying to myself 'Goddamn it, seriously, I would kill people just to talk to her. I'd slaughter half the fucking room just to get so much as a five minute conversation! I'll go Virginia Tech level if I have to—I don't care!' ...what the fuck am I talking about? I'll commit academic genocide, but won't go up to a girl I'm interested in and say 'Hi!'? These drugs are fucking my sense of logic right up :P

What's unusual is that I don't want to look at her. I actively prevent myself from doing that. The urge to ogle was stronger today than it has been for the past few weeks... it's getting harder and harder to not look :P  It's that thing where you want to look at someone, so you do, and then they look at you perchance, and you instantaneously look away thinking you've gotten away with it... then you go right back to looking at the person, they look at you again perchance, and you look away again—as if that trick's gonna work twice :P  She makes me forget all the shortcomings I usually think of when dreaming of women in solitude. I'm not even in the picture—it's just her. I don't know if that's love, and the label doesn't matter to me: all that matters is that I'm happy when I see her. Maybe I'll talk to her, maybe not—I really want to—but for now, I just like seeing her. I'll take what happiness I can get right now: if seeing her makes me happy, so be it. They're not dirty thoughts, nor intrusive, confusing, ambiguous, hurtful: just beautiful. Like her innocent smile... and the eyes that pop out of her head... and her curly hair... and her skin...

Beautiful like her :)

Interest: Plummeting Faster than The Stock Market

What happened here? Suddenly, everybody needs to be motivated? 

It's a fairly simple thing: either you wanna do something or you don't.

George Carlin

Looks like I'm part of the latter group: even though I live a life of fiscal, recreational and organisational ease and luxury, it's harder than ever for me to bring myself out of bed, even if I have somewhere to be. I missed a whole day's worth of classes simply because I got up too late and couldn't be bothered going anywhere, the twenty minute walk being just too much for me to handle—first world's a bitch like that :P  It's ridiculous how one negative thought can manifest into ten or fifteen which then combine like the Power Rangers, using their incredible force to obliterate the evil that is my hopes and dreams :P  I used to actually have hopes and dreams… there aren't many left. Everyone around me seems to have concrete goals, or at least goals they can plan for and progress towards in a measurable manner. What are my goals? …don't be miserable… that's the only one I can say for sure. There's heaps of other stuff I'd like to do—that I'd love to do—but that for me doesn't automatically constitute a 'goal'. I've always been told a goal is supposed to be achievable, and that's the definition I take; once I deem such a thing unachievable, it stops being a goal and becomes a pipe dream. So I have lots of pipe dreams… meaning my life's going down the wrong tube.

The most prevalent dream, by law, must always be to do with a girl: whether it be in the traditional sense of 'I have a dream', or the contemporary sense of 'I had a dream last night', it's always a woman. University is a smorgasbord; and with classes as long as two hours, there's always time to ogle at the one I choose to in silence as she looks at her notes or the tutor. It's almost too easy—she sits on the other side of the room, for fuck's sake! Such pleasure in hypothetical futures quickly dissipates, however, when my brain deems this to be an illogical desire, at least when my personality and habitual flaws are brought to light. Any rational person clearly understands that there is no justification in chasing something this unlikely—surely, no woman would want to go out with anyone who looks, talks, eats or thinks like me. I'm ugly, picky, whiny and disgusting: what a catch :P  But, what am I supposed to do? Not look? Not want? Not dream? As much as I'd like to stop dreaming, it's not possible! I'm heterosexual: I'm going to like women whether I want to or not. Being the paradoxical little fuck it is, reason also states that this shit simply isn't reasonable: neither love, nor lust, nor attraction is controllable like that. I want it to be, but it isn't. That's what's really illogical: to expect me to ditch desires inherent in my nature as a human being.

I've had heaps of dreams lately (the kind you have at night fast asleep, even though I'm usually half awake when doing so; kind of like a daydream at night time) that portray me being close with a woman, beyond mere sexual contact. Images of all sorts fill me with warmth, such as me with my arms wrapped around her in bed; or cuddling her with my back against a wall; at a café together, her laughing as we converse; or at a dance of some form where her head rests on my upper chest (the dictionary doesn't really give me the impression that I have a 'bosom' for her head to be resting on :P), my hand slowly stroking the back of her head, fingers flowing through her hair, her eyes closed, using me as her pillow so to speak. The problem is, having not seen the particular girl I'm attracted to for about a month now (due to the break, classes being cancelled/missed, etc.), and only really scratching the surface on said attraction anyway, she's fading from memory; this leads to my brain going back and picking anyone it can to fill the gap. In this state, this limbo of allure, the woman's identity is far from static—sometimes it's an old face, sometimes a new face—but the actions remain fairly consistent.

I think it's clear, from what I infer, that I want a fulfilling relationship, something beyond what I've already had; but my self esteem puts me beneath all that, leading me to believe I cannot possibly achieve that for there is no woman on this Earth willing to put herself in the complimentary position, a position so many seem to have temporarily filled in my mind. Until I know more about the university girl's personality, she will not become a true fixation. To give you an idea of how little I'm running off here, I actually got kind of excited when I heard the word 'Magikarp' come out of her mouth—all because this might mean she likes Pokémon, which means she might like video games, which means we might have something in common beyond our subjects. Slim pickin's, huh—not to mention what a perfect image that is: I practically am Magikarp, splashin' around in a puddle and expecting it to do something other than make a noise :P  In a way, I like this mindset, at least in that it tells me that I want to go off what's on the inside rather than what's on the outside when it comes to true desire for a woman, but it also leaves me with this wayward romantic desire that won't go away.

I really do have to go out and meet people :P

Second to that, of course, come intellectual pursuits: a 'career' (a job'll do just fine, thank you :P) and the development of my mind in terms of culture and booksmarts. Every time I watch a comedy festival, or see some comic on stage in front of a big crowd, and seeing the reaction they get from what they do, I want to be just like them. I want to go in front of rooms full of people and speak my mind like I do here to make people think and to make myself feel like I'm worth something :P  Ever since I experienced the incredible minds of Carlin, Bruce, Hicks (just to name a few), I've wanted to challenge my own mind and that of others on stage just as they did; but once again, cracks in the path quickly form.

First is my great fear of food and travel: two things any performer on the road kinda needs to be fine with :P  Travelling in a car or a train isn't so bad—that I could deal with easy—but boats and planes fuck with me. I get seasick really, really easy; but even if I didn't, the plane is what will take me to different countries (this is 2012 for fuck's sake—why am I going on about boats in the first place :P). When it comes to air travel, both my fear of dying in a plane crash (quite a few of which I've read about recently—thanks, Wikipedia :P) and my discomfort with food (do they serve Doritos on aeroplanes?) both trample the dream. I know that unless I'm in the middle of nowhere in a non-Western nation, there will be a store that sells some bag or box of processed nourishment to keep me somewhat alive... or do I? Surely, if I did know that, I wouldn't be so scared... the level of quality in what my mind classifies as 'knowledge' has done nothing but skyrocketed lately (especially since taking Philosophy :P). Thankfully, I know that I can always think and write no matter where I am, so I take some comfort that I can still get my ideas out there, if only in written form.

The other problem for me has been coming up more and more, not only in watching other comics, but in attending university as well: everything's been said. Every fucking thing, goddamnit! It seems like everyday, I lose an original idea; I might have thought of the idea on my own, but someone else presented it before I did; so even though my idea was of my own conclusions, an audience won't see it that way. What is there to make fun of that hasn't been made fun of? What ground is there that people haven't explored already? What conventions could I challenge? Does anything offend anyone anymore? Does discomfort exist anymore? Or will everyone be perfectly OK with whatever comes out of my mouth? I've said controversial shit before, yeah, but the 'PG-tolerant' world of high school (in what they'd allow anyone to put on stage publicly, anyway) is gone: that was what made stuff I said to those people back then 'controversial' in any sense of the word. I could joke about anything to a pack of uni students and get into no trouble whatsoever, and in recently watching the 2011 Montreal Comedy Festival on TV, politics and social issues were certainly on the agenda (although in a nature far less confronting than that of Carlin, Hicks, etc. :P). I don't want to just say outlandish shit for the sake of attention; I want to provoke thought through the verbal comic instilment of discomfort in what we accept in society. It's not just a matter of saying 'fuck' anymore; it's a matter of stating why we're fucked, how we got fucked, and (perhaps) what we need to do to stop being fucked.

I suppose if I really wanted a challenge, I could always learn Arabic, go to Saudi Arabia to perform, and open with 'Man, what's the deal with fundamentalist Islam? Jeez, it'd be easier for a dog to get a driver's license over here than a woman, 'ey!'

If I truly want to start dabbling in comedy, there's a bar at the uni (named 'The UniBar'... sigh :P) that I could apply to perform at. Looking at their website, there's no 'comedy night' or 'resident comedian' or anything of the sort, so perhaps this'd be something new for them... which is exactly what I fucking want, isn't it? ...why haven't I applied yet... :P  This little opening keeps my comedy dreams alive, and it has done for over a year. I actually originally wanted to go there every week and perform, talking about whatever came to my mind, sometimes testing new bits, sometimes going on improvised rants (a la Williams, Noble or Izzard) about current events and whatnot. I'd love to be someone who could get on stage with nothing in terms of a script and then go on to perform an hour long show, but that takes practice (a lot of practice :P), and I'm just happy to get on stage and perform whenever I can, so it's good to have a place I can do that. My dreams of women, on the other hand, while prevalent, are taken to be ridiculous in nature, because there's nothing concrete there. There's just one girl I have my eye on (out of how many? Selective much? O.O) that I know nothing about—what can my mind do with that? Nothing productive, that's for sure :P

What's really mind boggling, however, is not that I'm thinking this way at the moment, but that I'm still thinking this way after doing so for a year. I wrote an article about a year back describing my self-esteem as a pendulum, swinging back and forth, where thinking of a woman seemed to bring the pendulum down and thinking of comedy (and a somewhat-certain girl interest) brought it back up: this is the exact same thing. The exact same thing. Verbatim. Identical. Different in no way, shape or form! ...how am I still back here!? Surely, I should have learned about this last time and moved on! But no, it's the same old shit, day after day, week after week: the wheels on the bus go round and round, but the bus is still bogged in snow, the same snow it has been for a very long time. Without action, there can be no progress, short of a burst of incredible luck, unreliable at best.

The fact of the matter is: I'm not willing to take risks anymore. I don't want to talk to this girl for fear of embarrassment and rejection; I don't want to ask anyone to let me perform comedy for fear of social contact and disturbing the status quo (in terms of scheduling: you have no idea how much I hate interrupting people—I don't even make phone calls on that basis :P); I don't want to drive a car for fear of a collision; I don't want to drink or consume any party drug for fear of loss of self awareness and control, possible arrest and almost certain bodily harm. I'm simply no longer in favour of putting myself in any position where there's anything substantial to lose anymore... compared to, say, when I was sixteen, telling a room of twenty people the name of the girl I'd liked for two years, or waiting outside the classroom she was in to ask her out; or pulling another girl aside months later to do the same thing, this time successfully, or perhaps kissing her without warning at the lighthouse; or getting on stage alone to tell jokes for the first time; or getting up on assembly without permission to bitch about the fence... what happened? Did the prescription on my balls run out? I mean, I loved the rush I got from doing all those things even though I didn't always get the outcome I wanted, yet I seem to have retracted further into my little shell, unwilling to chase that which I appear to revel in!

It seems that those are my two options: either stay spinning in this little emotional circle, within my shell, waiting for Lady Luck to see me in my self-indulgent peril, for her to be fooled into granting me everything I want; or actually make my own moves, knowing I'm going to fall down, but also knowing that I can get back up. It sounds fucking retarded and cheesy—believe me, I know :P—but that's the way it is. I'm not sure if and when my balls will regrow, but I do believe, rather strongly, that if there's something in my life that I truly want, whether it be to know if some girl is interested in me, or to try and can pull off comic shenanigans like those of my idols—if I truly want something—I'll persevere and go for it eventually. The aforementioned evidence is what leads me to believe this, as procrastinative as it may seem; that's where my faith lies. That said, however... I've almost certainly got shit to do :P

You know what they could do, though? How about reporting on some plane landings, huh? Plane landings: you know, what's supposed to happen when a plane gets to the airport! I think we might think of pilots as a bit more competent if we were actually told that they can do their jobs correctly every once in a while, don't you!?

Tension: Butter Knives Won't Cut It Because It Isn't Tangible

... do they have intangible butter knives? Where could I get one of those from? ...I suppose it doesn't matter whether I have one or not -- the tension is here to stay.

I have since seen my fancy for what is probably the last time. All the commotion is beginning to settle, the feelings are beginning to recede, and I'm beginning to wonder if it's worth doing this again when this is what's going to end up happening each and every time :P  Even the last day heralded signs of this whole thing being somewhat mutual, but the end of the day made it rather clear that the signs were just as I thought them to be: not signs. It's unusual going back and looking at all those little things she did...

"Surely, these things must have meant something!"

Nope.

"So... so all this just... happened?"

Uh-huh.

"Damn..."

The Tuesday began as they all have for the last few weeks: me getting off the train and running like a motherfucker in the hopes of catching up. The train arrived late, so I had to run the entire way; and I did! Slow down? What the fuck for!? I've got shit to do! At this point, the day is playing out like a poorly written, all but clichéd' romantic comedy :P  I ran, and I ran, and I ran... and I ran... and I... ran... and... I... ran... ... ...then I got there... ...to the place the meetings were held... "ah, shit! I've missed her! I must have ran past her again! God dammit!"

I sit down, catching my breath (it's weird how no one asked why I was breathing so heavily), and we all know who shows up five minutes later... from the other fucking direction! I came in from the east side; she came in from the west side! ... why!? I know which train station she gets off at! I walk past it on the way there, and that's the path she usually takes, so what's up with this tricky, ninja-like teleportation shit she's pulling here!? If I'd known, I just would have kept running! I don't give a fuck if I have to double back -- it's more than worth it! And an explanation, you think she'd ask for? I'd have just made one up -- who cares!?

"The main thing is that she's here. Things could be a lot worse, but they aren't, because she's here." They immediately wished her "happy birthday!", which I had to chime in for at the last second because I didn't know (I'm finding it harder each day justifying my decision to not use Facebook -- how else would they have known :P). She greets everyone with a friendly hug; and boy, was I looking forward to mine! She said nothing more than "hello, [name]!" with each hug, except mine (of course, mine just has to be different to make things more confusing), as she added on a "nice jacket!" with my greeting. I suppose it's just one more for the pile of things that can be easily misinterpreted as signs of something meaningful :P

Discussion was fruitful as I waited for the perfect moment to ask for her e-mail/phone number/whatever. "I'll take the first one I get! I don't care if these people figure everything out; I just want those details, dammit!" Unfortunately, she sat quite far from me (at the other end of the table >.< ) so I couldn't speak directly to her, or even move to sit next to her... poor girl didn't even have a seat! She was just kneeling at the table! I wanted to offer her a seat, but where she was, a seat wouldn't fit... she could have had my seat if she wanted! Hell, I'd be her seat :P  Seat or no seat, however, discussion continued; and my non-involvement in the conversation went against me as the subject matter turned to that which is ripe for disagreement: religion. See? I told you he was a motherfucker! I heard the word "evolution" come out of someone's mouth, and off they went.

I don't get it: there was not one person at that table who can prove the existence or non-existence of God, nor one who can explain fully how species have come to be! What the fuck were they arguing for!? No one side was going to sway the other, so what was the point!? We're writers, not scientists! Herp-a-derp indeed :P

After the meeting started, no hard feelings were felt, so all was well... but how was I supposed to talk to her now? She sat across from me, as if to taunt me with that oh-so-beautiful face I'll (probably) never lay eyes upon again, and the last meeting commences. Cake was brought by our mentors, but it had all kinds of things in it that turned me right off -- since when were poppy-seeds in cake!? Seriously! "Luckily" (I use the term lightly :P) my fancy just happened to have with her a box, inside of which was a lone muffin. Upon hearing of my lack of appeal for the cake: "Oh! Would you like this muffin instead?" ... does she even have to ask? Really? "Oh, sure! :D" It's chocolate, so I'm on that motherfucker like it's nobody's business :P  I'd have eaten it in one big mouthful, but, you know... still trying to make an impression here :P

The meeting goes on, and we near the end. We somehow get on to the topic of formatting the scripts, and I'm immediately mentioned because my formatting skills are super-duper-elite, apparently :P  The mentor goes so far as to ask me to explain how I format my scripts, and I do so, with my fancy being the only one to reply, with something along the lines of "really? So you just make a table in Word with two columns, and make the grid invisible? Genius." Genius? Genius!? What the hell was that!? What is she: the Queen of Hyperbole? Little Miss Exaggeration? It doesn't matter how you look at it though -- that was a clear cut compliment right there, man! There's no denying that one; no doubt about it. Unfortunately, it only served to confuse me further :P

Not long after, I was sent out to do an errand. Everyone else was saying their goodbyes, and I was taking one for the team; one I'd have rather not taken. As soon as I arrived back, they took a group photo (I am yet to receive it, and I want it; and we all know why :P), then she just... left! I saw her put on her bag and simply walk out the door! She said goodbye to no one -- not even me -- but she'd probably taken care of that whilst I was out of the room! Ain't fate a bitch :P  I thought all was lost... until someone realised she'd left her container behind! Her friend, however, was far quicker than I was to pick it up and run screaming her name down the hallway in her attempt to get it back to her... I should have snatched the fucking thing out of her hand and pushed her out of the way, but alas, I did not.

And thus ended (rather abruptly) the escapade.

I have since sent the girl an e-mail with the address I acquired months ago, simply asking if we could keep in touch -- I had no chance to ask there, so what the hell, right? Unfortunately, however, she is yet to respond (if ever :P). It could be the fact she doesn't check her e-mail often; it could be the fact she's on a trip and can't check her e-mail; it could be the fact that she doesn't want to talk to me :P Who knows? A few more days and I'll call the quits all together... perhaps :P  As much as I talk about the past, and what could of happened, my friend left me with a rather strong statement:

"It couldn't have happened any other way, because it happened, and you're still here."

Too true... too true...

If there's anything to take from this, it's as follows: do shit while you can still do it. Leave nothing for later, and hesitate no longer on those things you want so badly. You're going to have to take chances, but that's half the fun, so get in there and have some fun! You might have to prepare, and you might have to sacrifice, but it's all worth it in the end :)

Chatty: The Trait That Makes This Shit a Lot Fucking Easier

I'm not well known for getting shit done; I stall, overthink and procrastinate until all hours over those tasks I find daunting. Sometimes, however, time is stretched thin simply because of the situation at hand, and with only 1 more encounter between my fancy and I for me to look forward to, "stretched thin" is quite the understatement. The "make or break" moment draws ever closer, and although much has been made in the name of progress, a lot more needs to be made in the name of "hurry the fuck up!" Expletives aside though, I'm a lot closer than when all this madness started -- no contact details yet, no no no... but conversation? Yes yes yes :P

The first instance almost caught me off guard. It was one if those opportunities you don't see coming, but those are the most fun because you have no idea what's gonna happen; the adrenaline goes off the charts and you're bouncing off the wall. I find it hard to believe I try to avoid doing things that would make me feel this way, even though I love the feeling and sometimes even crave it. I arrived at the meet unable to see anyone else from the group, so I keep walking to see a lone, curvy figure... guess who :P "Where the hell is everyone else- WHO CARES? How come she's the only one here- NOT IMPORTANT! I wonder if anything's happened- STOP THINKING AND SAY HELLO!" When you boil down to it, sometimes being louder does make your point more valid; it does in my head at the very least :P So, off I go, balls to the wall and heartbeat to the max, and that all important celestial introduction makes it's way from my vocabulary to my vocal cords, promptly passing through my dry lips up to her receptors unawares... "...hi!"

Then the real fun starts :P

As the message makes it's way through her brain, there comes that smile one can't quite escape, and the reply is urgently anticipated. "Oh! Good morning!" she said, quick to realise that it was actually 5 in the friggin' afternoon :P -- I'd have pointed it out, but her quick and adorable "Oops! Good afternoon, I meant." relieved me of such pressure. She was using her phone (hopefully not texting her boyfriend! O.O) so I moved along and took a seat. She came up and took a seat nearby, proceeding to talk about the previous week's session. This is the great thing about this girl: she just talks! She talks and talks and talks! This trait might come back to bite me in the arse one day, but for now, it's a fucking Godsend. It's not like she is completely unable to shut up; she just naturally has more to say, irrespective of the subject at hand. There's never an awkward silence -- if I ain't sayin' somethin', she takes care of everything! It may make it hard for me to get a word in, but at this point, anything's better than nothing :P  After 3 to 4 minutes of bliss (felt like 3-4 seconds :P) others started to show, and attention was impossible to hold, but the way that conversation flowed was just... just... :D

The next episode of chit-chat came about through a second strike of lightning I wasn't expecting. In a previous entry, I mentioned walking right past the girl as I was on my way to the meet -- not even someone as mentally inept as me is dumb enough to fuck this up twice :P  Funnily enough, I spotted her from a hundred metres back, out of breath as I ran to try to see if I'd catch up -- and by golly I did! :D -- so I was out of breath, quietly begging myself to "slow down, motherfucker... slow down, motherfucker... slow down... mother... fucker..." It was kinda creepy walking just a tad faster than her, without her noticing me until I was by her side saying "hello!" It was like the sort of thing you'd see in a horror movie... I'd have blown my cover in a fit of laughter had the Jaws theme started playing on my iPod :P  Her reaction I'll never forget: "Oh my gosh! Hey! Oh my gosh!" she spieled as she took her earphones out to speak, as if she thought I'd been there for 30 seconds and was too engrossed in the music to realise; not to mention the fact that she seemed very excited to see me... see why I've been hanging on to this for so long? It's all the little things, and by God do they amount to something after such time :P It was the same situation -- me listening to her talking about the same things for the most part -- but once again, it's better than walking right past her in a puff of smoke :P

This is, however, drawing to a close however you look at it. At some point, I am going to have to get contact details (or use those I already found :P) to get something happening here. With only one more (hypothetically) guaranteed physical encounter, I am up shit creek without a paddle, and I don't know where you buy paddles from in this neighbourhood. What I've discussed here isn't even remotely courageous by any regular standard, so I'm going to have to do something actually ballsy if I want this to go anywhere: I'm either going to have to ask her for her email/number/MSN/Facebook (fuck that shit :P) to her face... or be a sneaky little devil and use the email I already have to slip in there and get a late start, hoping not to fuck with her head in the process :P

... I make this shit way harder than it  needs to be, huh :P