imwithjonas's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bring on the Rain Bring on the RainThat sounds a little too Jo Dee Messina for comfort, but it fits right now. It's fucking hot and humid and it needs to just damn rain already. Life has been an interesting experience lately. I've been to two weddings in the last two weeks. They were both surprisingly pleasant. I even looked nice at both of them. Woo for me. Summers tend to get me down. I always somehow manage to lose contact with all my friends and most of the stabilizing factors in my life. This one is by no means different, but I imagine I'll survive. Summers make me feel hopeless more than anything else. I feel like nothing is going to happen, ever. School will never start again. I'll never get a job. I'll never meet any new people. I'm sure none of that is true, but it's how I feel. I need something to do, and I don't have anything. So I spend all my time kind of half moping. And I have fucking crazy dreams. Or at least that's what I've done this summer. It's never really happened this way before. Normally, I just can't sleep. I'll develop extreme insomnia. It sucks. But this time around I seem to be trying to totally freak myself out in my sleep. Seriously, this is like Clive Barker, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and my sex life combined. You might wonder how Buffy fits into all that. At one point the dreams kind of took on a vaguely Angel and Buffy plot line. Basically, if Angel and Buffy have sex, Angel loses his soul due to an ancient Gypsy curse. A single moment of pure happiness is all it takes. There was something of that nature applied to RS in my crazy fucking dreams, except sex with me didn't matter. Angel can have sex with people he doesn't care about. Then it might be pleasure, but it's not happiness. Can you see how that's mildly disturbing in a dream? Nice of my sub conscious to put things so bluntly. Of course, not all of the dreams involve RS. Other than that sex with me doesn't make him happy one, most of the really creepy ones have been about various other people. They've all got a little sex thrown in somewhere, though. That's made for some odd combinations. I distinctly get the impression there was even some action between me and Xavier at some point. That truly just borders on incest. Like I said, creepy. So it occurs to me that maybe sex would get some of this crazy shit out of my system. But, in a very hopeless summer kind of way, I am utterly without propects. I don't know anyone here that's even vaguely approachable, and apparently even my slightest of hopes in the vicinity of University Town has dried up. Stupid attractive musician type all dating some chick with a son and (ex?)husband. Sigh. And what is with the damn musicians? Am I only capable of being physically attracted to people involved in music? Hell. That kind of narrows the field a little. Meanwhile, the only man who's ever been at all physically attracted to me has a new girl (or two) each week. What the hell? How can I do that? I mean, not with girls, because I'm all about some dick and not in the plastics department, but c'mon. What am I doing wrong? How in God's name do you meet people, have them follow you to your house, and then have some varying degree of threesome with them in the space of hours? I don't think I really want to have a threesome, but do you see what I'm getting at here? I just don't understand the concept of picking a guy up. I just don't see it. Someone has to explain this to me sometime. For now, I'll just stick with writing angsty juvenile crap on the internet. And having dreams worthy of either horror novels or hardcore porn. I just hope it rains soon. 12:02 a.m. - May 31, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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