imwithjonas's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sociological SociologicalI get caught up in my own little thoughts a lot during classes. I honestly pay so little attention to my professors that it's just sad. Anyway, most of this was written during sociology today. I didn't quite finish it, so I'll just add on here. But just so you understand what was done when (for absolutely no reason that I can think of), I'll put all the class material in handy quotation marks. "Oh, how I love my red pen. I'll be sad when it dies. I find myself in the midst of a moral quandary. Summer is approaching. I could simply give up and go home. It won't hurt too much. It'll be practically painless really. But I'm hesitant. If I could just find a damn job, I could actually have a place to live again. It's killing me. I could have a roommate so cheaply. Gah! I'm so ridamndiculously broke. I miss my phone so much. Oh, sweet, beloved phone. I haven't spoken to Xavier in days. That's simply too long. I'm accustomed to talking to him two to three times daily. Not doing that is strange and borders on painful. Speaking of painful, I think my foot is broken. I dropped my bookbag (filled with laptoppy goodness) on it yesterday. It fucking hurts. It's also vaguely bruised and slightly swollen. Ow. Poking it is also painful. I have a new goal. I want to actually be with someone. I've kind of done things backwards. Most people have some manner of boy/girl friend before they have sex. I never looked at sex as the pinnacle of involvement though. I could almost look at sex as working my way up to a relationship. Or I could just be trying to justify my actions. But I have a goal. I really intend to try this whole deep, meaningful attachment thing. So far I've had depth (bad sexual innuendo) but not so much meaning. At least any meaning involved has been pretty one-sided. I think. At the very least I can honestly say that I've yet to regret anything I've done, so that's good. I just want something different. From what I hear, it probably won't constitute "better." Just different. And now, for my own sake, I'm going to write a bunch of stuff out, AGAIN. Writing things out is about the only way I can make myself believe them sometimes, so forgive me. RS (RockStar/Josh/JW for those of you not paying attention) doesn't hate me or anything like that. He has no reason to. Likewise, he doesn't love me. Again, he doesn't really have a reason to. Really. He doesn't. Now, at this point a number of voices start screaming rather chaotically in my head. Yes, I've done tons of things for him on an entirely voluntary basis. But that's just it. ENTIRELY. VOLUNTARY. He never asked anything of me. (Well, that's not anything like true, but we really don't need to go into things he has asked for.)" END OF SOCIOLOGY But to continue, I just did all that myself. I took it upon myself to right all the wrongs of woman kind, made a mess of it, and had no business trying in the first place. Give me a break. I'm 20, utterly naive in some ways, and totally inexperienced in the realm of dealing with men. The point is, I got attached to someone who doesn't exist. Granted, I'm quite attached to RS himself, though he'll never believe it. That's his problem. He thinks people shouldn't like him. Utterly beside the point. I created my own happy ideal and came damn close to falling head over stupid, stupid heels in love with it. The ideal is fictional. The ideal was also quite attached to me. Reality is a little different. I don't know exactly why I'm bringing all this up again. Mostly it's because I have to remind myself not to get attached. As I said recently in one of these damn diaries, you shouldn't get attached to someone just because he's fucking you, no matter how good a job he does. Also, as I've quoted before, "I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it." I'm clingy and emotional and a lot of the things that a stereotypical "girl" is. But I'm also smart and kind of a bitch. When all is said and done, there's absolutely no reason that I can't just enjoy the damn sex, enjoy the conversation, and not convince myself that he will ever want any more than that with me. End of story. So that's what I'm doing. Or what I would be doing if I had about $10. Gas is enough to make me want to jump off a bridge. I have a friend of the orange persuasion who is determined to call RS my boyfriend. He does it all the damn time. I shudder every time he says it. I shudder because I know that no matter what I could be willing to say, certain other parties would never be happy about that. I used to think that I would always count RS as my first boyfriend, simply based on the fact that we "saw each other" (read: fucked) on and off for several months. On second thought, I don't think I will. But hell, every word that I've just written could change in the next 15 minutes. I've written a lot of things in here that have changed over time. It's just nice to keep track of how I felt for a few fleeting moments. 12:10 p.m. - April 20, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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