Last time I said I felt like dying.

As you can see now, I'm not exactly toe-tagged and headed for the furnace. Not that I want to be cremated... actually, I don't know. But that's besides the point.

Things have changed.

The cycle of life is a tricky one that I don't care to try to analyze. It's unfortunate enough that I get the urge to try to criticize myself, which is completely useless and often ends in a fetal position on my bed. So, steering from that, and using something clever I like to refer to as a transition-- which, coincidentally, is something I have a real problem with including in essays-- I bet you (the reader, or no one, or someone, or a pedophile, or Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, Hannibal Lecter... you get the idea) can just guess how I react when someone else decides they want to pass judgement.

Especially when they've only really talked to said person 2 times.

Mm. The background information is this: My best friend is now my boyfriend. This does not sound so weird in the detail that my best friend is a guy, no, but in the fact that I've suckered myself into another friend--> boyfriend scenario. Well, not suckered, he's lovely in all the right ways (ahem, and places). Last time I dated my good ole buddy (not the same boy), it ended in the loss of virginity and a very pissed off mother. But that's completely alright, she's crazy, and not in the good kind of "Let's take your anti-depressants now, honey," way. Think the whole "fire and brimstone" bible thumping "HONK IF YOU LOVE JESUS and his views on premarital sex," type of crazy.

Back on topic. The now-boyfriend is a dream, that is the positive. Another positive is that I can tell my English 120 instructor that she can kiss my biracial ass and that's all I have to say, "Thank you, come again!"

That wasn't really back on topic, that last thing about the English.

Moving on.

The issue is with 'ze madre' of now-boyfriend. Fucking deija vu on a massive scale to me when I asked about the comment she made when I stayed over a week or two ago.

"They were practically having sex on the couch."

....

For the public's information, I was, in fact, caught on a couch the time I lost my virginity. I'll be DAMNED if I will be participating in coitus on that particular furniture ever again. Futhermore, I OBJECT!

This is damaging to my personal integrity and is libel towards my character in general. Why? Because she told now-boyfriend's stepmother as well, in those exact words. And in the near future, I am expected to be attending dinner with their family (now-b/f's dad, step-mom, and possibly the chill'uns). I'm like a horse shot in the ass with a tranq before I even get out of the gate. My reputation was damaged without even having done anything wrong.

And why hasn't this come up previously? He's only stayed over at my house too many times to count. I stay over once and I might as well have had "strumpet" stamped on my forehead.

This put a damper on my day yesterday, but now-boyfriend is too sweet to let me sulk and not tell him what's wrong. He tried to explain that his mother was a hard person to read, which to me sent red lights flashing, "STAY AWAY FROM THE RESIDENCE! Or at least from the couch."

I'm a dorky individual, I'm smart, I'm pretty tolerant of whatever someone's into (granted that it doesn't hurt my friends or me), but come on. Am I not worthy of having any benefit of the doubt concerning the situation? He was only my best friend for over a year and now since we're intimate I got the whore stamp.

This blows. I don't blow, this situation blows.

At this point, going over there is not a possibility, staying over there is a "hell no!" and, well, I don't know. Being around his mum is going to make me anxious now because I think she's going to pass judgement mighty quickly, and not in a positive light. It's unfortunate.

As to whether I am that far in the relationship with now-boyfriend... we keep the doors locked, lights out, and our mouths shut, but the bed's got a squeakin' problem every once and awhile. So, to Mama of now-boyfriend....

Nothing happened on the couch, nothing will ever happen on a couch involving coitus. But your boy just put it down last night like there was no tomorrow. :D

I really feel like dying...

Hm.

I bet this does murder to your insides. Advil shuts my head up, though, so it's bearable.

Haha.

This is just really funny to me, I guess. New job, have to get a work permit. I'm going to like it there, but I'd still rather work at a comic book store. God, would I have so much to talk about there. Video games... not so much. Or CDs, music, and the like.

Music I'm just a crazy person about. I can't get enough of it, to tell you the truth. I'm listening to it right now. I'll probably be deaf at an early age... Now I'm just rambling. All the caffiene!

It's amazing... really. To focus, or rather, have the lack of focus, to deal with things. You're just too fuckin' hyper to care! Yes! Yesterday was even better. I was so completely gone... I need to get out of the house.

Haha.

Rocking back and forth is associated with being just a little bit out there, neh? It's just a little nervous energy! I don't know why people just can't be more accepting. I need to go running in circles, or dance like an epileptic.

Haha.

I fucking hate people so damned much. Just so damned much, and I can relate to a computer screen better than an actual human. I'm going to go with the thought that that's probably... bad. Caffiene and a lot of bullshit talking is what's keeping me from just out and out locking myself away. What's worse is not knowing what the fuck I want. I really have no clue.

Do I want to be doing things with this guy I rarely see, do I want a relationship with someone so emotionally unstable? I've never been so damned confused about a person. Do I like him or just need to get laid? Thinking about sex like that sounds so degrading. My stomach has this nauseous thing that it's doing again... it's become comforting to feel sick. I don't tell people about these things, or anything else. I act like most things are fine. I stay quiet.

I kiss when I'm kissed, touch when I'm touched, recoil at each and every person when they joke with me. It's not that I feel better than everyone else, I'm not perfect, I'm not high and mighty with the intelligence of a damned scholar at the age of 17. No. It's not that. It's something I can't put my finger on. I'm not bipolar, I'm not fucked in the head. Sickness in the mind seems almost non-existant now. I just feel.... automatic. They're only reflexes and habits; adaptation.

God I hate self-analyzation.

Political here, I'm sort of tired of reading the "I'm leaving because Bush is a douchebag and I don't like the government."

And it's not because Bush isn't a douche, or that the government is going downhill. It's because these people have no idea how any governments run things. Twenty bucks is they've only been there for a few weeks as a tourist. It's not great here, but what else do you know? And what if you're sadly mistaken in the belief that a country is the supposed Utopia you wanted to be in? It's going to be a rude awakening, right?

Another thing. The election for a new President is in 2008. Most people talking are still in high school. The dude is going to be gone by the time you're out of high school, or in the middle of college. So, that's another knock off of your reasoning. God, get a clue.

Here's the fun part, I'm planning on possibly moving to Japan soon. I'm aware that they've problems towards outsiders and also against women. It will be a big challenge for me when I go to study abroad there. But I'm not going into this to be blindsided. I'm not leaving because I hate Bush, his ass will be long gone before I actually finish my General Ed, I think. So, when other people are sitting there whining, I'm shaking my head in disappointment in the lack of logic that has somehow swept up our youth.

Lesson of Today: Don't be Stupid.

I want to talk... but I just don't have the nerve anymore. I'm really behind, and all it's gotten me is-

Annoyed. With myself mainly, and everything else. Does it really take so little to set me off like this?

Sad. And I can't figure out why. I just feel that way, and I feel like crying, and it still hasn't hit me, that reason why I'm just- ugh.

Oh well. There's tomorrow, where I'll be even more anti-social than I normally am. Maybe I'll get a second personality so I can be like Gollum. I'd be more creative.

So please spare me the 'I don't want to deal with it' speech. Refrain from telling me that I don't want to deal with your problems. Let's think this through a little better, you're a moron. I don't want to fucking deal with my friends personal issues with her boyfriend and it's my fault that you don't want to talk to me about what is going on?

And your manipulation tactics are lacking, and you can't keep sercrets worth a damn. I wonder sometimes why I even bother with shit like you. With people who think that the world revolves around them and that they know all. They believe they're in control. Let's see how in control someone can be when she's with an older guy, and yes it does matter in this case. You don't fucking magically let yourself change. You don't get all bitchy or alienate someone behind their back. And that was a bad move in itself, genius I'm in the same damn room.

Let's get something straight. I have my own problems. Oh, wait, of course, right. I'm not supposed to am I? I'm supposed to cater to your needs, to other's needs, when I'm barely acknoledging that things I care about are hanging in the balance. If I ignore what's happening any longer I might lose two things more precious to me than life itself. Fucking bullshit, like you, like your insipid little pedophiliac boyfriend, are shit on my list. And if you're not wanting to tell me anything, don't blame it on my not caring. I fucking listen to you all the damn time, I let you in my house. I give you advice when you seem lost and then when I get treated unfairly it comes back to me like this: not in a well-spoken conversation, but on someone else's AIM convo when I'm staying at their house. What kind of shitless little twat do you have to be?

And all over a boy. A testosterone-filled Young Adult that cares nothing about how a girl would feel around her first boyfriend. That everyone knows what's going to happen, but you're blindsided by your romanticized reality that is the equivalent of a relationship Utopia.

How fucking deluded do you have to be?