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late-night rambling.
Experiences are important to me.
Maybe I'm losing my head because of being subjected to one intense week of grading and judging and unimportant questions and memorized facts and wasted time.
I like throwing myself into situations for the experience and feelings and sensations that I'll get out of it, but it's hard to take the bad with the good.

I still feel numb, but in a different way than before. Knowing that I've hurt people hurts me. I'd rather not exist than cause pain, but I know that pain is an unavoidable and necessary part of life... if it weren't for the sting of it, we wouldn't know the possibilities of love.

I've always prided myself on being as truthful as I can be, especially when it really matters. Not that honesty isn't always important, but brutal, stripped down honesty is especially imperative in certain situations.

I find it hardest to be honest with myself. With everything else, I rarely judge; I see what's in front of me and take it, understanding its constants and variables, that it is what it is and I'll never fully know it but can take what I see.

I'm pro at lying to myself, as much as I hate to say it. I know what's really best for me, but constantly rationalize and hope for other things, other distractions and petty possibilities. Ergo, I want to be alone.

One reason being my fear of relationships, of people who want to keep me. I'm a walking contradiction, because I fucking LOVE people! I love knowing them and learning about them, seeing them smile and finding what makes them happy. However, romance is different... I can find the beauty in any man and desperately want to get to know him and want him to get to know me, but as soon as the interest is returned, I run. It's happened so many times that there's no denying the pattern, and it's confusing.

Half of me wants to be close to someone, all over them and everywhere, knowing everything about them , feeling every touch, the softness of skin, hot breath and secrets, whispered words of rare truths and warm nights spent close. The other half wants to run, run, run, and push. Push out and away, free from any obligation and commitment and weight and chain of having to answer to someone.

Free bird!
"What's her story?" he asked.
"She's a free bird," my friend told them.
"But what does she want? Does she want a boyfriend, does she want..."
"I don't know, man. All I know is she's a free bird," she laughed, keeping it vague and light, not wanting to accidentally give away more than I wanted her to, and they all laughed again at the silly term I'd used to describe myself and any other solo friends we had.

I used to love this title. And I still do. It's so important to think for yourself in life and not feel beholden to the group... the Love and Belonging stage of Maslow's hierarchy. However, it's an entirely different animal when it arises out of fear. It's not freedom at all; you are a slave to your fear.

Would I want to be with someone like me? No. What a pain in the ass. I hate being confused, but I can't expect anything else in return if I'm not a direct, straight line myself.

Why else do I want to be alone? To concentrate on learning more about what interests me, to think clearly and without distractions about how I can most wisely spend my time on this earth. To find the best places to put my energy.


I'm brain-dead, lost, and tired. More on this later.