Ha!

It’s funny how I thought my walls were up, and my moats were full of alligators. It appears that I had built a wall of pillows and my “alligators” were stuffed teddy bears. I’m starting to wonder if I should stop trying to force my walls up and down, and let them go where they will.

I really, really wish I had gotten a lot of this angsty shit out of my system as a teenager so I could be a little bit more used to it now.

Trust

The list of people that I trust appears to be much larger than I thought. It’s actually larger than I ever thought a list like that would be for me.

Fascinating, that.

Survey says…

Wall: Up

Moat: Filled with alligators

Best for everyone involved, really.

… walls up, walls down, walls up, walls down…

Walls. Up, down, somewhere in the middle. Who knows? What a difference a week makes…

We now return you to your regularly scheduled madness.

Am I… changing? (cont’d)

Uhh… yes. Yes, I am.

I don’t know what I was worried about losing, but I don’t appear to have lost anything yet. I think I’ll go with this a while longer and see how it goes for me.

Am I… changing?

I might be changing. I might be getting a little bit better than I was before.

I looked back at where I used to be (Insane Ranting, for all two of you who have read it) and it seems like I’m slowly moving away from where I was there. I’m… out more. I’m interested in stuff. I’m interested in people (read: a girl, of course).

I’m not quite sure what to make of the person that I’m trying to be. Part of me wants to be this new person. The rest of me… I don’t know. I don’t know about this yet.

Perception, Meet Reality

The sooner the two of you get to know each other, the happier everyone will be.

/end transmission

One of those things I just noticed…

Have you ever noticed how, whenever someone is talking about emo, Linkin Park’s “Crawling” is always the song that comes up?

There’s plenty of other songs of theirs that could work, but it always seems to be Crawling.

… yeah.

Baffled.

I still don’t get me. I’m apparently good looking and funny. People like me. I seem to be charming; maybe even charismatic. And I have absolutely no belief in any of it.

Even when faced with ridiculous, blatantly obvious proof of the above, I still can’t believe it. I keep pulling back, thinking there has to be some sort of catch, there has to be something wrong if you’re showing this much interest in me, or talking at me, or laughing at my jokes, etc.

It must be nice to, you know, not be so broken. I imagine there’s a lot less of this pseudo-teen-angst bullshit if you’re willing to trust the evidence of shit that’s repeatedly thrust into your face.

It’s mildly frustrating. And by mildly frustrating, I mean I want to break things when I think about how stupid this is. I’d be a much happier camper if I could just accept the person that everyone else seems to see when they see me, instead of the dumbass that’s lurking in my head.

But whatever. This is all emo, woe is me, /cut bullshit anyway. I’m pretty sure I posted something like this a while back. I’m going to sleep. It’s too late/early for this.

I am legitimately broken.

Even by the relaxed standards that I have when it comes to my (relative) sanity, the depths of my fuckedupedness has become apparent to me again. You know, not being faced with my crazy all the time, I sometimes forget the extent of it. Well tonight was an excellent reminder.

I know I always talk about how interesting crazy people are, but right now… I’d trade some of my interesting for boring without a second thought.

Fuck.