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Okay, so now I'm *really* miserable.
The person I consider one of my best friends has had his previously unmetered Internet access cut off. This means I don't even know when he'll next be able to pick up his email; after being with him IRL for almost a week, and having talked with him over talkers for ages now, email seems painfully slow and unreliable.
Another main candidate for the title 'best friend' keeps giving out mixed signals, and I can tell we're drifting apart; but sometimes it seems they really want to continue being just as good friends as before, and sometimes it seems they just wish I'd go away and quit hanging around them and being 'boring'. It's worse not to know than even if they just decided they didn't like me; at least then I could go away and not feel like I'm just a nuisence and an annoyance all the time.
This is, all in all, not helping me write. I'm sure I could throw impressive amounts of highly depressing poetry onto paper if I gave it the effort, but I already have a pretty impressive collection of that, and plenty of people before me have written better on the same subject. As soon as I sit down to write, thoughts trigger memories and memories trigger thoughts, and I just end up sitting staring at the page for ages. Maybe I'll just go play something, but I won't be able to concentrate on that either 'cos I'll be thinking I should be doing 'something productive', whatever *that* means.
The person I consider one of my best friends has had his previously unmetered Internet access cut off. This means I don't even know when he'll next be able to pick up his email; after being with him IRL for almost a week, and having talked with him over talkers for ages now, email seems painfully slow and unreliable.
Another main candidate for the title 'best friend' keeps giving out mixed signals, and I can tell we're drifting apart; but sometimes it seems they really want to continue being just as good friends as before, and sometimes it seems they just wish I'd go away and quit hanging around them and being 'boring'. It's worse not to know than even if they just decided they didn't like me; at least then I could go away and not feel like I'm just a nuisence and an annoyance all the time.
This is, all in all, not helping me write. I'm sure I could throw impressive amounts of highly depressing poetry onto paper if I gave it the effort, but I already have a pretty impressive collection of that, and plenty of people before me have written better on the same subject. As soon as I sit down to write, thoughts trigger memories and memories trigger thoughts, and I just end up sitting staring at the page for ages. Maybe I'll just go play something, but I won't be able to concentrate on that either 'cos I'll be thinking I should be doing 'something productive', whatever *that* means.
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hug
Date: 2001-02-28 07:29 am (UTC)From:Aw, huggles
Date: 2001-03-03 01:48 pm (UTC)From: (Anonymous)you're never boring, dull maybe, not boring.
M.A.S.