| A tad alienated... |
[22 Oct 2003|01:39pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
self-analytical |
] |
I've been invited to a party. Two parties hosted by the same verbal Vikings that happen to be The Cherub's friends. I hate parties. Parties are most certainly havens for the intellectually dim. Activities described to be occurring in this party are, "smoking, drinking, pot and people making asses of themselves". I don't speak loudly unless I have to. I am not going. I refuse to dumben myself and I doubt hiding out w/their two cats for the entire evening will be socially acceptable. Why would he even think of asking me. He doesn't know me at all; this irritates me the most.
Here's where I feel a bit sorry for myself, but I figure I'm entitled. I shall begin another bout of trying to find some people like me I can enjoy some time with. It's a tough thing to do, but I know myself... I know myself to feel like meeting people should be effortless and accidental. It isn't. It isn't effortless and it isn't happening. I vow to not allow myself to label this desperate in any way.
Oh, but why can't I fit in better? I meet maybe 1 person in 6 months I even feel a slight connection with. Bah. It stinks. I find the smelliest aspect of this phenomenon, is the one-sided response I get. They think I'm great, I think them cold oatmeal.
I find this isn't a huge issue most of the time. I don't get lonely very much, I prefer my own company, I have bland hobbies that satisfy my own interests...
I'll put it on my "To Do" list.
Parties are for the birds though. I honestly can't ever see myself worked up about one.
|
|