Little rip-ed weasel's Journal
11 most recent posts

Date:2004-09-19 13:29
Subject:
Security:Public

Fuck me freddy for repitition, I don't care.

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Date:2004-09-19 13:23
Subject:I feel stupid and immature
Security:Public

I've tried to cultivate this persona of childishness and immaturity for years now. It worked so well that I even think that my angers and frustrations are pointlessly angsty. Ah well.. at least it worked, that much can be said. The last post still stands, though I feel stupid talking about this via a web journal. But it is the easiest way to let you all know what's been set afire in my head. Plus, it lets me live out my little uncaring, laughing, joking delusion with the rest of you, and keep my problems to myself. I'll not forgive myself for this, and this is by nothing more than choice of my own.

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Date:2004-09-19 13:23
Subject:I feel stupid and immature
Security:Public

I've tried to cultivate this persona of childishness and immaturity for years now. It worked so well that I even think that my angers and frustrations are pointlessly angsty. Ah well.. at least it worked, that much can be said. The last post still stands, though I feel stupid talking about this via a web journal. But it is the easiest way to let you all know what's been set afire in my head. Plus, it lets me live out my little uncaring, laughing, joking delusion with the rest of you, and keep my problems to myself. I'll not forgive myself for this, and this is by nothing more than choice of my own.

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Date:2004-09-19 13:23
Subject:I feel stupid and immature
Security:Public

I've tried to cultivate this persona of childishness and immaturity for years now. It worked so well that I even think that my angers and frustrations are pointlessly angsty. Ah well.. at least it worked, that much can be said. The last post still stands, though I feel stupid talking about this via a web journal. But it is the easiest way to let you all know what's been set afire in my head. Plus, it lets me live out my little uncaring, laughing, joking delusion with the rest of you, and keep my problems to myself. I'll not forgive myself for this, and this is by nothing more than choice of my own.

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Date:2004-09-19 13:19
Subject:I feel like my head is on the inside burning.
Security:Public

If anyone wants to find out about this latest bout, go ahead and call me. If you don't have my number, or can't get it, you probably shouldn't be asking. Kitty, don't be concerned. For god's sake, don't be concerned.

I need a confessional.

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Date:2004-08-30 17:02
Subject:Furious
Security:Public

I'm furious and not likely to tell anyone why.

..........

That really doesn't sound too terribly nice of me, does it? But at the moment, I'm in a bit of a snitty mood, and the reason would only make me sound more childish than I already am.

...................

Still not telling, so sorry.

..........................

I just feel kind of dejected, okay?

.................................

Furious, too.

...........................................

You're no closer to eliciting the reason for my angsty teen... foolishness..

....................................................

Dammit...

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Date:2004-07-10 10:09
Subject:WH-WH-WHYYY?!?!?
Security:Public

I sense more girl trouble in the near future.. *broods darkly*

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Date:2004-06-24 23:53
Subject:I'm using my journal!
Security:Public

whee!!!
*ten minutes elapse*
Whee...
*an addition ten minutes of my life, burned and gone*
whe..
*ten minutes el- a shit I'm bored*
w.

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Date:2004-03-01 17:53
Subject:He he he.. shall we jaw a bit?
Security:Public

Alright, this has now become a full-fledged ranting ground and, to be honest, I feel rather good about it. Here's the long and short of it all.. events are numbered the way they happened:
#1.) I realized that I had some form of feelings for a friend of mine named Julia. Her little sister attends the Governor's school, and they both fit in well with the little clan of friends I have. Somewhere over the course of the last year, I realized what a good person she was, and wanted to A: Become close friends :or: B: Become closer than friends. Two things, no, waitaminute, three barred the second option. One, she believes that her Guardian Angel, Sephiroth, is the one that she is set on spending the rest of eternity with. Okay, that could be worked around, seeing as how, well, someone who truly loves you would want you to be happy, even if that happiness is forged in the heart of someone else. So that could be worked around. Second, though, she believes that she is a horrible person, and that no one in his or her right mind should even desire to be around her, let alone have any feeling of friendship.. Oversimplified as that is, she, therefore, didn't think me sincere when I offered myself entirely to her..

Laugh if you want..

You're still laughing...

Okay, it really isn't that funny...

SHUT IT, NOW!! I was being sincere, though.. even if I had had to give her up to Sephiroth, I would've still wanted to spend all my time with her.. notice the specific use of the past tense here..

Keep that in mind as you read..

Third issue, and perhaps one of the most spanning... we are as different as freaking night and day, void and fullfillment, whatever set of dialectical opposites you chose to describe them.. I'm lighthearted, she broods, I devote my time to eliciting laughter, she plots ways to harm the minds of the innocent.. she's a goth, self described, and has me constantly on edge with her internal battle between her own strength and a desire to commit suicide and be with God and Sephiroth.. I still don't know whether she sees suicide as an act of commitment and time spanning strength or as an act of human weakness.. I, on the other side of the balance, think of life as a gift, and, even if it isn't, its all we know we have.. cases in point abound. Now, as another act of human weakness, self described, she admits to being lonely.. as all people are wont to do..

I make my offer...

She accepts..

We hold hands once or twice, nothing binding, go to Katsucon, a really, really fun anime convention with all sorts of things that describing would sidetrack me.. nothing binding.. keep that in mind... annnnnnndddd.... SCENE!

#2.) The other shoe drops.. I get an IM from Sammie, our other resident authoress, and it says, I quote, "Has Julia talked to you yet?" Oh hell, I think.. O blinking hell and double damn monkey fuck.. which is about the long and short of it.. nothing will ever work between us... Fine, I can accept that without a problem... I was only holding hands with you out of tolerance... Okay... but why didn't you speak up? Oh, to preserve your feelings... that works, but I would've preferred knowing at the time... and.... that's it.

#3.) New IM to Sammie.. "What exactly did Julia tell you about Katsucon?" I query... everything tallies with what she told me except one little point, and this I'll clarify once and forever to all reading...

I NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER PULL ANYTHING WITH ANY GIRL WITHOUT CHECKING FIRST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That said, she told Sammie that I was physically stopped from putting my arm around her on the ride down to Katsucon... Every three to four minutes, out of a sheer desire to A:) Not offend Julia by any sudden movement, or percieved sudden movement, and, simultaneously B:) Keep my testicles in their accustomed positions outside of my body, I would ask Julia whether or not she was comfortable with us holding hands.. she said she was.. seems a far cry from tolerance, but, there is margin for liberal interpretation.. Albeit, I did put my arm around her at one point, but she stiffened a little, and I don't think she even knew I noticed. But Julia is not a touchy feely person at all, even in a platonic sense, so I asked her if she was comfortable with said reaching of my arm.. She said she was perfectly alright, but she sounded strained, so I withdrew.. No biggie, folks, none at all... Hey, I mean, I'm already considering myself a hugely lucky guy, and I was...

So why did she tell Sammie that she forced me off of her, in so many words?

Why would she bend the truth...

No, scratch that...

....Why would she lie?

This is the same, noble sort of girl that I have, indeed, fought to rather close draws in hand to hand fights... staged, notwithstanding, but she has her heart in the right place, and I can see that... But read on, folks, read on...

#4.) Time passes...

#5.) I begin dating Laurel, Julia's sister, and things are going well...

#6.) Julia actually expresses an Interest in someone, and, lo and behold, I'm torn.. I'm supremely happy with Laurel, let there be no question ever, and I'm happy that Julia has finally found someone she can "relate to on multiple plains." But, you know, it resurrects that initial disappointment, and I'd be lying for sure to say that I'd risen above that human emotion. I'm happy for her and him, a great guy named Vince that I met for the first down in Katuscon.. which seems to slowly be becoming the nexus of my known social universe.. Vince is twentythree, witty, great sense of humor, apparently intelligent just from the smidge of conversation I had with the man, and he seemed like an okay Joe.. I prayed he wouldn't hurt her, that he'd keep her happy.. after all, that was the whole reason I asked Julia out in the first place.. to try to make her happy in a way through she's been alone all her life..

#7.) The Interest doesn't pan out... Vince is twenty three, Julia just turned sixteen and is a self professed menace to all drivers.. Vince lives in maryland, Julia, virginia.. Vince is dating someone.. Prayers of mine turn to crematory ash, but no matter.. Julia is strong, she's committed, she'll get through this.. she's level headed enough to realize that things at this age tend to balloon to more than they are truly worth, and that you need to deflate them to stay sane...

#8.) As with all the times I try to judge human character, I failed.. Miserably.. She begins believing again that there is noone for her in this world, and that no one would ever like someone like her.. She wants to take the easy way out, nothing can dissuade her that it would be best for herself and for others, but there is one thing that bars her passage with irresolute assuredness: her belief that neither God nor Sephiroth have any place in their collective hearts for her..

#9.) We reach my pleasant Sunday of bagging leaves to pay of parental debt for the Katsucon entry fee..

#10) I reach the conclusion that everything is falling in toward Katsucon.

#11.) I simultaneously reach the conclusion that Julia is full of incorrect bullshit about herself..

#12.) I turn myself over to a more painful task than raking leaves: trying to reaffirm the fact in Julia's mind that her friends love her, that people do care for her, that God and Sephiroth and Bobo the CLown and WHATEVER THE FLYING FUCK OTHER GOD'S MIGHT BE FLITTING AROUND UP THERE LOVE HER TOO!

As you can see this was frustrating...

She thought I was insincere in wanting to love her, given the chance....

The bullshit slinging rages on, and Julia leaves the chat room that is the home of the bullshit slingers with two impressions in her mind.. A.) That no one loves her and I was totally lying about my feelings toward her, the her being her self described "heartless bitch nature".. and B.) That I was dating Laurel only as a means of getting over her...

#13.) She tells little number B to Laurel...

#14.) Laurel thinks that I like Julia more than her...

#15.) I tell her I don't like Julia more than her...

#16.) Laurel is confused, now, and, combined with the pressures to school and other things, this makes her question the merit in living on..

#17.) I am slowly but steadily losing my fucking mind...

There.. out on paper... err... chat screen thingy whatever-the-fuck.. All of it... all true...


Now let me beat myself with a Raggedy Anne doll in piece...

If this doesn't send I'm gonna be pissed...

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Date:2004-02-05 00:10
Subject:
Security:Public
Mood: drained
Music:The Echoing Green- The Face of God

Let me get one thing straight with you all before venting myself to the ether: I am not, nor ever will be, a Romeo, a Cassanova, a lover boy beyond belief. I have only had two girlfriends during the course of high school. On these two occasions when I did ask a girl out, it was done in a quiet way. I don't subscribe to the trial and error theory that says that the more girls you ask out, the more will date you and the more you date, the better your chances. I like to think I have a desire for an enduring relationship whenever I embark upon dating. Now, with that clear, and the waters crystal, here is the odd behavior.
I am one of those people who's parents bullied them, well sorta, into skipping a grade out of intelligence, realized by the time he got there that he was: A:) Wayy to small to survive : and : B:) Socially underdeveloped. Thus, in eighth grade I got the massive crash course- philosophy- style teachings that leave me where I am today: repeated teasing, shoving in the locker room, shoving in the halls, shoving into lockers, getting into a fist fight or two, being derided as either too intelligent or too lacking in testicular volume to have many close friends. I'll simplify and skip ahead: One kid in particular delighted in seeing me smacking of shame and rage and impotence. His name was Alexander Hess, and though he will probably grow up one of these days, if he hasn't already, I beseech God to curse the ground he treads upon and force it grow black and redolent of thorns. He ran the gambit from callin me petty names to insulting me in front of the entire gym class on numerous occasion to punchin me rabbit-armed in the gut to jawing me on one occasion. Thank the dear lord he left the county before I got up sufficient nerve to deal with him, in full. On the last day he was in school with me, I split, and laid him out on the locker room floor, him struck twice in the stomach and once in the face. He hit the locker behind him when I uppercut him. Suffice to say it cleared my consciousness and let me procede with life. Much of the power he had held over me was gone by the end of eighth grade, but he maintained a presence up until the final day of school during ninth grade. I hope to God I see him again. Sometime, better sooner than later. I'll forgive him if I don't.
I figured out two ways to deal with daily serving-up of abuse, which followed me in part because of my intelligence, partially my way of speaking and attitude. When I was in sixth grade, I'll hesitate not to say it, I was a full-fledged nerdlet, for all my good points. I spoke in an inflected, affected, condescending tone of voice, and I guess I was condescending at that. I interjected the definitions of words in place of the words themselves every so often, to try to put myself on a pedestal with my peers. It worked, sort of. I had high regard in the eyes of peers and teachers, but no friends as such. No name calling, either, seeing as how I was among people my age, height, weight, and overall fighting prowress. Which was very little. If anyone took offense at the way I acted or the grades I got, I could've decked 'em, more than likely. Not true in the eighth grade. In case you haven't figured it out, the grade I skipped was seventh, God bless it. So the first order of business was to loosen up my tongue a little. Drop the definitions and inject some words for once. Spice things up with some humor, find out where the human funny bone is and tickle it every chance you get. Then, second defense, adopt an obsession other than knowledge. I took the opposite:perversion and spasticity. And my life has been quite a blast ever since. I relish making people laugh with my odd wit and funny manner. Best of all, its laughter that follows me pleasantly, nor with a charnel house stench like Hess's used to. You can see that in my particular pantheon, he occupied a sort of devil demigod position. And, surprisingly enough, I got my biggest boost in number and quality of friends after moving on to the highest nerd and dork institution in this our good land of Virginia: The Commonwealth Governor's School. But, then again, we're not nerds. Most of us are laid back and relaxed and total slackers and future world leaders. Gotta love it, and the 45 minute lunch breaks and blocked classes it carries. Eases the nature of homework too. Another stigma added, though, in joining, so I found chorus. Hilarious times, people. Hilarious.
But this is not to say that I didn't have friends back in the eighth grade. No. Alex was actually a good friend of mine, if you could call him that. It didn't get out right away that I had skipped that grade, and nowadays my wickedly weird personnality hides the age difference quite well, and, in the mean time, I scrambled. For friends, acquaintances, toe holds, anything, cause I already knew what hell I was sliding into. There were two others, friends then and friends now, who never hurt me or sought to. Andrew Gossard was one, partially because he got picked on himself for his size and smarts, and David Trump was the second. Both follow me now, but back then, we revolved around Alex. It keeps coming back to him, no? Well, I guess all of that and this is less than important, just a background to fall back on. Hell, now that I've told my life's fuggin story, I'm too tired to continue on with my girl dilemna. mm.. bed..

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Date:2004-02-05 00:08
Subject:Confuzzled to the Bloody MAX
Security:Public

Let me get one thing straight with you all before venting myself to the ether: I am not, nor ever will be, a Romeo, a Cassanova, a lover boy beyond belief. I have only had two girlfriends during the course of high school. On these two occasions when I did ask a girl out, it was done in a quiet way. I don't subscribe to the trial and error theory that says that the more girls you ask out, the more will date you and the more you date, the better your chances. I like to think I have a desire for an enduring relationship whenever I embark upon dating. Now, with that clear, and the waters crystal, here is the odd behavior.
I am one of those people who's parents bullied them, well sorta, into skipping a grade out of intelligence, realized by the time he got there that he was: A:) Wayy to small to survive : and : B:) Socially underdeveloped. Thus, in eighth grade I got the massive crash course- philosophy- style teachings that leave me where I am today: repeated teasing, shoving in the locker room, shoving in the halls, shoving into lockers, getting into a fist fight or two, being derided as either too intelligent or too lacking in testicular volume to have many close friends. I'll simplify and skip ahead: One kid in particular delighted in seeing me smacking of shame and rage and impotence. His name was Alexander Hess, and though he will probably grow up one of these days, if he hasn't already, I beseech God to curse the ground he treads upon and force it grow black and redolent of thorns. He ran the gambit from callin me petty names to insulting me in front of the entire gym class on numerous occasion to punchin me rabbit-armed in the gut to jawing me on one occasion. Thank the dear lord he left the county before I got up sufficient nerve to deal with him, in full. On the last day he was in school with me, I split, and laid him out on the locker room floor, him struck twice in the stomach and once in the face. He hit the locker behind him when I uppercut him. Suffice to say it cleared my consciousness and let me procede with life. Much of the power he had held over me was gone by the end of eighth grade, but he maintained a presence up until the final day of school during ninth grade. I hope to God I see him again. Sometime, better sooner than later. I'll forgive him if I don't.
I figured out two ways to deal with daily serving-up of abuse, which followed me in part because of my intelligence, partially my way of speaking and attitude. When I was in sixth grade, I'll hesitate not to say it, I was a full-fledged nerdlet, for all my good points. I spoke in an inflected, affected, condescending tone of voice, and I guess I was condescending at that. I interjected the definitions of words in place of the words themselves every so often, to try to put myself on a pedestal with my peers. It worked, sort of. I had high regard in the eyes of peers and teachers, but no friends as such. No name calling, either, seeing as how I was among people my age, height, weight, and overall fighting prowress. Which was very little. If anyone took offense at the way I acted or the grades I got, I could've decked 'em, more than likely. Not true in the eighth grade. In case you haven't figured it out, the grade I skipped was seventh, God bless it. So the first order of business was to loosen up my tongue a little. Drop the definitions and inject some words for once. Spice things up with some humor, find out where the human funny bone is and tickle it every chance you get. Then, second defense, adopt an obsession other than knowledge. I took the opposite:perversion and spasticity. And my life has been quite a blast ever since. I relish making people laugh with my odd wit and funny manner. Best of all, its laughter that follows me pleasantly, nor with a charnel house stench like Hess's used to. You can see that in my particular pantheon, he occupied a sort of devil demigod position. And, surprisingly enough, I got my biggest boost in number and quality of friends after moving on to the highest nerd and dork institution in this our good land of Virginia: The Commonwealth Governor's School. But, then again, we're not nerds. Most of us are laid back and relaxed and total slackers and future world leaders. Gotta love it, and the 45 minute lunch breaks and blocked classes it carries. Eases the nature of homework too. Another stigma added, though, in joining, so I found chorus. Hilarious times, people. Hilarious.
But this is not to say that I didn't have friends back in the eighth grade. No. Alex was actually a good friend of mine, if you could call him that. It didn't get out right away that I had skipped that grade, and nowadays my wickedly weird personnality hides the age difference quite well, and, in the mean time, I scrambled. For friends, acquaintances, toe holds, anything, cause I already knew what hell I was sliding into. There were two others, friends then and friends now, who never hurt me or sought to. Andrew Gossard was one, partially because he got picked on himself for his size and smarts, and David Trump was the second. Both follow me now, but back then, we revolved around Alex. It keeps coming back to him, no? Well, I guess all of that and this is less than important, just a background to fall back on. Hell, now that I've told my life's fuggin story, I'm too tired to continue on with my girl dilemna. mm.. bed..

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