Just need to blah

I came down from the silence of my room, hoping there was something I could talk about. And there's probabaly a great deal of things I can talk about, but somehow they escape me when I'm in the cafe. Maybe it's the people, maybe it's the pop music playing in the backround, or just my own intimacy issues in trying to open up to anyone or anything(a computer monitor in this instance) that keeps the words from flowing.

I'm a quiet guy by nature. My relatively newer friends would probably disagree, and I wouldn't blame them. It's been a few years, and I still don't think I've really readjusted to society fully yet, although I have a lot of folks fooled. Yeah, I'm probabaly a whole lot more talkative nowadays, but only because it's less discomforting for other people that way. When you're quiet, people think you've got problems or something(which isn't a bad assumption to make). So in my effort to adapt since being released back into the wild, I've learned to compromise. I end up talking about a lot of things I don't usually talk about, things I shouldn't talk about, and a lot of things I regret, even if it's just little things most people don't bother about. Somedays I feel fake. Somedays, I am fake. Somedays I feel like I've betrayed myself. Somedays I just go into auto pilot. A lot of the days, I'm just dissapointed. I've learned to loosen up a little bit, but sometimes I forget why I thought it was all worth it...

I think I'm flattering myself when I say I'm being fake whenever I do something stupid or regrettable. For all I know, that is in fact all I've amounted to over the years. That is what I've become, I'm just everybody else. There's a quote two people have shared with me over two different instances, something about how fighting the never-ending battle to be ourselves is the greatest battle we can ever fight; well, I'll tell them I've lost that battle. I'm probably just going through the motions of self-denial of what I've finally become. A coward in life. I want so much to blame something or someone. Want to scream that it's somebodys fault why I don't have a heart. It's somebody fault I'm so cold. It's somebodys fault I can't do and be everything I want to. I want to blame somebody and tell them, "you keep me from growing a soul." But then, I realize that giving that much power to anyone over your life would be your own fault. In the end, I always realize...it is still, as always my fault. That's probably the one thing that never changes.

But if I ever felt real, most of the time, that real guy would be a quiet type of guy. He'd probabaly be a boring guy, but I've always known I'm not the life-of-the-party-kind-of-guy. I'm the type of guy people look for when they got problems, but not the type if you want a fun night out in the town, and that doesn't bother me a bit. But nowadays, I'm not the dependable shoulder to cry on anymore...if I ever was. So I guess that makes me the nowhere guy. That's probabaly what another friend of mine meant when she said, "you're here but not here."

I followed a sort of code back then in my less disappointing years. I would only talk about important things, things of relevance. I'd never share secrets that we're given to me(although I've still kept good on some up till now). I wouldn't gossip or talk about people I didn't really know. I wouldn't say anything about anyone if I couldn't say it to their face. And a whole buncha other stuff. But it was a silent code I lived by that nobody knew about. So when I was slowly changing, and the boy who lived by the code was slowly dying, nobody was around to give him a proper burial. No one even noticed the passing.

But being quiet wasn't always a good thing. I've been quiet for different reasons, even wrong ones. Some people who knew me as a quiet guy thought it made me seem all mysterious. All it really was was a lack of faith in the sincerity of human connection and a lot of distrust for people. People seemed like so much waste of saliva. You could try to talk some sense into them, but nothing would change. They thought I didn't care about things, although I really did. I just don't believe in fighting battles that can't be won. And I didn't want to be part of the mostly superficial motions of human interaction. But who knows, maybe I should've tried. Maybe I should've tried real hard.

I know I shouldn't sound so pessimistic and cynical about these things, coz in all fairness, I've also met some real people in my life. They give me air. They give me hope. They give me a reason to keep trying...or at least to try and remember to keep trying. And yeah, i know...I should give people and the world a break too and not just vice-versa.

The real problem I have nowadays is that I talk too much about things that aren't really important. Most of the things that are really on my mind merely stay there...in the realm of a confused and fractured psyche(I bet no one would argue that). If it weren't so stupid, I'd say it was funny to find myself in a predicament where I have decided to try and interact with people but decidedly keep much about myself so secret. And it leads me back to the question as to why I have to do it this way. Wait...I remember why...and I can't elaborate.

Oh the crazy human condition.

....

"We are all inclined to judge ourselves by our ideals; others, by their acts."
-Harold Nicolson