Are you gonna be my girl?

I can take a whole lot of mistreatment from people, and my faith in our friendship will remain unshaken. Maybe it's because I'm used to rejection and feeling bad, and partly it's because I know that I've likely mistreated them in the past, but recently I've discovered that my faith is not limitless like I had thought. Or maybe I knew this before, but had forgotten. Either way, I've been reminded.

There has always been a huge gap between me and pretty much everyone I know. I keep all details about me, from mundane to personal, close, like they were dimensional secrets that would unravel time and space if discovered. This is because I feel that no one really cares to know, but also because I feel that the more people know about me, the less they'll like me.

So I really wonder how much my friends - even the gang - know me. I reveal pieces of myself, and sometimes they are risky and dangerous pieces like when I wrote them little heartfelt letters before my wedding, but mostly it's inconsequential stuff. But they've been around so long that they've seen me with my guard down, I guess. And I still feel shy around them when I haven't seen them for a while. The other day when I saw Jen for the first time in about half a year, I could barely stumble out a “hi” before hiding behind a kitty. I lose the ability to relate to people pretty quickly, I guess.

And they are aloof also, and as aloof as they are, I for some reason believe that they care and that I could count on them if I needed help (this one doesn't require much faith – my friends are awesome), or if I needed to talk. There was a period when Linda and I didn't speak or see each other for over a year, and still, I believe she cares. She shows it in many different ways. Recently Richard and Chris had been getting together without even inviting me, but that bugged me only a little. Somehow, I did not go emo over that. Mark ignores about half the things I say, but I've gotten used to it. I wonder how they did this, get underneath my damage in such a way that I don't really worry about it anymore.

But if I tell you I am upset and I want to talk, and you not only treat it as if it's unimportant for weeks, and moreover just stop talking to me and push me away, my faith breaks. I guess it is some basic expectation of friendship, that if a friend comes to you and says, “I'm terribly sad and upset. Please set aside some time to talk with me,” that the only response possible – if you are indeed friends – is “yes, let me set aside some time tonight [or tomorrow night] so that we can talk in private [with my full attention]”. Not “no [you are not worth my time] [i'm sure it's not that important] [i'd rather do almost anything else] [we are not friends]” (bracketed statements are implied). Also, not “yes”, and then not tell me when you are free, hoping I don't notice, and ignore it for a week.

The problem is compounded because I will rarely, if ever, even admit that I'm sad or upset. So if I tell you that I need to talk, it's because both that I trust that you care to listen and also because I'm in serious trouble. Maybe I'm just really fragile about this, but I take care to make my friends feel important (or I hope I do) and I ensure they know that I am there to listen, will set aside time to listen, and will put off plans to listen if they need it. I can't stand the thought of them having doubts about that, and not coming to me when they need help.

So my heart breaks, and I'll agonize about it forever, and whenever it comes up in my mind I will think, “why didn't so and so care? What is wrong with me?” And even then, our friendship isn't truly over. It would take a herculean effort, but my faith can be gained again. But I will have hurt so deeply at that point that it would take a lot of care. And to be honest, I'm not worth that much effort. I'm not that special that you should seek to ease my pain, nor should you desire my friendship. I have no special skills to offer and I have nothing unique to give.

And so that's how it ends.

We'll crucify the insincere tonight

I am in a wretchedly emo segment of my life. Beware, all those who stand in my way, though it'll be mostly just me, and poor, poor Nads.

Something to understand about me: I will never feel like I am worth someone's time or effort. Even if this person is a salesperson at a shoe store, I feel embarrassed that someone should help me when I deserve nothing. It takes a long, long time to convince me that a person actually cares and wants to help (when it's more than business), and even after that it's very easy, and nearly unavoidable, to break that trust again. I require an awful lot of care and effort.

This behaviour extends online, too. I will try to give gold to people who are helping me, even though I've helped them in the past and in all likelihood owe me a bit of help (but I don't keep track). But I guess that's only with people I like... most of the people on the internet are pretty dreadful.

I wonder what it says about me that I can't really keep acquaintances. If I don't love you in some way, there's pretty much no chance of us keeping contact. I tire of, and fear, transactional relationships. Surround myself with a fence of deep and meaningful relationships, that's the dream. And I can't see outside the fence. I don't want to. I can't think of a single person from any institution or company I've been with that I keep contact with on even an occasional basis, and there is nothing against them. Perhaps if situations were different and different aspects about them were exposed, we would be friends.

Can you be friends with someone and not really want to spend much time with them? Anyone who has bothered to ask knows that if I had infinite money, I would build a luxurious loft/condo complex so that all my friends and I can live on a separate story, with come common facilities where we can do things together. I want them close, and I want to take care of a large portion of their needs. I want to help them fulfill their dreams. I don't think I'd ever pay for everything though, because life starts to become meaningless at some point, doesn't it? Having to pay for things keeps us grounded, and keeps our minds on the sad realities of the world. As I think this I imagine myself lying down on some grassy earth, with my ear to the ground, listening.

I feel myself withdrawing, and I know that I am breaking beyond repair. I am sad every time I have a chance to think. And even though I know my life is pretty good, I can't let go of the problems that beset me. Maybe I'm just spoiled, even though I'm more than thankful for everything and everyone I have.

I want to record this nightmare from the other night in case I forget it. It was really short. Nev was talking to me about something online and I was really tired so I kept dozing off. She was slightly miffed and eventually I just had to log off and go to sleep. However, when I tried to get to sleep, I had to go to the bathroom. At nights I use the bathroom outside so that I don't disturb Jas. As I neared the door to the bathroom, I heard that the tv was on in the living room and wonder why Nads left it on. But it could wait until after, and suddenly I felt this evil, malicious presence. I tried to brush it off and reach for the light switch to the bathroom, but something was holding onto my sleeve and not letting me move. I became really scared and tried to walk back into my bedroom, but I was paralyzed, and not by fear, although it was consuming me at this point. With all my willpower I tried to cry for Nads to help, but only small and intelligible sounds came out. In the real, waking world, however, I made loud unintelligible sounds and I wasn't paralyzed. I was kicking around, and just as the overwhelming fear was about to give me a heart attack, Nads woke me up. My heart raced for many minutes, and slowly came the awful realization that I needed to go to the bathroom. I managed to muster up the courage and go after a few minutes, but I quietly cursed my subconscious. I wasn't in tears like when I had my worst nightmare ever, but I was really, really scared and it took me a very long time to calm down.

The next chapter involves the Watchmen. There are spoilers here, so if you haven't read the book or if you haven't watched the movie, you should skip this section. It is very true to the graphic novel, and for this reason I highly recommend reading the book before seeing the movie. I felt like some of the scenes would not interest anyone who did not read or maybe even enjoy the book. Rorshach translated surprisingly well to screen even with the broken sentence structure. He was a complete badass, and I thank Mr. Haley for doing my favourite character justice. Overall the movie was good, so I'll just cover the three problems I had with it:

It was often overdramatized. Slow motion felt a bit abused at times, even though I realize this is supposed to be the style of the movie, it was a bit jarring at some points. I found myself wondering if they really needed slow motion for that particular shot. Anyway, this was not a big deal in any way.

I felt the way Laurie Jupiter (Silk Spectre) discovers the identity of her father was completely forced (and dumbed down) and I did not feel the way I did when I read the novel. They also didn't spend a lot of time developing or showing Laurie's hatred for the Comedian, so it was hard to understand why she was so upset. Finally, I could have sworn I didn't actually see any tears.

But the thing that bothered me the most was Dan's (Nite Owl) stupid little outburst and lashing out at Adrian Veidt (Ozymandias) after Rorshach is killed. Not only was this defeating the point of Dan's character (he's supposed to be helpless in the face of the events, even though he is a masked hero with all these super gadgets), but even moreso than that, he very clearly tells us that what Adrian did is wrong. That really violates one of the things that makes Watchmen great, which is the ambiguity of ethics and the weird morality that exists through the entire novel and culminates with the destruction of millions to save billions. Was what Adrian did right or wrong? That is the question that the Watchmen asks of us, and Dan's little didactic tirade takes that question away.

Otherwise, the movie was good. The score was a compilation of fairly popular tunes, and I felt they might have been chosen for popularity rather than suitability, but I'm no music critic so I'm not really sure if you can count on my opinion on this. The action was visceral and brutal, and the nudity did not feel gratuitous or unnecessary. I'll watch it again.

I guess I should stop rambling. Needless to say I feel like crap. As only when someone you care about tells you “you're not worth the effort” can make you feel.

These are the things I could do without

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Lily was never the perfect student. Sometimes traffic accidents and weather conditions would prevent her from reaching school, and dogs would occasionally eat her homework. She had made, as her New Year's resolution, a vow to try to be a good student, but today was harder than most. Her eyes closed for an extended blink once again.

She heard about the apiaceae and the convolvulvaceae, and it's not that she wasn't interested in the topic (botany was an elective for her after all), but she didn't sleep very well last night. Her roommates were partying hard and, being the responsible student that she was committed to being, she stayed in her room and tried to sleep.

With the energy she gained from the seconds long nap, she managed to prop open her eyes again. She decided to try different techniques to stay awake. The first method she tried was to survey her classmates. The girl in front of her was wearing a blue ribbon in her hair, and it looked good, despite her red hair. She seemed to be drawing bunnies in her notebook, and the only actual note she took so far was the date. Next, she stole a look at the guy beside her, hoping that he wasn't looking at the time and that if he was, he did not get the wrong idea. She just wanted to look at the man that smelled a bit like a dirty wet towel, and then never sit beside, or near, or in the same universe as him again.

The professor was a tall man and endearingly passionate about plants. Lily often pondered what his house is like – if it had vines snaking across all the walls and furniture, if it had every colour you could find in nature, and if it contained the plant from Little Shop of Horrors. He would probably feed it, Lily mused, but not for power or a girl, but because he couldn't let a plant die. She imagined him singing to it: “Please grow for meeeeee!”

There's a guy with indistinnct black...

When Lily regained her vision again, she was determined to keep it this time by singing songs in her head. The first one that came to mind was a slow ballad that she didn't know the name of, which was entirely her friend's fault for mislabelling the song when he gave it to her. Also, it was a very bad song to stay awake to. Blink.

Lily was startled to find herself as one of the only people in the classroom. It's like everyone had just vanished and were replaced with other students. I hate it when people are ridiculously early for their next class, she muttered, as she quickly packed up and gained a second wind going into her break.

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This is my first attempt to get back into writing, so please forgive the poor quality. I wanted to do more with Lily's tendency to blame others for stuff.