But for some reason, I'm feeling like writing.  Might have something to do with me being stuck home alone with my grandma on a Saturday night.  Leaves me a lot of time to think, though that's not always a good thing.  Makes me realize how pathetic my life is when Ally's away.  I don't really think about her much or else that'll totally spoil my days, but as soon as I get home that's all that's on my mind.  When I hear the phone ring, my heart skips a beat in hopes it's her.  It's sad really, she's got me totally wrapped around her finger and that's something I'm liking.  Ugh. *shudder*  Might as well crack the whip now, heh.  Luckily for me, she's coming back monday, but with my work schedule it's somewhat annoying.  The 3 days she's not here, I work the mornings.  2 of the days she's here I do close, and on my 2 days off, she has driving classes 7-10 one night and the next night my parents get back home.  Yippy!  Whatever, so long as I get to see her.

As I sit here after a somewhat unpredictable evening, I'm feeling an urge to scream or to lash out at something.  I can't really explain why, but it's just this urge I'm getting.  Really, it has no foundation but nonetheless there's just things that I can't understand that seem to build up and piss me off.

To begin, I'm not quite sure why I'm not in a great mood.  Possibly because I'm all alone and feeling very lonely just this moment.  Possibly because things aren't often as planned.  Then again, a touch of randomness and spontaneity never hurt.

I have a hard time with people.  People in general are dumb.  Individuals are somewhat intelligent, or at least show signs of it every once in a blue moon; people are idiots.  It seems to that everyone is so enticed with this "talking" thing.  It's odd really, because I'm one who likes conversations.  Maybe not participating in them, but I like listening.  But sometimes, things need not be said.  Sometimes, you don't want someone to say something and ruin it.  Sometimes, you just want to be.  It's odd because I can be quite off the wall most of the times.  But when I want to relax, or when I just don't want to pretend, just want to be, then something's "wrong" with me.  People don't get that.  I'm a quiet guy.  I like to be left to my thoughts, and right now I'm thinking speaking can ruin things.

I dunno, I'm just in a somewhat odd state right now.  After a very weird evening with its dose of frustrations (though quite admittedly, I understand and it's no one's fault) I sat down alone at midnight and decided to pop some movie in the DVD player.  I hate saying this, mostly because I have a dick, but I really liked this movie.  I find the whole concept to be just awesome.  50 First Dates was good.  It wasn't hilarious.  It wasn't stupid.  Yet I liked it.  I'm a sap for that, yes, that's right, I like those kind of movies.  The ones where the end is predictable, the guy gets the girl after doing everything for her and yet she still breaks his heart.  I guess I can somewhat see a side of me to this.  As much as I may argue that I don't obey to anyone, I'm pretty whipped... Partly because I let myself be, but partly because I want to be.  Yet the whole time I was watching the movie, something felt wrong and it wasn't the alcohol which was then purged out of my body.  For some reason I just felt myself clasping to the pillow a little stronger, keeping the blanket on me so it would get a little warmer and regretting some times wasted.  Times where I was just too shy, or too awkward or didn't know what to do.  I know I hate to admit it, but I know my clock may be ticking.  Summer's beginning and as far as I know, I could be wasting my better days.  As much fun as I can have doing crazy things, tonight I wanted to just be with her.  Odd, perhaps, because I had just dropped her home before starting the movie, but yet it just wasn't the same kind of want.  Just my cry for affection I guess.

I don't know, these movies just mess me up.  As if I needed to get taken off balance even more than I naturally am...

I'm not one of these people who are fond of writing.  I'm also not one of those people who really have a lot to complain about.  I am however a person who likes to reflect, and after picking at someone's brain for a long time through her blog, I figured what the hell.  It's always good to reflect, to recollect... to ponder.  As much as I may try to make this interesting, the writing intricate and enticing, I would put some money on my failure.  I must nonetheless remind myself that I'm not doing this for anyone... Only myself.

Life is unfair.  It truly is.  I am sitting here comfortably in my home wrapped up in a blanket, TV blaring next to me and I have no care in the world.  I have just finished high school.  Chemistry seemed to be a breeze, and even if it wasn't, who cares.  Wasting my time in social at college until I can get to police academy.  I have a great companion and I can't speak any evil about her, she's wonderful.  The only problem I may have with her is that she may be leaving me behind this summer.  Otherwise, everything is nice and peachy... except it's not.  I hate myself for having a carefree life.  I hate having everything great, everything my way.  My parents are great and so is my brother.  We have our share of disagreements, but nothing I can't shrug off.  I have a great job and my friends are great.  Except *they* aren't great.  It seems everyone around me is undergoing turmoils that I can't seem to understand.  I can't grasp their problems nor how to solve them.  It's infuriating to see them struggle as if they were stranded in the ocean.  As if I'm watching them from a boat with a lifejacket on my back, and yet I'm unable to undo it.

The thing about me is I'm extremely calculated.  I know how to ease myself into situations.  If I want to find out something, more often than not I can.  If I want to say something, I'll fancy it up and make it sound nice.  I hate that about myself.  How I can go out there and fish for compliments.  I can fish for compassion from people who don't know me.  I can sing a song of sorrow that entangles anyone within earshot.  I've always had a thing for manipulating people.  I've had to.  Always been somewhat of an outcast, afraid of others and shy of myself.  I cast a daily illusion to each and every individual I know.  And it's frustrating to see that as much as they "care", no one truly gives a shit.  People are all selfish.  People are just like me.  We're all the same.

Now as I go along my day, more often than not I will try to incorporate myself into someone's life.  For a few minutes, I am theirs.  I live through them, I feel their pain.  I don't know why, but I've always been that way.  I'm constantly reflecting on things of some sort and as such I find myself able to come to conclusions and solutions quite effortlessly.  My mind works in a methodical sort of way, where I can easily isolate a problem and come up with a solution.  And so when my friends unveil their problems, I can immediately come up with an answer.  I'm such a smartass.

I can see why I make people angry.  I make myself angry.  I take things too seriously, and I'm not one of those warm people.  I've conditioned myself to not react to pain.  I try to detach myself.  Am I afraid? Damn straight.  I'm a coward.  But it's much less painful this way.  But this carelessness does get to me.  Because as much as I try to help, I know that in the end, I'm just making it worse.  I'm sitting in this chair, nice and comfy while others are suffocating and pleading for help.  And I can just sit here and watch, direct them like those producers do.  So coldheartedly...

I'm getting myself carried away.... My mind really does wander, and I'm still not conditioned to these kinds of postings.  Carry on, there's nothing to see here.  Only an angry and confused little boy.