School is ending soon. I don’t know how to feel. One day you’re in class and you know everybody around you and it’s a regular day and you’ve practically memorized the seating arrangements, and the next second everyone’s out of their seat and you’ll never see them again for two months. Maybe you’ll never see them again.
I’m torn. I don’t know how to feel. One side of me says I never had friends in the first place. Another says that I don’t want this to happen again. Change and continuity. I’m going to college faster than I think I am. I don’t want to lose my friends for another two months when I was just starting to truly know them.
I have nowhere to go. Right now I am typing with my eyes closed, imagining my place. I can’t find it. It is just black. There’s no point in me returning to my birthplace; I can identify nobody except my grandparents and my father alongside me. I don’t seem to have friends I remember. Wait. One comes in mind. But he seems long gone… The ambience. It’s cloudy. Cirrus clouds, with cumulus rushing underneath them. It just finished raining. The concrete is moist. The birds are chirping a bit; an idle, reflective chirp. I hear a faint whirring of a single-engine plane nearby. It is afternoon and there is nothing to do. But what? It is this same idleness that I found six months ago in that faraway place that I find now.
And at night I look out the window and I wonder if I really enjoyed the daytime. I tempt myself to just stay on the computer all night long, because night or day, I can be connected; I am only limited by my human Circadian rhythm. But eventually sleep picks me up and carries me to the bed. I think of my father and my brother and pressure myself to not inherit the same bad habits as they do.
During the summer I go to a whole new world with an entirely different, younger crowd. Even that is getting old since everyone is used to only being together for only 30 days a year unless they go to the same school, and this summer will be the fourth and final year of all that. I’m not interning anywhere; I hardly have the job experience I gravely need if I want to go places.
I want to code but the only people to encourage me are only 8 wires of Cat5 away from the computer. Stop trying to tell me my brother is supportive. The only reason he’s on the computer is because I’m on the computer. So he always wants me to take a break or play a game with him. I wish my family was a “maker” family. But they are not. Even my dad does not know how to remove the screws on a PS3 controller without (pun totally intended) screwing it up.
I’ve been crying on the inside for so long and nobody has ever talked to me about it. They think it’s just ordinary of me doing it, staring into blank space, pacing around. My dad has a bit of a clue of what’s going on but just dismisses it on the grounds of general anxiety. But my eyes feel like they are bleeding, not red healthy blood, but rather oozing a black tarlike substance that subjects me to an utmost internal agony. It’s not that I feel like I’m dying. I just feel in pain all the time. I keep questioning what entertainment is. Paying someone to make me laugh. Sometimes I imagine what would happen if the person on the stage just throws whatever he has on his hand at the floor, shouts something incoherent, and just leaves.
What an unhappy world secular society is. No wonder people take drugs and kill each other and beg for money on the streets. They have no friends. Nobody to get them back into mainstream society. Like me, they are torn. Things get so impersonal when you are not friends with the person you are talking to, especially in the business world.
People think I’m dumb. The reason is that I exhibit absolutely no enthusiasm or response in most things that I do. According to my brother, I am a boring person. I think I have forgotten what fun was, given the long span of time that has elapsed since I truly had fun. Yesterday my brother had his birthday party; I felt somewhat excluded. Maybe that’s my reward for trolling all these years. Playing with my brother doesn’t count because the fun usually lasts for an hour or so, then I go back to what I was doing before. When was the last time I had fun with my friends and not those of somebody else? It would be strange of me to take a leadership role, become extroverted, and suddenly invite friends to my house.
I don’t really know who I am.
I am not visiting a psychologist and I need to if I ever want to get this fixed. But I don’t know how to break it to either of my parents. I don’t know how to explain my problems and tell them that I need help. Remember, I’m posting these thoughts PUBLICLY. I’m opening my brain to everyone in the world. Every time I make a post like this one on this wretched blog, I’m damaging myself, my worth, and my relationship with everyone around me. I have to get this fixed.