Thursday, February 23, 2006

How Far We've Come... Not Far At All.

Wow. So I skipped an entire month in terms of posts. Alot of stuff happened. Too much stuff to recap shortly. I don't really want to try either. I Know exactly why I'm posting this. But I just don't know yet if it's the right thing to do. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess I can only be sure if I write it all down. That's the only way I can get rid of this weight on my chest, a weight I've been carrying for longer than I thought. A weight which I just now realized I was carrying.

Verne says my song right now is A Pinkerton one. As much as I love to piss him and Danny off by saying I don't like Weezer, He really is right. The song is "Why Bother"

There's a few misgivings. But the majority of it is right on. Especially the chorus. Overall, It's just not worth it anymore. I'm too insecure for my own good. Those insecurities are going to hold me back. I can't get into a relationship right now. I just can't. I'm still too pissed off at women in general to even think about it.

Anyway. On to other things. So I have another job. The job that keeps on giving... shit that is. Let me explain. I work in an italian restaraunt. A family owned one. I'm a busboy. I even work there with my sister. The place though, is a madhouse. I've said it before, it feel like I'm on one of those Discovery Channel reality shows. You know, like Monster Garage, or American Choppers. Stuff where there are people bitching at each other all day. That's where I work. We could probably get a show too, if there were room in the place for the camera's. The family is always shouting at one another, if not one of us. The owner, Achille, got pissed at me the other day for talking to my sister. More civilly than usual too. Melissa, a waitress there, is one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. One of the nicest too, but still intimidating, especially when I make an ass of myself. Kinda like today. It can be hell there. It really can. I don't know why I still do it though. Maybe part of me likes it.

It won't be like BofA though. God I miss that place. I really do. I don't miss the job, just the people. I really do miss the people.

I wonder sometimes, if I am missed.

I know my friends miss me. Sometimes. But there are others who I expect to call me every now and again. They don't. It's kinda like Mar. She never called. Said she loved me, wanted to hang out with me, even went so far as to like me. For a bit anyways. Never called though. I get that sometimes. You're busy, maybe you forget. But to never call, not cool.

Another thing to vent on... with Mar, at least, is the fact that she really pulled a number on me. I realize it with alot of clarity now. I realize this, because she's back with Jason. Yeah... Jason. You know the one who treated her like shit, and bitches about his life constantly? Well maybe not anymore, I don't know and couldn't know, but still. How a person could just bitch so much that over time you go from annoyed to disgusted by it, amazes me. We used to be great friends, but he just changed the wrong way. Or maybe I changed. Mabe everyone around him changed. unlikely but possible. Damn, Where was I? Oh yeah, Mar. With Jason.

This after she said she "wasn't ready." You know what? cut the crap already. Please. I look at the pillow she gave me, and I'm torn between the nostalgic feeling of care and warmth in my heart remebering what she told me when she gave it to me, when she thought of me when I wasn't around, to the cold, hard, bitterness of what I'm almost pretty sure was a dissembling pity and trite intention. It's pretty shitty. The key thing though, is that I still have that pillow. It's on my bed even, not stuffed under it like some people might do. It still means something to me. Enough to where I can't throw it away.

If she told me the brutal honest truth though (which she may have already done, but I'm still too insecure to accept it as that) maybe we could still be friends. All I know was that the last time we hung out, it became increasingly uncomfortable for me, and also her.

and I'm talking to myself at night, because I can't forget...
Back and forth, through my mind, behind a cigarette.

Sounds good. I'm back though. Look for more post. Thanks to ender for getting my ass in gear again. More on me soon. To fill in on those near, far, curious, dissapointed, and those not talking to me for whatever reasons they may have.


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