Depressed

I guess we all can't be as perfect as we'd like to assume. Depression gets the best of me sometimes, especially when I'm alone and at night. I don't care anymore about my life.. I just kind of want it all the erase and start fresh.. with the personality and the mentality and the smarts that I have now. Erase the past and move on from it.

We've come such a long way with technology, and yet, we still can't wipe our minds. I feel like if we lived in a world like The Jetsons, life would be so grand because you'd not have to strain so much anymore.. you could quantum leap and defy gravity and do tons of neat tricks. Life would be interesting... and surely easier to meet guys who you think were made for you..

I want to write more to Zanguin.. but I can't feel it. It seems as though my emotions are beginning to consume me.. maybe my need for sex is starting absorb my mind; locking it away to where I can't focus on anything but one thing. I feel like I've let myself down inside.. and the nightmares that I had for 2.5 weeks straight may have been my mind working some deep emotional stuff out--bringing it to the surface.

I want to cuddle with someone tonight. I feel like I had that opportunity last night, but I was too shy and I had other plans with an alternate party. Although I had an amazing time with that alternate party, I feel as though woe and sadness are sucking me back into the void that I once knew.. and always feel often. It's a sadness that can't go away because of the pain that once encompassed me.

I soldier on in life and prove my positivity with kindness and humility. I stay strong so I can be strong for those who are in the position I was once in... but when you meet people who have felt a similar pain, you can't control your urge to reminisce your childhood. You can't help but recall the memories because that person is sharing theirs with you... reminding you of yours.

After devouring a tub of BlueMoon ice cream last night at a park with my friend Sam and Julie, I decided that I wanted to jump this creek that was nearby. Julie told me not to because she tried it before and it didn't really work out. It was a pretty large creek and when I got to the edge, disaster struck. Where this pride, security, and determination came from, I don't know. Maybe it was the 50 spoon-fulls of ice cream.

But when I reached that cliff-side, I tripped on some vegetation and fell in it face-first. Sam recalled an explosion of water and mud around my body as I impacted. Between the time I tripped to the time I impacted the sewage-infested creek with possible parasites and leeches, I felt so free and the only thing that was running through my mind was, "Oh shit, Julie was right."

When I crawled out of the creek, I got up and felt stupid. I explained how I learned my lesson and that if I wouldn't have hesitated, I probably would have made it. Julie drove me back home and I undressed at the door and threw everything I was wearing but my boxers and shirt in a plastic garbage bag. I then showered, got dressed, grabbed some lavender incense, and headed out the door. When we arrived at Julie's house, we decided to stay out on the trampoline all night with tons of blankets and we ended up sleeping outside.

We talked all night, tried to get comfortable, talked about the weirdest things, found the big/little dipper, I did voice impressions and told random stories about a French woman and also this woman who got raped by a man with tons of fruit, Julie told stories about her childhood, Sam was doing a spoof of these annoying birds that were chirping in the morning, we were all cuddled up and Sam was in the middle, and when we woke up around 7:30, Julie made us pancakes, or panclarks as she called them. I never had so much fun. :)

Things are beginning to add up in my neck of the woods. From thoughts of breaking my abstinence to unsuccessfully leaping creeks to talking with my first boyfriend from two years ago to trying to obtain unobtainable demigods in California---I'm just stressed. I've always handled stress so well, and like a sponge, I've held my own. But things are starting to take its toll. I feel as though meditation won't clear this mood.

Maybe what I need to do is find someone who needs me... not someone I need. If I weren't so sore and my face didn't have minor cuts and scrapes on it from the unsuccessful leap, I'd have tried to meet someone tonight, or even my friend who was in the area and said he could stop by to cheer me up. If I did meet someone new, what would we do, honestly? They'd want to have sex, I'm sure. I just want to be lazy with another man and share kind feelings without doing much-- just laying. But even then, I'm too shy and nervous to do that with strangers.

I don't let in just anyone.

Some people contemplate death when they are bored, lonely, and depressed. Even if I did contemplate it, it'd do nothing for me. I don't want to die; quite the contrary. I want to live and be free, knowing I have no limits and no bonds. I told Julie last night that jumping the creek made my appreciate limits. It made me understand that which we are physically bound by. I have this ever-expanding enterprise of concepts, ideas, and thoughts fumigating in my mind like a burning building. Jumping that creek makes me wonder if I'm really able to take my thoughts and bring them into reality.

The entire time I was running and even before contemplating it, I imagined the arch I'd make with my body as it propelled forward over the creek. I imagined flawlessly how I'd do it, how much speed I'd need, when to jump, and my body landing on the resilient grass yonder. In my mind, it was the epitome of perfection. I knew I could do it and I had this security about it--yet I failed and splashed my face right into fecal matter, decaying plant life, sewage, and mud.

It makes me wonder if all my aspirations and ideas of curing age and HIV are going to be producible. I have the blueprints in my head and I know in my heart and soul that I have the potential to do great things. But right now as I recall the unsuccessful creek launch, I feel naive about my aspirations. I feel a part of me dropping into a dark well with an echoing sound as it plummets through the water like a bullet.

I feel a bit of me die inside when I think about all of these things... and I feel like there's no future for me. But then again, I always over-think everything. Maybe Dalles was right: we do have different lifestyles. I'm still depressed and I'm using my optimism to try to replace the little insecurities and memories that I hold close. I never really told the truth with myself when it came to this part of the picture. This entire time, I've been masquerading my emotions and the hurt inside--storing it away and hoping that I could replace it.

How foolish I have been,