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05/16/2002 entry: "rain makes for horrible days"

So, today hasn't been a great day. Last night, I was in a really good mood, and I was playing my music and stuff... then today just sucked.

First of all, I was way tired. Naturally. But it didn't start getting bad until it started raining. Yes, I found out it was raining and boy was I pissed. I HATE rain. Besides that, the Student Assistant Picnic for the library was today. I didn't go last year, and I sure as hell wasn't going to go this year. But people don't seem to like that. Everytime I say I'm not going, I get harassed. "You're not GOING??" It's not like I just told them that they suck and I hate them and I don't want to go because of that.

I have many reasons. One, on Thursdays my boyfriend and I usually go have lunch together. No, our schedules don't really allow for that during the rest of the week. We didn't end up going today anyhow, but I have other good reasons. Two, I don't see the point. Free food? So what? I have $200 on my ID for the Cage, I consider that free food in a way. I also have plenty of food at home to feed me. I don't value free food that much, and people LOVE to use that on college students. Free cookies! So what? Free dinner! What about my homework and people I talk to online while I'm in my room? Yeah, exactly. Three, nobody really wants me there, so why subject myself to that kind of social situation? Yeah, I know the bullshit they'll feed me if I say that. "We want you there! blahblahblah I'm full of crap." Every event that I'm required to go to, I get treated pretty shittily. I'm not talking about the regular library employees. Yeah I guess they'll talk to you, but there's that age gap thing. I don't take that very seriously anyhow. They're all nice, but it's a different situation. I'm talking about the Student employees. Bah! Why go? At the Orientation in the Fall, there was a thing with food. I just felt so isolated and crappy the whole time. I don't need to depress myself further by going to some stupid indoor picnic and getting ignored some more. I HATE when people bullshit me about that stuff. They'll tell me that they want me there, they'll patronize me, and they'll say "well I talk to you!" and all that, but when it comes right down to it, most people don't mean it. They'll do it that one time because they feel bad for you, but they don't really care. Not that I completely expect them to, I'm just saying that I don't see the point of spending time with a bunch of people who don't care as much as they pretend to sometimes. See, SOMETIMES. Not even all the time. I refuse to waste my time sitting there, feeling embarrassed and alone, or even worse, embarrassed and pitied. Fuck that.

Anyhow.

So, my boyfriend and I walked over to the Art Office because I had a drawing to pick up that didn't get in the competition. I go there, but there's NO one. My drawings weren't even there. So I thought to myself, maybe I should go next door to the Art Center and look in the room I left them in. I went in the Art Center, and saw one of my teachers in there, so I asked him where they were. He opened the room for me, and there my picture was. Stupid stupid people. The woman who called me told me to go to the secretary from 10-2 or something. Bullshit. I'm so sick of being lied to. At this school, that's basically what you're paying for. Being lied to. But in life in general, that's all I seem to get. Lies lies lies. You can tell me that they're little white lies, or they're lies that need to be told for some reason, but that doesn't change the fact that they're dirty rotten lies and it's an insult to be lied to.

The truth may have a sharper pain to it, but lies cause a pain that's much deeper and slower. It's fucking agony.

Gah, people. Although most of the time, I think that I'm no better than any of them and that's what's so sad.

There are a few people I legitimately love and care about, and there are a few other people that I think could be good people, but hell, this is a depressing world to live in.

I don't mean to sound so down all the time, I really don't. It's part of whatever sickness that's in my head I guess. As much as thinking like this hurts, I almost relish the emotional pain I put myself through. I can articulate bad things, and pain and depression and sadness. But I have a hard time describing the good things that I feel, and I don't really know why. Maybe the good things I feel are just inexpressable. Inexpressible? I don't know.

To anybody who thinks that it's sad that I talk this way all the time, or who pities me for living such a depressed life, I have something to say. For every moment that I experience pain, stress, anger or sadness, there's an equal and opposite moment where I just sit and think that some things are so completely beautiful. I've lied awake in bed staring out the window at a full moon, trying to wrap my mind around what it actually is, and trying to take it in as much as possible. I've stared out my living room window at the sunset, and drunk in every single color in the sky. I've almost gotten in accidents, being in awe of just how something outside the car looks, like sunsets and full moons, but like cemeteries and trees with blooming flowers. I'm in love with the way it feels to be floating on my back in the pool, at night, in the middle of summer, with my eyes closed. I don't think I could ever be more comfortable with my acoustic guitar than I am when I'm sitting out on our cement front porch during the summer with no shoes on, leaning on the brick... or sitting in the backyard on the picnic table, just watching the bushes and talking. I don't think I'll ever be happier that it's storming than when I'm at home, watching movies, or going to sleep with my windows open. Sometimes when I'm calm and content, I sit and think about how much I love the few friends I do have and how many good memories I have of them... or I think about how lucky I am to have the family I have, and to have Kevin, and that I can go to college and keep learning.

See? I'm not all bad. It just hurts that life can't consist of all those wonderful moments consecutively, repeatedly, forever. So when I can't be in those moments, I get depressed and think of how empty I feel, and then I start writing about it because I can't just hold it in. And when I do have a wonderful moment, it's unfortunate because I seem to usually not be able to get it out. Some things are just beyond words.

So I'm sorry if I'm depressing. I'm not really a bad person.