ravenswept | Hurray, I depressed myself (Reply)

Know what sucks about liking soda so much? You drink too much, are still awake at one o'something in the morning, with only the sounds of a fan blowing not-so-cool air around the apartment and what I imagine to be the smoking, and possibly high, hippie-like neighbors laughing much too loudly even though it's against complex sound ordinance, and thereby letting yourself think much too long about things that will only get you down.

I'm not where I want to be. Few people are, and future ambitions aside that's not what I meant. At the moment, I'm waiting to hear back from the state licensure after much too fucking long so that I can go to work. I can't work without that license, so I'm stuck doing nothing until then...well, okay, not entirely true, but I have a job lined up already. My saved cash is running out, and I'm on a shoe-string budget as is. My writing isn't coming as smoothly as one could hope, which isn't so much a thing, being I'm not currently making money from it, but it's not helping.

And, of course, all this is when my Jeep window decides that it's going to burn out the motor while the window is "down", so now I'm ghetto fabulous with a trash-bag window.

I moved out from Washington D.C. in late March to Portland, OR, to be roommates with my best friend who I roommated with a few years previous. In D.C. I was more or less scabbing, living with my grandfather, rent free, while I went to school to try to do something more with my life than live at home (again, long story) and work a full-time job/part-time hours serving job; a job I had just quit, rather than let my budding sociopathy bear fruit and unleash all those nice little comments I hold back when you crack a stupid joke about the special or attempt to be witty to a server who, really, could care less. See, I've been out three years and still it comes back rather quickly.

I moved to Portland to attempt to be more...I dunno, adult. Parents aren't close enough to turn to if I need help, no family at all in the same state (well, not entirely true, I had an uncle who lived here, but I didn't know that until he had already passed away years ago, but I barely knew even him, so his family don't even register to me), a best friend who has his own issues and worries, and rent to pay. Hurrah, hurrah.

In the middle of it all, I find myself, in the damning quiet of not having anything to distract me, trying to figure out what I want. Not just for myself, but what is it I'm going for.

No girlfriend; I feel socially awkward as is, and while I can blend in fine with you normies, actually striking up a conversation with a female has never exactly been my forte. I can fake it, I can even flirt in fact, but actually making any move of substance; not exactly where I shine. I've only had one previous girlfriend, and that was a pretty serious relationship...for what it was, looking back at it, I was massively unmature enough to understand a lot of it. But it was what it was, and I still care for her, though not that way. We split on good terms, and hell, I jumped at the chance to have the honor of marrying her to her husband (good guy, fellow geek) when she announced she was engaged. Also, I had no money for a gift, really wanted to give them something meaningful, and it helped reconnect with her again. Somehow I ended up getting a gift from them for officiating, I'm still not quite sure how that works out but anyway...

Hell, I don't having many people I could even call "friend". My roommate is my best (male) friend, for all his pluses and minuses. My best (female) friend is one state up, I really need to get up to visit her come to think of it, and unfortunately we don't talk enough. What friends I still have from highschool are mostly names on Facebook now, those I made at work pretty much stay "work friends", of those work friends all of them are in different states now, and I'm too much a shy bastard to actively go out and meet people. An extrovert, I am not. Internet friends are internet friends, you take as much from them as there is. Some you know, some you think you know, others you delude yourself into saying their friends, but too many are just names that aren't theirs and words on a screen you have to try to place a face and voice to, and often there isn't one.

Geez, I tried to write this out to get it off my chest, when is the healing supposed to begin, eh?

But then again; words on a screen. When you don't actually talk to someone, nobody's really listening.

I think I need to not think for a minute.