I'm sick of showing up to shows (on the occasion that I have the money to drive to Raleigh on the night of a show) and hearing, "Oh my God, you're here? I heard you turned into a bro."

I did not turn into a bro. Yes, I joined a fraternity. On the advice of a friend who I met because his jacket had a Leftover Crack back patch. Not everyone in the fraternity has musical tastes similar to mine, but several people do, and everyone does their own thing.

But being in a fraternity does not make me a bro. I don't wear boat shoes. I don't wear visors. I don't creep on girls. I don't say "bro" seriously. I don't really do anything that would qualify me as a bro.

So it's kind of weird that so many people from the punk scene back home have deleted me from myspace. Come on, guys. Seriously.

It's officially New Years Eve, which basically means I'm obligated to sum this year up in one major epiphany or life lesson. But that's impossible this year, because this was one fucking complicated year. Here's what I've learned:

1. Who I am in relation to myself, and not in relation to a significant other. I've been single since last September. That has generally bothered the shit out of me. But ultimately, I've discovered that I don't need a girl to define myself or to make me feel worthwhile. I'm a worthwhile human being regardless, and I really like who I am, even if other people don't. That's the point of life, isn't it? To be happy with who you are and how you're living? It may seem because I'm writing this now, after a bunch of girls have started to like me, that I'm only happy with myself because girls like me now, but I came to this realization quite some time ago.

2. Don't trust anyone completely. Let's just say I'm glad the fact that I trusted certain people with my life was never trusted, because I wouldn't be writing this right now. Certain people proved themselves not to be trustworthy and completely betrayed me. But I learned from it. I can't trust anyone, even people who seem like my best friends, and that's just fine.

3. It doesn't matter how you dress; people will treat you the same. The clothing style switch after spring break was both me trying something new because I felt like it and an experiment to see if people would treat me differently. After the initial shock wore off, nobody treated me any different than they had before the change. Since I've been in college, I've switched styles back and forth completely at will and nobody's said anything or changed how they've treated me. People pay too much attention to how they think people would treat them if they dressed how they really wanted to.

4. I am terrible at making decisions. Especially difficult decisions. And I have to make one fairly soon. I'm looking forward to when that's done, because I'm really not enjoying the internal conflict.

5. There is no great conspiracy, at least as far as girls are concerned. I just have a strange tendency to go after girls that don't like me and not noticce the ones that do, and instead of blaming that on my own shortsightedness, I've always kind of subscribed to the nice guys finish last theory (at least after I stopped being a fat kid and being able to blame my misfortune on that).

Ultimately, it took all year to learn it, but I've finally figured out the one piece of self-sufficiency that I've never gotten before. And now I've truly found happiness in myself. I'm satisfied with how everything is going. I have a basic grasp over everything that is important in my life. And that, I'm sure, will lead to a prosperous and glorious new year.

Adieu, 2006. Adieu.

I've been doing a lot of silent contemplation today, as sort of a background process to my outward actions.

Doug, my best friend and clone, told me once that the reason I rarely get what I want, romantically speaking, is that I don't fight for it. At the first hint of a struggle, I turn and run with my tail between my legs. And no number of strategies, and no use of the Method, will fix this issue. That's why girls always choose other guys over me. The issue has never been (or rather, has not been since I stopped being a fatass) my looks or my personality, or anything directly about me. It's always been my complete inability to follow through.

Upon thinking about it, I realized that pretty much every relationship I've ever had has been initiated by the girl. Elizabeth, way back in the seventh grade, came onto me. Dear God, that chick was nuts. And Heather, freshman year...yeah, I asked her out, but she turned me down, and I didn't fight back. We started going out a while later when she kissed me. Marcia confessed to liking me before I even hinted at liking her. Same with Karin. Same with Julia. Denise kissed me before I attempted to make any sort of real effort.

It's odd. I'm a fairly confident guy most of the time. I can talk my way out of so much shit it's crazy. But when I try to initiate any sort of romantic situation, things go terribly wrong. Pretty much, things only work if the girl comes up and explicitly expresses her intentions. That's bad. I mean, don't get me wrong...I love it--LOVE it--when a girl is able to just come up and tell me how she feels or kiss me or whatever she has to do to initiate it. Confidence in a girl is good. But I want to at least have the ability to initiate it myself. Even if that's not what happens, I want to know that I can do it.

I have a few, like, kid-crushes here, and I haven't even hinted at them for the most part, just because I'm so afraid of failure and rejection. I wasn't like that until the whole situation with my so-called friends leaving messages on my voicemail calling me a nigger in February. Like, that situation broke me in some ways. I find it so hard to trust people or get close to people anymore, and I feel like people are judging me all the time. Especially girls. And as much confidence as I have in myself, I'll catch myself doubting that when I see the way some people look at me when I walk by, even though I know I'm probably reading too deeply into it.

It sucks. As far as I know, not a single girl here is even remotely interested in me. And that could just be me reading way too deep into things, but it really feels shitty sometimes. I really feel alone sometimes. Most of the time, everything is great. I have great friends and great people living on my hall, and they all make me feel like my life is worth a damn. I have music, I have film, I have writing...I have all these outlets for everything and so nothing is out of control. Most of my life is at its peak. It's just this one thing...honestly, the one thing I've been striving for most in my life so far. Everything else has always fallen into place somehow, but never romance.

I often feel like I'm destined to be eternally alone, romantically speaking.

It's been well over a year since my last relationship, and I haven't had so much as a fledgling chance with anyone in that span. And it hurts. Only at times like this, when it's late and I'm essentially alone (my roommate fell asleep early tonight for some reason). I realize how temporary life is and how unnaturally short my life will be (I've always had the feeling I'd die at twenty-seven) and how likely it feels that I'll die alone.

A lot of people don't take me seriously in this respect because they think I really just want to lose my virginity. I couldn't give two shits about that, to be perfectly honest. I mean, don't get me wrong, sex is on my mind a lot, just like any other teenager. But that's not priority number one. Not even close.

I just want a girl who will make me smile, and who I will make smile. Someone to spend time with, watch movies with, cuddle with, lay under the stars with...yeah, have sex with, whether right away or after a while. I want someone with whom to sit on the bench swing by the pond on the commons and drink hot chocolate. I want that romance bullshit they tell us we'll eventually have as kids, but that I feel like I'll never have.

Is that really too much to ask?

You know, I used to want to keep my virginity until I was in love. Around the time I broke edge, I gave that idea up. I found breaking edge boring and pointless, but I forgot all about the reasons behind my celibacy. I didn't want to just throw away the most private part of myself. It wasn't about religion; on the contrary...after reading the issue of American Virgin in which the protagonist has a vision of his ex-girlfriend, who reminds him of I Corinthians 7:25, my hope for sex became a quest. "Now concerning virgins," says the aforementioned verse, "I have no commandment from the Lord."

So why am I giving up this ridiculous quest to lose my virginity ASAP? Because I don't want it to be just another thing. I want it to either mean something or be special, or at least fucking right. It could be today, it could be next week, it could be two years from now. I'll know it when I see it. But I don't want to just throw it away anymore.

It's hard. It's hard to do that in this country, where it's basically expected. But I'm gonna try.

Taken from Livejournal...let me preface this entry by saying that I'm not being generally pessimistic. College life has been amazing so far, save for getting played a couple times already and having those situations being regarded as "player got played" situations. It's just, like, this party...it's been hellish.

Fucking people, man.

Took the first Greyhound home today, all excited to hit up Cameron's party. When Brendon left for Stu's party, I knew, just fucking knew deep down in my soul that I should've gone with him. I did. I knew I should've gone. But I didn't. And five minutes later, I was getting punched in the face and kicked in the back of the head and spine by David Mathes because his girlfriend got mad about a story I mentioned in passing from seventh grade. You know, five years ago? So, I'm in a lot of pain right now, because I just got fucking ambushed. My back hurts, my hand hurts, my brand new jeans are ripped to hell...I really wish I'd have just gotten the fuck out of here.

Then, after that, Cameron and Katie. Like, what the fuck? I'm washing my hands of that girl and all the shit associated with...well, any girl here at home. Seriously. Fuck Raleigh and Raleigh girls. Or rather, fuck girls my own age or younger. I'm really sick of dealing with this shit. I've been played thrice by three different girls in less than two weeks. I fucking hate being a nice guy. Fuck being nice. Fuck it. I fucking hate it. I fucking hate being in this situation, and I always am. I need to become what I once was, briefly. The beauty of that may have been ephemeral, but I need to convert it into longevity, even permenance. I need to be the kind of guy who could sell snake oil to a snake oil merchant. I need to be Van Wilder. I need to be Nick Naylor. I need to be amazing again. I'm sick of being vulnerable and I'm sick of being played. Fuck it. Fuck it, man. I need to solve this shit. I need to fucking change this shit.

Fuck it.

And then, some people Cameron didn't even know rolled up and stole these chicks' purses. Like, who fucking does that? That's some bullshit. I don't see how this party could get any fucking worse, but I'm sure it will. EDIT: And within a minute of posting this, the five-oh arrives. Amazing fucking timing, isn't it? I'm gonna be searched if they look for anything. I'm the only black guy here. Coincidentally, I'm the only completely sober person here. What the fuck is wrong with the world tonight? It's like God went golfing.

This is why I left. This is why I don't want to come back. Fuck this godforsaken place.

 

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How many relationships have you been in?-
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What are you looking for in a relationship?-
What are you looking for in a girl in general?-
What is the first thing you notice in a girl?-
What do you find attractive in a girl when it comes to looks?-
What do you find attractive in a girl when it comes to personality?-

What are your hobbies?-
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What type of music do you usually listen to?-
What are five of your favorite bands?-
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Do you read alot of books?-
Do YoU tYpE lYkE dIs?-
How self-confident are you?-
Are you addicted to MySpace? (be honest!)-

Would sex be important in this relationship?-
If I was depressed/feeling lonely/crying/down what would you do?-
Would you take initiative in the relationship? (example - Would you take my hand and hold it before I took yours, would you kiss me before I kissed you, etc)-
Would you break my heart?-
Would you cheat on me?-
Would you care about me as much as I would care about you?-
If we had any problems, how hard would you try to work them out?-
Do you get jealous easy?-
Would it be a problem if I hung out with friends who are girls?-
Would you prefer to be alone or in a group of friends?-
What would you do if you caught me smoking?-
What would you do if you caught me drinking?-
What would you do if you caught me doing drugs.-

Do you throw around the word "love" often?-

Hug or kiss?-
Making out or quick pecks?-
Take it slow or rush into things?-
Dinner and a movie or go to a show?-
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Love or lust?-

Eyes glazed like a cop's after a fake drug raid on a donut shop, soulless gaze into the mirror. I don't understand how I get this way or how I got this way this time. Parallels repeating and repeating, never crossing, never benefitting me. Every situation is just like the last, but just like the last, there's no fucking solution

The night sky is vast, and the stars twinkling in her eyes are perfect. The splashing dogs, the fountain lights, the hours of conversation, all too good to be true. The lights of trucks passing underneath the overpass, safety in danger, and all that stuff that feels like a sonnet penned by Shakespeare in his final moments, too good to be possessed by a fucker like me.

Romanticism gets you nowhere. It's a look that flatters no one. Honesty, compassion, and caring all traits that act as accessories that never match. The lime green shoes you got for Christmas in the mid-nineties that you never wore. I wear mine every day, but the laughter of the people that surround me is getting to be overwhelming. And she, she looks the other way. Completely there at one moment, completely gone the next. Do I matter at all?

Did I ever matter?

So what is the meaning of life?

Do your lives have any meaning, you squanderers of all that is given to you? Is there any reason I should trust or value anything that squirms its way out of the lips of a human being? Seven screaming silent days scathing my saline soul. You believe you're beautiful, I believe you can't be trusted to breathe. You can't spell believe without a lie directly in the middle.

And in the middle of this swirling torrent of fog and lies, there's one spot of brightness, and it's burning a hole in the center of my chest.

She. She is ice cream on a summer day, the end of the school year, headlining CBGB. She is something I've never come close to experiencing in my life. Perfect lucidity, purity of mind, the definition of beauty. I don't understand what I feel when I speak to her and yet I understand it perfectly. But how can you possibly gain from something that isn't yours to lose?

What doesn't kill you does not make you stronger.

Suffering and stagnating in the cesspool of soap-opera drama and soap-box sexual encounters surrounding me. Respect is a word I no longer have any use for. Trust is a word I no longer have any use for. Love is a word I no longer have any use for. Passion is a word I no longer have any use for. Pain is a word I no longer have any use for.

Except for her.

My brain buzzes and my heart ceases movement, rattling the steel cage behind the skin on my chest. I can't find the words, but the words flow freely from somewhere unknown, to my no-longer-functioning heart, to my overclocked brain, to my wind-up lips, to her ears and to your ears and to the ears of anyone who cares to hear.

I cease to feel like a revolutionary, and begin to feel like a revolutionary fuck-up.

The termites around me chew at the foundation of the essence of my being, and my one piece of stability isn't even mine. Violent pacification, dishonest true love, climbing the chutes, playing the field...what vessel is worthy of receiving the contents of this golden bottle with the faded label trust?

She is.

Ever feel like there's only one person that matters all of a sudden?

Ever feel like life is someone else's dream, a figment of someone else's imagination...some kind of weird fake sensation...and then been snapped back down to reality and bound to it painfully?

When I finally revert to the point I've longed to reach, I remember why I stopped letting my heart guide me.

Is it worth it? Is the pain worth the possibility? We'll just have to wait and see. I know that, at least until I return from New York, I'll be spending time on the borderline.

Life is strange, and you never know how anything will work out. One second you feel completely invincible and on top of the fucking world, and the next, you're back where you started. One second, you're a DSB member at a JSA convention, and the next, you're a heartbroken kid again. One second, you're Superman, and the next, you're Clark Kent with a Kryptonite class ring adorning his right hand.

Revolutionaries can't stagnate, but it's hard not to dwell on the strongest strength you've ever lost without ever having gained it. The feeling that surrounds you on a first date that you hope will go on forever in spite of common sense and all five others; the feeling in a pit, in an arcade with a free DDR machine, the beach in lukewarm spring, the roof in early winter, the eyes of someone whose company you supremely enjoy.

How can one write about a feeling so ephemeral, so new and so newly-killed, so...lingering...without destroying the sanctity and brevity of the feeling? How can one discuss the feeling without ruining the already-ruined moment of perfect imperfection and beautiful nothingness? The comfortable silence, the puzzle-piece embrace?

Very carefully.

I don't understand myself, and neither should you.

I am on a quest.

"What," you might ask, "is this quest?" Well, I'm trying to make this the best summer of my life. Like, I want it to be so good that any future summers won't be able to compete no matter what I do. I've already accomplished so many things I've wanted to do. This summer is well on its way to achieving my goal.

I have three big goals for this summer.

1. Play Vomit Fest. This one has already been accomplished. The Trepanators played Vomit Fest on Saturday and we were pretty well-received, at least among the limited crowd present at the time (we played second). I love being on stage and I hope I get to play a few more shows before heading off to school. The band will still be together, we just won't be able to play as much.

2. Cure my spring fever and the issue that makes it worse. Anyone who knows me even sort of well knows what I'm talking about. What used to be something I was proud of is now a burden and an annoyance, and it has to go by the time I get to college. I hope being in a band makes it easier, but I seriously have to return to the mentality of the glory days if I want to achieve this one.

3. Return to neutral. Part of the reason number two is so hard is because I'm such a fucking angry kid sometimes, and it's over old shit. I've been holding grudges, and I need to take care of that. I've been wronged by certain people in certain (large) ways, but I need to move on by the time I head off to college or I'm gonna be fucking miserable out there. I'm hoping college life is like TiP, and it can only be that way if I head into it like I went into TiP.

I'm on my way to accomplishing the third goal, and like I said before, I already knocked the first out. The second is probably going to be the most difficult. Ever since my anger exceeded the point where it helps my judgment, I've had trouble, so I need to achieve the third goal to be able to get the second. Don't get me wrong. I'm not an actively angry person. I don't act on my anger, at least not in any sort of violent way. I just get consumed with it and have a hard time looking at the world like I should and talking to people like I used to.

I'm probably gonna go get some tea and meditate or something. That's been helping some. It's been a slow process, but enlightenment doesn't come overnight.