What in hell's name is wrong with me?

I've been down this road before, and I know that it's probably just going to lead to something either very depressing or very frustrating (or most likely both).

I think I'll take my chances and go down there. It is a very scenic route after all.

Oh women, you make me feel worse than anything else in the world. But I keep coming back for more, don't I.

You know, I really don't know.

I like having conversations like that; where everything the other person says is said solely to make you think better of them so that maybe you can make some stupid decisions later on.

And stupid decisions I made, but she said it was a mistake. I'm sure I'd be alright if she wasn't so darned amazing.

*Sigh* Why do these amazing girls keep coming so close and then running away?

But I'm almost sure this one is my fault entirely once again.

Maybe it's because my personality is so shallow. I mean I'm sure it seems exciting for the first few hours or so of conversation, but once you get past that initial stuff I'm really just not that great. Maybe I should work on that.

Or get prettier/handsomer, I'm sure that'd help.

I better get to bed before I get all depressed like every other time I write in this stupid blog.

Does anyone even read this thing anymore?

You left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

I've realised that I'm nothing more than the 'mistake' to any girl I show any affection towards.

It's all I am and probably all I'll ever be.

Realisations.

A good friend told me last night that I am probably destined to be one of those people who spend their whole life alone, looking for a significant other. She also told me that if she wasn't such a good friend she'd think I was an overly emotional sleaze. It was very blunt, but I'm glad someone was honest with me.

It bummed me out a fair bit since I feel that this good friend has had nothing short of a huge impact on my life, even if I don't see her much anymore. But those words she spoke really did ring true.

In saying that however, I also feel that it's not my fault I desire some meaningful human contact in my life.

I also feel that the fact that I do get a bit frustrated or maybe a little emotional when I am denied that much is only logical. I'm not one to stand down when something doesn't go my way, which is probably why this good friend of mine told me I'd be alone my whole life.

I think I should stop posting in this, it's really just horribly written, self-pitying drivel that makes me feel much worse than I probably should.

But hey that's realisations for you; often depressing and rarely amazing.

You'll be damned to pining through the windowpanes you know?

Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick
Sweet as a song
The years have been short but the days were long.

I can't help but feel as if this is all my fault. I know that deep down I've gone wrong somewhere; I've done something I shouldn't have or said something the completely wrong way. I've let something amazing slip through my fingers and have no one to blame but myself. 

One day, I'll be good at this,  I'll be able to say and do all the right things. But until then I guess I should just get used to flying solo (WARNING, cynical lols ahead: "though it feels a little more like crash and burn solo, amiright?").

Well, that was a depressing blog entry. So here's pretty much my thoughts at the moment in short:

Fuck our human nature and that most primal desire which is to feel loved (and therefore continue our race).

Fuck the fact that I'm not good at this whole 'women' business.

Fuck the fact that the combination of these two make for one relatively unhappy individual.

And most of all, fuck the fact that I only gauge my self-esteem on other's views of me (writing it down will change nothing).

I guess I'll just raise my glass and keep it in eh?

This is the beginning of tonight's blog.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

That concludes tonight's blog.

I am the horribly cliche type of guy.

I can't help but feel as if my life lacks meaning, a certain sense of direction. I'd even go as far as to say that there's nothing I'm really even fervent about right now. Well, actually that's a lie; I guess there are some things I really do apply myself to with vigor.. passion even (it sounds horribly cliche, but I'm just that type of a guy).

But what use is applying passion if it only lands me in some dank pit of ambiguity and gloom?It's probably the small hope that maybe one day I'll climb out of that pit and be met with certainty and happiness. 

But until then I'm just sitting here trying as hard as I can to find my way out; and from my attempts, it seems that I'm not a very good climber.. not in the least.

One should also note that my life isn't all doom and gloom. Though I may not be where I ideally want to be at this very moment and while I am not quite content with staying there, I am still very much quite happy that I at least mean something (though what that something is I am very unsure of).