Strangers Forever

(Originally authored on February 8th 2025)

And yet again there is always a return to words. Richard siken was really right 

“The vocabulary of joy is grunts and moans and the vocabulary of loss is the dictionary”

Trust trust trust. In the end I think it may all be about trust. There is something ridiculous in the concept of trust in inherently truthless situations. Alanis morisstete would probably have something to say about it.

Trust in yourself, in others. In your lovers and enemies. In your friends and family. In your bosses and skills. In your news and in your politics. If we rounded up all that was said i'm not sure how high the percentage of truth could be. Id reckon not more than 80%. But a lot of things have been said. It's like thinking about the idea of only being 5% of peoples type. In the grand scheme of the population that's still millions. 20% of lies in the whole of human existence still stretches further than I can imagine. My life has probably been comprised of at least 50% truths. I often lie to myself. It's a futile engagement obviously-i know what i am doing. Denial is easier. You can get lost in the water or in the sand. Grains and drops. Miniscule measures. 

It's been a while since I've gotten this strange and withdrawn. The other day I was talking and reflecting on my first two years of college. I'd never taken the time to truly acknowledge just how hard I was trying and how much growth I have (hopefully) done since.

I was talking with Nick the other night and in response to whatever rambles he said “I bet you just think things all of the time that have no basis in reality” or something like that. I'm not sure I quite understand the idea of not putting weight into my wild spirals. Everything feels like truth. But my concept of truth bears many similarities with the idea of inevitability. I still refuse to believe that people can care for me or want the best for me. Moreover, I am still incredibly childish. I still bear marks and inclinations towards resentment and petulance and the satisfaction of passive aggressivity. Of bringing someone down to my level. My tendency towards ‘revenge’ of course is rooted in the slights I have created in my head. 

I just feel sad and insane as of late. and I feel very very afraid. As for the toxicity-i haven't figured how to get out of it once i'm in. I have created the problem we all knew was coming-i have ruined any safe haven I had from the complexities and interpersonal situations I get myself into. I want no one to see me. I want a day of obscurity. Of sleeping underneath the desks in the basement. After all this time i'm still always caught with my ear to the door. And always the only person getting hurt by it is me. The burden of answers and the shackles of why. How to live and move past that which i am not allowed and not supposed to have. How to grow up. How to grow up. Continually i am afraid of what i want. I play a game that doesn't exist like one passes through a laser field. Almost imaginary-wholly dangerous. 

Just be explicit. I'm allowed that. Hanging out with Nick and Jane makes me nauseous and afraid. And i hate it so much. It makes me feel like I try too hard and still don't do enough. I feel awkward and jealous and small. I just feel stupid. I don't know what to do about that. They are my everything. I just feel like such a paranoid freak. A paranoid freak about someone who is. Not. mine. It's fucking sick. I never truly try and stop it because I'll take any softness offered to me. Because i feel cold and alone. God i need to love myself more. Enough to be tough. I feel sick. None of the things that affect me the most are ever things that can be talked about. It is not the fault of anyone's actions. Jane and Nick are just doing whatever they are doing. Even if it is something else it's none of my fucking business. But why does it hurt so much? It hurts so much. I hurt so much. 

And the vaseline stained my clothes. Oil as something that leaves its mark with the feeling of a sort of absence. “The first poem I wrote that wasn't about you was still about you.”